The Eye of the Beholder

I've been in a bit of a slump lately, writing wise. I felt Nude Day was as good a thing to test myself with, seeing I find it a challenging concept. As always, the ambitious acrobats who helped so much with reading and editing this for me, deserve abundant admiration.

~*~*~*~*~

Davina

To be the black sheep of my family would have been something. Instead, I was the invisible sheep. Sheep, yes, because although I tried to escape and make my own way in the world, I was still dragged back home and returned like the dutiful daughter. This time, it was for my brother Daniel's wedding.

Daniel was the eldest. He was the smartest, the fittest, the funniest, and the better looking of the two of us. He followed Dad into real estate like the dutiful son and after spreading wild oats-- too numerous to count, I suspect-- he's marrying Debbie. Yep. They'll be Daniel and Debbie de Duchy. That's a lot of D. More than I've seen in a long, long time.

It's not that I hated Daniel, per se, but, well, I was never going to fall into real estate. I'd seen the deals

de Duchy de Luxe

have made around town, and I don't agree with most of them. My parents probably don't even know my opinion because it's never mattered. I was good enough to demand the presence of and tease at family events but not good enough to have an opinion or to amount to anything in their eyes.

The fact that I didn't become a hairdresser like my mother or follow in my brother's footsteps in the family firm means I've been forgotten, except when events like the wedding come around, and that's actually fine by me. I do okay. I'd got my own shop that caters to curvy women and am always trying to encourage new designers to think outside the box and realise that not only is not every woman a size six, but what looks great on a size six may not look great on a size twenty.

I left home as soon as I finished school and moved to the other side of the city, much to my father's chagrin. Why anyone would choose to live westside instead of the leafy east was beyond his comprehension.

Working in retail whilst I finished school, I'd picked up a lot about running a business. After I left home, I got a job in a chain store that catered to larger women. Seeing the mark-ups on the items and knowing that they were being manufactured in sweatshops in Asia didn't sit well with me, though.

I was at the gym when I was approached by someone who told me she was doing a design course and wanted to cater to curvy women. She asked for my input in a range she was designing for her degree, and we clicked. Sabine has been a great friend ever since and helped me launch Curvilicious, first as an online venture and then as with a retail front on the edge of the city.

Social media saw growth we never expected and introduced me to so many women who were looking for the same things as me--sustainable fashion for the curvy lady. Sabine tapped into an amazing group of designers, all of whom sell through our shop.

Mum and Dad know I work in retail, but they have no idea I run a business with Sabine, and we are doing really well.

"Davina, darling,"--I made the mistake of answering my mother's call during a lull in the shop-- "I was touching up Margie Smith's roots, and she has a new line of shapewear in, and I've told her you'll be needing some for the wedding."

Yep, not only was Daniel marrying Debbie, but I was Davina, daughter of David and Danielle. Fuck. My. Life.

"Thanks, Mum, but I'm all set."

"The bridesmaid's in a lovely mauve colour, even though it doesn't suit poor Christine." I thought purples suited most people, but what would I know? "I'm wearing turquoise. Debbie's mother is in royal blue. You aren't still thinking of wearing pink? I mean, navy would be more slimming, and you know you can't wear black to a wedding."

Walking towards the door, I rattled the bell. "Someone's just come in, Mum, but I'm all set. I'll see you for the rehearsal dinner on Friday."

I hung up, no doubt before my mother told me she'd ordered me fruit for dessert as there were too many calories in the pavlova they were serving. It had taken some years of therapy, but I recognised I was healthy. I worked out at the gym a few times per week, and my doctor always told me my cholesterol levels and blood pressure were great.

My body was never going to be confused for a stick insect. My last boyfriend used to tell me I had curves for miles, and he adored my large bust. He hated it when I told him I was going to get a reduction after I'd had kids. I should never have been surprised when I discovered he'd been cheating on me. He went on to marry a very slender blonde woman with extremely fake tits. Part of me thought this was ironic; another part was just sad.

Other women with large breasts know the struggle. Sabine and I have been fortunate to team up with Marnie, who is a lingerie designer, and she has changed so much for me. Being an F cup herself, she knew the struggle. I've never been able to wear a bra with a single hook that a guy could undo with one hand. It's always been at least three and wide straps across my shoulders. Heaven forbid ever needing a strapless bra.

