there。 What better way to find the dress that had been sampled in England but never sold in New
York？the perfect； coveted； one…of…a…kind graduation dress。 The only problem was that their
graduation dresses had to be all white； and most designers shy away from all…white dresses so as
not to invoke unsexy images of baby christenings and Little Bo Peep。
Not to mention wedding gowns。
？Too bad this one has a train；？ Kati Farkas mused； holding up a snowy； puffy…sleeved satin
number by Alexander McQueen that looked like the dress Sleeping Beauty had worn to bed when
she slept for a hundred years。
？Ew；？Isabel sniffed。 ？The train is definitely not the only thing wrong with it。？
The trunk show consisted of fifty…eight racks of dresses？including ball gowns； cocktail dresses；
wedding and brides…maid dresses； skirts； blouses； cardigans； and capri pants； two hat racks； and
even a rack full of tiaras； veils； and scarves。 The clothes were gorgeous and exquisitely made； but
the girls were not being gentle with them。 Clothes were strewn all over the claret…colored carpet；
and the usually glamorous； gilt…accented ballroom looked like the walk…in closet of a
fashion…crazed Upper East Side？dwelling Manhattan society hostess in a
pre…getting…dressed…for…a…benefit alcoholic frenzy。
The throng of graduation…dress…hunting girls fell silent for a moment as a tall blond girl with
enormous dark blue eyes pushed open the door to the ballroom and handed her white…and…green
leather Louis Vuitton Calla Lily stuff sack over to security。 Behind her stood a tanned boy with
wavy golden brown hair and glittering green eyes。
？I bet they？re late because they had to g