Pretty dresses, dirty secrets

So, The Pretty Dress Company: THAT’S one hell of a well-named company, huh? Because they make… pretty dresses. And they’re called… The Pretty Dress Company. Don’t you just love a brand that does what it says on the tin? Here are some of the pretty dresses they make, and which make me lie awake at night, sobbing into my pillow because I can’t afford any of them…

Priscilla

This is Priscilla. She’s the prettiest of all the pretty dresses, but she has a woman’s name, which means that, unfortunately for you, my “pretending the pretty dresses are people” reflex has been triggered, and I feel the need to inform you that if Priscilla was a person, she’d be one of those tan, blonde, all-American girls: head cheerleader, most popular girl in school, been dating the captain of the football team (Karter. With a K.) forever. When they graduate high school, they’ll get married young and have a ton of cute little blonde babies, and live in a house with a white picket fence, which is always filled with the smell of cookies baking in the oven. Unfortunately, though, Priscilla never quite loses the baby weight, and Karter …. well, Karter turns out to be a bit of a player, to be honest. He just wanted a pretty blonde wife, you know? He didn’t sign up for the 2am feeds and a house full of LEGO pieces, so when Priscilla starts to let herself go a bit, he turns instead to…

Priscilla 2

Priscilla 2. She’s like Priscilla 1, only sexier. She’s also Priscilla 1’s non-identical twin sister (yeah, it IS a bit strange that their parents gave them the same name, but hey!), and when they were younger she used to sometimes trap Priscilla 1 in the basement, steal her clothes and go out to meet Karter, who thought she was her sister. To this day, he doesn’t know that he used to occasionally date his wife’s sister: not that he’d care, obviously, because like I say, dude’s a player.

Cara

This is Cara. Cara was such a pretty dress, and she really had a lot going for her, but her main problem was that she spent her whole life wishing she was more like Priscilla 2, so she never really developed her own identity. Shame. The real tragedy, of course, is that if Priscilla 2 had known she had a true friend and admirer in Cara, she maybe wouldn’t have locked her sister in the basement and stolen her boyfriend. Such pretty dresses, but such silly girls, seriously.

Fatale

This Fatale. SHE spent HER whole life desperately trying to live up to the fact that her parents gave her such a stupidly dramatic name, which made her feel like she had to live up to the whole “femme fatale” image, when really she was a bit of a home-lover, who liked nothing better than to curl up with a good book, and her pet cat. In later life, Fatale wrote a memoir called ‘All American Girls’, in which she exposed the lies and backstabbing that had REALLY gone on between the group of frenemies, and also claimed that Priscillas 1 + 2 were actually the same person. When the rest of the group read it, they realised that not once had they ever seen the two girls together – and come to think of it, no one had seen Karter for a while, either. His body was discovered in the back of his truck, with a note pinned to his chest saying, “That’s what you get for messing with US, dirtbag.” It was on the news, and everything.

Scarlet

Finally, this is Scarlet. I’m going to let you into a secret, though – her name’s not REALLY Scarlet. It’s actually Maud. She just tells everyone she’s called Scarlet because she thinks it’s more glamourous, and that she’ll get to hang with the cool kids and stuff. It totally didn’t work, though – the Priscillas and Cara were all, “You can’t sit with us,” and one time Fatale left a note in Scarlet’s locker, saying that Karter-With-a-K, like, really liked her and wanted her to meet him under the bleachers after school, but the note was really just from Fatale, and Scarlet waited for three hours, then went home and ate an entire chocolate cake by herself. You don’t like Fatale QUITE so much now, huh?

Pretty dresses, dirty secrets – it’s always the way of it, isn’t it?