Mandee

I had to go into a store that I have never considered shopping in before, shiny blue tiled and teenager filled, because the lines at Target were about thirty people long and I already had the sparkly high heels. I just needed the black dress. As has come with the custom stereotype of the little black dress, Mandee carried many of these; we picked up three and headed for the dressing room, which had to be unlocked by an executive. Two of the dresses were beautiful. It didn't really matter. I just needed one. I wasn't going to wear it any time I'd care what I looked like.