soirée for me

A dance! A gala! A soirée!

The delight of those words was enough to send Adieu into a frenzy of circles. After having looked up what a “Soirée” is, exactly, the young Minikin was nothing short of thrilled. A fancy get-together with all the Minikin of the manor, with food and drink and all sorts of fancy little objects for her to admire… the prospect of it sent her clockwork heart into overdrive, made her head spin. Think of all she can collect!

Ouch. A misstep, and she had tripped over her own paws, and she was left splayed out on the carpet floor of her hole.

The letter drifted down not soon after, and when her vertigo settled, she shot right back up to retrieve it. Brushing a careful paw over the perfumed canvas, she read over the exquisite handwriting once again, before her baby-blue eyes settled on the last couple of lines: a list of requirements for her attire.

Her whiskers twitched. Ah… She’s no good with fashion… 

It’s a bit embarrassing to admit, but ever since she’s been living on her own, all she’s had in terms of clothing was her cardigan. A modest purple one, her favorite color, snatched up from some shop and made thoroughly hers with wear. A button secured it at the neckline, but it could hardly be considered ‘fashion,’ especially for such an event. 

But, there was a theme! ‘Cosmic.’ She knew that without need of a dictionary. And Adieu was not entirely hopeless when it comes to aesthetics. In fact, she remembered with a renewed vigor, as she leapt to her feet, she had just what she needed in her room! Her trinkets were sure to give her ideas for what to wear!

There was a pattering of paws and the squeaking of hinges, as she forced open a small door, and then she was sidestepping bigfolk-buttons and skirting around curtain tassels, all kept carefully in her hideaway. There wasn’t really a rhyme or reason to her collection. Glittery fabric that itched, draped across her shoulders. Sequins which resembled stars, weighing heavy on her tail. There were bells which made cute noises when struck, which she tried to incorporate into her necklace. None of these were sentimental to her, really, she mused as she threw together her best attempt at a gown, but they were absolutely necessary for her to have. After all, they all sparked the same thought in her mind, the same itch which urged her paws to take, the moment she laid eyes on it: that she must have it, and it must be hers.

Adieu caught a glance of herself in a mirror-piece, and it gave her moment’s pause. She’d never seen the stars, personally. She’s been stuck in this manor since her birth, and so has her mother before her. But in her eyes, it seemed the entire cosmos was pinned up along her figure, her dress shimmering in indigo and violet, adorned with metal charms which sang in chorus as she moved. 

Yes, she decided with a new wave of pride, this is it. This is an outfit which is truly mine.