The bell ringing for real brought me out of my thoughts.

"Speak of the devil!" I laughed as Marnie entered with bags of new stock.

"Speaking to yourself again, Dav. First sign of insanity!"

"Nah, I just had my mother on the phone."

"I still can't believe they never even asked if you would be bringing a date to your brother's wedding."

"I'm pretty sure they all think I'm still a virgin that no one in their right mind would want to touch. Must admit though, I've been feeling like a born-again virgin recently as the only action I get is from my battery-operated boyfriend."

Marnie's parents were great. They supported their daughter no end, and she had brunch with them every weekend, along with her wife, Mei.

"Is Sabs here yet? I can't wait to see this dress!" Sabine and Marnie had been in cahoots in designing something for me to wear to the wedding. I would have been just as happy grabbing something off one of our many racks, but they both insisted, and I knew they did it out of love.

"Nah, she's running late. Mum asked if I was still wearing the pink and suggested navy as it would be more slimming."

"Your mum's a fucking moron. But I think I'm preaching to the choir. Plus, it's more a cerise and verging on red."

"My mother would have no idea that there were different shades of pink! My main concern is the bra still."

"I've got it here! You can try it on with the dress when Sabs arrives."

I had faith in Marnie, but I was still concerned that Sabine had convinced me to go with a one-shoulder number. I'd never worn a strapless dress in my life and usually kept my arms and shoulders firmly covered. But I trusted my friends. I'd tried on a mock-up of the dress in some scrap fabric Sabs had lying around, but tonight was the final fitting. Well, it was actually the first fitting of the real thing.

"Sorry I'm late." Sabine rushed through the door with several garment bags hanging over her arms. "I ran out of thread and had to rush to grab some more in the same shade. Hey Marns, you brought the lingerie?"

Sabine turned the sign on the door to say we were closed and locked the door, all of us heading to the small back office.

"I was looking at the racks today, and if this doesn't work, then there's..."

"Shut up woman! Do you not trust your friends? Now strip!"

"What, here?" I was a little shocked, even though I should have been used to Sabine by now.

"No, out on Main Street! Of course, here! We're all women." Sabine hung the bags she was carrying on one of the railings in the office.

"I didn't tell you before, but the bra is front closing, so you don't need a gazillion hooks on the back." Marnie produced the most beautiful silk bra in the same cerise colour as the dress. There was a small amount of lace detail on the edge of the cups. "Sabs has also put some extra boning in the dress to give some shape, but not too much."

Lowering the zip on the dress I had worn to work that day, I tried to remind myself that these two women were my best of the best friends. They had my back and would never give me things to wear that they did not believe would suit me.

"Right, bra off." Marnie reached behind me to unclasp the standard bra I wore to work. "And I am also going to get you into some bras other than these. They're really not that stylish, you know?"

"Yeah, but they're expensive, and I take care of them, and it's not like anyone else is seeing them anyway."

Despite my olive complexion, my cheeks had turned a deep shade of red. I could not believe I was standing in front of my friends with my tits out, wearing only some full briefs. Marnie reached behind me and passed the cups of the bra to me. The back panelling felt soft against my skin, and I appreciated there would be no hooks digging in.

The clasp was easy enough to manage, and I had to admit that not only did the bra feel nice, but it looked okay too. I stood staring into the mirror in the corner of the room, wondering if I had ever worn a bra that wasn't beige, white, or black.

"Imagine that as a bikini top." Sabine offered as she unzipped one of the garment bags.

"I don't do bikinis!" I shuddered as I thought of all that skin on display.

"Old Davina wouldn't, but I think this Davina would." Marnie had her hands on my upper arms as she placed a kiss on my shoulder.

I could talk to my mother and try to not listen to the judgemental sentiments she constantly offered, but I still had trouble saying the same things to myself when I was the judgemental one. Baby steps, as my therapist would say.

Sabine produced the most gorgeous dress I had ever seen. Gathers of chiffon swept from one shoulder down to an empire waist that then flowed into an asymmetrical hem. As she helped me get into it, I felt like a princess for the first time in my life.

