Cassandra, a fashion designer that discovers natural beauty

"I... Hate. Clothes."

A bit of a weird, but overall innocuous statement for the average person to give. But for Cassandra, she might as well have stated that she hates eating, or breathing. After all, clothing was... Her life. It always had been, and it felt like it always would be! But lately, she was beginning to feel trapped by that sentiment.

Almost forty years spent on this planet. The vast majority of which were dedicated to fashion. Keeping up with trends, then predicting them. In her teens, she was the most gorgeous girl in school! In her twenties, she'd dominated as a fashion influencer and worked her way through the biggest fashion companies in the world!

In her thirties, she'd reached the top. Mastered the fashion empire, then forged her own. Her days were spent dressing the biggest stars in the world. Morning to night, her life revolved around outfits, accessories, lingerie--

She was sick of it. All of it. That's the thought she came to, as she stared at her expansive wardrobe. Some of the finest garments money could buy, but looking at it, she felt... Bitter. Instead, she turned to face her mirror.

And it was here that she looked at herself. Really studied herself for the first time.

Wavy blonde hair that reached her shoulders. She took good care of it, given its silky sheen in the bedroom light.

Her overall figure was shapely. Not unhealthy, but not as thin as she'd been a decade ago. She hummed, running her hands along her skin. Every curve, every contour and freckle. And she sighed.

Her chest looked great. Full, soft, a bit pale. Dangling in a way that suited her age. Why did she have to hide it every day with some arbitrarily fashionable shirt? Why couldn't her breasts hang freely, rather than being confined in some fancy bra?

Her fingers touched her crotch. Grazing her bushy blonde pubic hair. One of the few "unfashionable" things she maintained. She thought it was cute! The way her soft pink lips peeked out under that scruffy fur.

Billions of women in the world. Most of which, you could assume, had vaginas. Why did Cassandra have to hide hers? Bury such a gorgeous, natural, feminine sight under fancy underwear and thick dresses.

These thoughts just keep coming as she admired herself... Until her phone buzzed. Her assistant, and longtime friend.

"Hey babe! We're walking the red carpet in forty! Got this season's big new look ready?"

Cass looked at her wardrobe. Then in her mirror. Every inch of her own body, speaking to her, in the same way that the newest fashion lines had year after year! After a moment, she reached for her phone.

"I think so... It's my boldest look yet."