She said, “This appointment has been on my calendar since I saw it on your schedule weeks ago. As though I would miss your fancy fashion appointment.”

She introduced herself to Dawn and we went back to talking dresses. She looked deeply skeptical, but had the tact not to question the pro about the options that had been chosen for me.

Dawn explained, “Everyone knows she’s a dominatrix, so instead of dressing her like one, we thought we’d do something unexpected and give her a more innocent look. We like the idea of making her safer, more comfortable for a mainstream audience now that we’ve played out the drama of Alex with a dominatrix. With her coloring, she can pull off any range of pinks.”

She sent me into the dressing room with the first gown, a spectacular one-shouldered confection with layers of champagne colored tule. It almost certainly cost more than my car, but it didn’t really work for me.

I came out and showed it off. Vague complimentary things were said, but we moved on to the next. And the next. And the next.

“I think we’re going about this wrong.” Ophelia stared at the elegant peach satin gown I’d just come out in. “With all due respect to both of you ladies, trying to pass her off as something else makes it seem like you’re ashamed of what she does. It feels like she’s trying to distance herself from that part of her identity instead of owning it and making it her brand. You need to double down.”

I let out a tense sigh. I’d been sitting there feeling guilty for being ungrateful. It was just a dress. But I didn’t want to tone myself down. I’d worked hard to be comfortable with the image I’d created for myself, to feel authentic in my own skin. Watering that down felt like a preview of what would be expected of me if Alex and I gave it a shot. It’s not like I wanted to carry a whip and wear a catsuit on the red carpet, but these dresses simply weren’t me.

Sometimes a dress was more than a dress.

“Always open to new ideas,” Dawn said, looking genuinely interested. “What do you have in mind?”

“Let me make a few calls,” Ophelia said mysteriously. She stepped outside without explaining further.

“Okay.” She finally came back looking excited. “They’re expecting us at Tantalus.”

“What’s Tantalus?” Dawn and Asha asked in sync.

“Oh, my sweet summer children.” Ophelia sighed. “It’s the home of the latex couture of your dreams. We’re going to dress her in a latex gown and she’s going to rock the shit out of it. It’ll be something sophisticated. Hell, it can even be pink if you want. But it’s going to be on brand for Lady Elena and no one else on the red carpet will be wearing anything like it.”

She was right of course. They wanted splashy, but classy. This was the better way to go about it. I could nod to what everyone would be talking about anyway while still pulling off an edgy red carpet worthy look.