"It's gorgeous, Sabs. Thank you so much." I had tears in my eyes as I looked at myself in the mirror.

"You're gorgeous, Davina." Sabine enveloped me in one of her huge hugs. "Now you're wearing gold shoes and accessories still? How about your hair?"

Our conversation continued after I had changed back into my work dress, and we had adjourned to a nearby bar for a cheeky midweek drink. I was glad to have found my tribe and recognised that having girlfriends was lovely, but I still missed sex. I'm not sure what about it I missed either as Dickface, as we referred to my ex, had never been that good a lover. Perhaps I missed the feelings of being special to someone else, so special that their face lit up when I entered a room, and they texted me to let me know they were thinking of me.

Perhaps after the wedding, I could look into online dating again, not that it had ever gone anywhere before.

~*~*~*~*~

Scott

No matter how hard I tried, my past was always there to remind me where I'd come from. Scott Badenoch, the ungrateful son who had refused to follow his father into real estate.

"University?" I could still hear my mother screeching, "What do you need with university? No one in our family has ever needed a degree in anything before. Your father is ready to show you everything. All we've worked for will be yours."

I didn't want all that they had worked for. As much as I hated the all-boys school my parents had sent me to, I appreciated the careers advisor who suggested architecture to me when I told him of my love of buildings and art. I had hoped that it might fit in with the dreams of my parents, but I should never have hoped as much.

After uni, in an attempt to distance myself further from my parents, who still insisted I was going through a "phase," I travelled. I worked in London and Minneapolis before heading home and joining a firm in the city. I lived in an apartment in the city with Ivan, my ragdoll cat.

I'd always had a weird relationship with my parents, and understanding all they'd been through to have me, I could see why they were as they were, but I was not them, and I was never going to be them.

When I went to uni, I thought I had cut ties with most of my childhood friends and was surprised to take a call from my childhood best friend, Daniel de Duchy, soon after I returned to the city.

"Scotty! Long time, no speak! Your mum was telling mine you're back in town, and it's just the best timing. How've you been?" Daniel obviously hadn't changed and still loved the sound of his own voice. "Listen, the reason I'm calling, apart from wanting to see if we can partner on some developments I've got planned, is I'm getting hitched and need a best man. What do you say?"

What could I say? I should have said no way, but part of me felt sorry for Daniel. He'd done what I hadn't and been the dutiful son and followed his father into the family business. I suspected my father was going to sell his company to the de Duchy's when the time was right.

The thing that bothered me was I wasn't the same teenager who had followed Daniel at school. Sure, I'd chosen to smoke weed at his family holiday house on his eighteenth birthday, and I never said no to any of the women he found for me to sleep with, but I was no longer that douche. At least, I hoped not.

"Dan, look, I'm honoured--"

"Knew you would be! It's, well, it's hard to keep friends in this industry. No idea how our dads have done it all these years. We should do drinks sometime. You need to meet Debbie. She's fucking hot as sin, mate! And she loves it up the back door if you know what I mean!"

Daniel had not changed. Debbie seemed pleasant enough when I met her. She worked for Dan's family company, though I'm still not sure in what capacity. The sad thing was, he was still the idiot he had been in high school. He talked about himself most of the time and loved boasting about close scrapes he'd had with building inspectors and the like.

At least with my agreeing to be part of his wedding, mother had stopped hassling me. I'm sure she thought that Daniel or his father would be able to convince me to start over in the wonderful world of real estate. Not likely.

After a run around the gardens near my apartment, I set off for the winery on the peninsula where the wedding was being held. I had picked up Daniel's suit as instructed and started the drive to the venue. It was a small bridal party of just one attendant each, no doubt because Daniel couldn't find anyone else to stand up next to him.

The buck's night had been a quiet affair for me. Dan got drunk and I was able to convince him it was much later than it was and drag him back to his hotel room after visiting one strip club. I was in bed by midnight. It wasn't that any of the women at the club weren't gorgeous, but they did nothing for me. I'd been with so many so-called beautiful women, and I had decided that I had different ideas of what beauty was compared to others.

