Shopping Trip

I'm pretty excited as I enter the department store with Dirk. Instead of taking the bus to downtown, he called a taxi. The ride alone cost more than the regular underwear sets I usually buy. So I decide to treat myself to a few more extravagant items. Hey! You don't pass up an opportunity like this, right?

I purposefully follow the signs to the lingerie department. I don't look back. I'm sure he's following me.

A little shyly, I examine the more interesting pieces made of silk and lots of lace, some of them almost transparent or so skimpy that I can hardly imagine what they are supposed to cover. The colors range from feminine dusky pink to champagne to classic black. But there are also bold, bright colors. Until now, I wouldn't have dared to wear anything like this. Far too conspicuous if such an item were to show through my outer clothing. I look at Dirk to see what he thinks.

He doesn't look happy. The corners of his mouth are slightly turned down and there is a deep crease between his eyes.

Hmm, maybe he already regrets promising to pay for everything. I glance at the price tag. Oops. Yes, it would definitely be unreasonable to spend so much money on so little fabric. I'd better stick with the simple panties and sports bras I'm used to.

“I'll look somewhere else,” I murmur as I push past Dirk.

“Yeah, it's all junk here.”

Really? He can't be serious.

He is serious. Dirk leads me out and into the main shopping street, where the glitzy facades of exquisite boutiques and expensive jewelers line up next to each other. I've strolled along here sometimes and dreamed of being a princess as I looked in the shop windows. Of course, I've never seen the inside of one of these luxury stores. Now my guide pushes me into one without further ado.

Seconds later, a blonde in a tight-fitting short dress tiptoes toward us in her high heels, with a smile that could melt glaciers.

“How can I help you?”

“We're looking for lingerie for the young lady.”

She looks me up and down. Presumably, my top and shorts don't meet her standards of decent clothing, but she is professional enough not to let it show.

“Of course. Please follow me.”

A beguiling array of panties, thongs, G-strings, bras, push-ups, and bustiers makes me lose track of time.

“Why don't you try something on?” Dirk suggests.

The changing room is not a cramped cubicle where you have to be careful not to bump your elbows or get your feet stuck to the floor, but spacious enough for the sales assistant to accompany me, hand me more items, and give me advice on fit and style. At first, it feels odd to undress and change in front of a stranger. But basically, it's like showering after sports, I tell myself. I begin to relax and enjoy dressing up in the chic clothes. Some of them make me blush at first, but my advisor's encouraging comments boost my self-confidence. I don't look so bad, I realize.

The more I try on, the harder it is to decide.

“A third opinion can be helpful.” The experienced saleswoman has spotted my predicament.

Should I really show myself to Dirk like this? I look doubtfully at my reflection in the large mirror. I turn this way and that to examine myself. Actually, you can’t see much more than when I’m lying on the beach in my bikini. Why not?

I stick my head through the heavy curtain. Dirk is sitting outside in a comfortable armchair, leafing through a fashion magazine.

“Can you help me choose?”

The corners of his mouth turn up and he winks at me. “Yes, of course.”

It takes a little effort to leave the protective cubicle. Then I straighten my back and step in front of him. If he's paying for it, he might as well see it, I tell myself. It will be the first and last time.