A First ‘Date’ with Adriana

You show up to the basement beneath the Stonewall Law School at 5 pm, not really sure of what to expect. The long corridor is brightly lit with classrooms branching off either side. A gaggle of 1Ls, arguing loudly about contracts, burst out of a classroom and pass by you a moment later. Is this really the place where the fashion show meets?

“Behind you,” Adriana says, causing you to jump, “is the storage room where we keep our outfits. This long hallway is good for practicing catwalks, even if the law professors sometimes complain about the distraction.”

Adriana’s wearing a plain white gown that you mistake for a bedsheet at first, but then you notice the way that it closely hugs her body, the stiff lines reminding you of a marble sculpture. Combined with Adriana’s statuesque body and picture-perfect face, you could almost believe that this is Venus come alive.

“Is this one of your fashion show costumes?” you ask, trying your best to not look like a slack-jawed idiot.

“Obviously. But we call it an outfit, not a costume,” she says, making you feel like exactly that.

“And uh… how do you get it to look like that?” you ask.

To your surprise, this nets you a slim smile as she twirls around before you, the gown somehow keeping its rigid quality throughout.

“A bit of haute couture tailoring magic,” Adriana says, waving her hand through the air. “Follow me. I’ll take you to see all the outfits that we’ve got. Who knows, maybe you’ll find something that you like, and we can get you into the show. You’re not a bad looking guy. ”

“I’ve never done any modelling work before,” you say. Thinking about Jack and his success with the ladies though… perhaps this is something to pursue?

“Don’t worry, neither have most of our other models,” Adriana laughs.

The two of you end up in a back room, where assorted outfits hang from a long row of hangers, all the crazy kinds of stuff that you’d associate with a fashion show exhibition on display—massive headpieces, weird pastiches of metal and cotton, misshapen scarves, and more. Adriana picks out a relatively tame sparkling green dress and holds it up to her body.

“How does this look?” she asks, striking a seductive pose.

“It’s not a good fit for you,” you say. “You’re slimmer than that dress.”

“Good eye,” she says. The smile that breaks across her face makes you think that you’ve passed some kind of test. She takes a couple steps, running her hand across the row of outfits, and then cocks her head to the side, glancing back at you. “I think you deserve a reward for that.”

“What would that be?” you ask.

“Take your pick of anything on this rack,” she says, “and I’ll put on a show for you.”

Adriana +5