Dan loved the idea of strippers, but they did nothing for me. The power imbalance of clothed men and naked women never sat right in my mind. In Minneapolis I'd found a group of friends who were naturists, and we'd often camp up at the Lakes, wearing nothing but sunblock and insect repellent.

It was never sexual, despite me being introduced to the lifestyle by my girlfriend at the time. I'd yet to source out any similar groups near home now, but still preferred to be naked behind closed doors in my apartment, even if Ivan sometimes forgot about his claws.

"I'll have the quiche and salad and just a black coffee please." I had stopped at a small café on the edge of the city for lunch enroute to the winery they were holding the wedding at. It was a quaint place with plastic tablecloths and craft items for sale. The table I sat at wasn't designed for my six-and-a-half-foot frame, but it gave me a chance to look at the other patrons.

There was an older couple laughing as they shared a pot of tea. I liked to think they'd been married for fifty years or even that they were both experiencing a second chance after their spouses had died. At one stage, he simply placed his hand over hers as they sat and drank their tea. She leant over and brushed a crumb from his chin with a laugh. They seemed so happy together, simply enjoying tea and cake on a Friday.

At a table against the window, there was a woman who was engrossed in her phone. I figured she was messaging friends, perhaps a lover even, as she'd type away and then wait for a response before laughing and shaking her head. She had the most stunning dark hair that framed her face in waves. Dressed in jeans and a V-neck top that showed off a wonderful hint of cleavage, her effervescence at her conversation made me smile.

Our eyes locked just before the waitress brought my lunch, and when I looked up, she was gone. I won't lie. There was a hint of something about her that grabbed me and drew me in, and if it had been at a bar near home, I would have been at her table like that, offering to buy her a drink and get to know her better. But for all I knew, she was texting her partner and someone else got to enjoy her smiles on a regular basis.

It had been ages since I'd been with anyone. It's not like I never had the opportunity, and I knew that lots of women would jump at getting into bed with me, but I'd learnt early on that sex without a connection was just as fulfilling as my hand in the shower each evening. Perhaps after the wedding, I'd have to look into online dating again as the romantic in me believed there was someone out there who would brush crumbs from my face when I was in my seventies.

~*~*~*~*~

Davina

The drive to the winery was pleasant enough, but I felt my anxiety rising with each passing kilometre. Stopping at an old-fashioned little café on the edge of town for a quick bite, I carried on a humorous conversation with Marnie, who was sending photos of a bra she'd managed to attach the straps to upside down that morning.

Me:

I can't see what the heck you were doing, I mean, you must have known it was wrong before you sewed it?

Marnie:

Yeah, probably, but if I just cut that one there and attach a length of chain...

Me:

Bloody hell, you just want chains with everything!

Marnie:

Don't knock it 'til you tried it! So, did Daniel have any hunky friends growing up?

Me:

Just Scott. He was always following Daniel around and making questionable decisions. I think he's best man.

Marnie:

I can only imagine the calibre of man your brother would attract. Sleezy McSleezeballs, who wouldn't dream of going anywhere near their mate's younger sister!

Me:

Forget sleezy, Hunky McHunkballs has just arrived! He is fine with a capital F! I mean, oh, fuck, they just sat him at a small table, and he looks like he has to fold him half. He's well over six feet tall and has this auburn wavy hair that just sort of glides past his ears.

Marnie:

Go and say hello!

Marnie's suggestion was tempting, but as I was replying to her I made eye contact with the stranger, only to discover it was Scott. All the memories of my childhood years came rushing back and I told Marnie I had to rush. Of all the places to stop and grab a bit to eat, I had to choose this one.

Leaving cash to cover my soup and coffee, I slid out of the booth and made my way outside back to my car. Scott had always hung around with us as kids. As an only child, I think he relished the time with other young folk away from his parents. He was also a follower, and if Daniel asked him to jump, he would simply ask how high.

I've got no idea what became of him. I heard he went to uni, but the plan was for him to return and run their family real estate business. He wasn't dressed like that though, wearing dark jeans and a black Henley shirt. The dark-rimmed glasses that framed his eyes made him look like a professor or artist and not a real estate agent.