Sarah folded the untidy basket of t-shirts and neatly stacked them in colour matched rows. Edith bustled past with her arms full of stuffed plastic bags.
“Need any help Gran?” she called.
“Oh, no love. Just some more donations. I’ll just sort these out and we can put them out I into the shop tomorrow.” Edith replied making her way to the storeroom.
Sarah pushed her large framed glasses back up her nose and smoothed a stray hair away from her face.
“Hey, do you work here?” a shrill voice queried.
Sarah looked up and found as she suspected from the tone, a couple of blonds with far too much disposable cash, little taste and an overabundance of cheap make up.
“We have a Party to go to and need some clothes from the 70’s. By the looks of all this old crap we have come to the right place.” Squeaked the other chewing some gum while she spoke.
“Humm tasteful” Sarah thought and gave a weak smile while she suggested some of the backless evening gowns she had in stock. As the women tried on their garments, Sarah absentmindedly handed them accessories to accentuate the period. Shrieks of delight mixed with disbelieving comments on how great one another looked met her ears.
She was used to this sort of clientele. Despite the little shop being run entirely by volunteers, its turn over and reputation granted it a tucked away space within the CBD. Sarah was studying fashion design and found a lot of her inspiration from the fabrics and designs which passed through her hands at the charity shop. She loved the feel of some of the home woven jackets, the slick synthetics of the 70s and the over the top power dressing from the 80s. Sarah enjoyed watching people enter the shop and choose a variety of garments, mixing and matching to gain their own styles.. Her designs were very eclectic and she wanted to launch her urban wear range with that street savvy feel of the “common” people.
“I am looking for a safari suit. I need it for Saturday for a 70s costume party for work.”
Sarah didn’t bother looking up from her folding. “ We have a rack of Safari suit jackets and matching shorts over by the window.”
A grunted reply was her thanks.
“ Great,” she thought to herself folding the shirts as quickly as she could. “ I am going to have the entire office coming in all day. Cheap skates – why don’t they go to the costume hire place instead?”
Sarah finished her pile of shirts and allowed her eyes to wander over to the window where a broad back was busy filing through the rack of khaki. Looking at his physique there was no way he would be able to carry off a safari suit. Come to think of it not many men looked particularly good in them in the first place.
Sarahs hand languidly reached over to a rack of jackets and she pulled a velour purple number from its depths. On her way over to the safari suits, she picked up a crisp white shirt with an extra large collar and some dark slightly flared pants.
“ I think you’ll find you might be better wearing this to your party. Its sure to create an impression and I can assure you of its vintage.” Sarah spoke confidently to the broad back in front of her.
His shirt, slightly damp, clung tantalizingly to his muscular back and as he turned to face Sarah she took a deep breath in. He was a fashion designers dream model with perfect proportions with that rugged untamed look so in vogue at the moment. However this was veering dangerously on the slightly scruffy side of rugged and he had little colour co-ordination sense.
She stood awkwardly in front of him, arm partially stretched out with her choices of garments glued to her hand. He was so perfect and so tragic. Sarah wished she could subtly get rid of all the other browsing customers and have half an hour dressing him.
He stared at the purple velour jacket. “Are you sure?”
“Honey, I’ve never been more sure.” Sarah boldly stated. “ Try the whole outfit on and let see.”
She blushed hotly as he closed the make shift curtains of the dressing room. Good looking guys like that didn’t usually come into the store. Sarah wished she put some make up on this morning or worn a different blouse. She smoothed her hair again and queried the fluttering curtains.
“Is everything alright in there?”
A dramatic fling attempting to open the curtains saw Chris’s hand engulfed in the volumous material and he trapped, tugging his arm away.
Sarah stifled a giggle. She’d done the same thing a week ago – but thankfully no-one had been around to witness this embarrassing sideshow. She leapt to his rescue and together they managed to untangle the curtains and push the rods back into place. She stepped back and viewed his outfit. “Wow, you look great. Like that famous British spy in that series.”
Chris shook his head, but grinned sheepishly.
“ You’ll need this belt to finish it” and unceremoniously wrapped it around his waist, threading it through the belt looks and attempted to buckle it up.
“No, what I need to finish my outfit is to have a beautiful assistant to act as my cover.” Chris looked deeply into Sarahs eyes. She flushed and looked away. “ Will you come with me to the office party on Saturday night, Sarah? Mr Jenkins from Fashionesque has been invited. If he had even an inkling of your talent, you’d be snapped up as soon as you’ve finished your course.”
“ Chris, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I am happy here and I don’t need your uncles help to get a job with Fashonesque.” Sarah flushed again, a little angry now.
Chris reached over and held her arm gently. “ Will you come with me; as a friend then?”
Sarah swallowed hard and looked up at him. After six months of tantalizing conversation, chance visits and unintended work assignments together, it was now or never to tell him how she felt. “ I don’t want to be your friend. I…. ummm” Sarah stared up at Chris, incapable of vocalizing her true emotions.
Chris replied with a strong passionate kiss. His arms snaked around her waist and pulled her in closely.
“I’ll take that as a yes”