The next twenty minutes became a fashion consultation I never asked for, never wanted, and could not escape.
Vivienne moved through The Archive like a general commanding troops, her heels clicking against the floor as she pulled items from racks with single-minded focus. Harlow trailed behind her, occasionally offering suggestions that Vivienne either accepted with a curt nod or dismissed with a withering glance. I stood in the middle of the chaos, feeling very much like a mannequin someone had forgotten to remove from the display.
"The charcoal works better with his coloring." Vivienne held up a sweater, examined it under the light, then tossed it onto the growing pile. "But he'll need a proper coat for tomorrow. The black wool. Third rack."
"Ooh, the one with the—"
"Not that one. The one without embellishments. Simple lines."
"But the embellishments are so PRETTY—"
"They're also last year's trend. Simple. Classic. Timeless."
