I’ve gone through separates, shoes and underwear, when I come to the evening-wear section. Most of the dresses are full-length and heavily corseted, in bright colours like periwinkle blue and raspberry. There are lots of big rosettes at the shoulder or waist, and beading, and laced-up bodices, and built-in ‘slimming’ undergarments. Just looking at them makes me feel exhausted, especially after my ‘Athletic Shaping All-in-One’ experience. Some clothes just aren’t worth the hassle of trying to get them on and off.

I’m about to get out my phone to text Danny when there’s a rustling sound, and a girl of about fifteen appears out of the dressing room to stand in front of the full-length mirror. She’s not the most together-looking girl. Her dark-red hair is in a fuzzy kind of bob, and her nails are bitten, and her eyebrows could do with a bit of a tweeze. But worst of all, she’s wearing a jade-green, strapless, swooshy gown which totally swamps her, complete with a rather revolting chiffon stole. She looks uncertainly at herself, and hitches the bodice over her bust, where it really doesn’t fit. Oh God, I can’t bear it. What is she doing here? This shop isn’t for teens.

‘Hi!’ I approach her hurriedly. ‘Wow! You look … um, lovely. That’s a very … formal dress.’

‘It’s for my end-of-year prom,’ mutters the girl.

‘Right. Fantastic!’ I let a pause fall before I add, ‘They have some pretty dresses in Urban Outfitters, you know. I mean, Dalawear is a brilliant choice, obviously, but for someone your age …’

‘I have to shop here.’ She shoots me a miserable look. ‘My mom had some coupons. She said I could only get a dress if it didn’t cost her anything.’

‘Oh, I see.’

‘The sales lady said green would set off my hair,’ she adds hopelessly. ‘She went to find me some shoes to match.’

‘The green is … lovely.’ I cross my fingers behind my back. ‘Very striking.’

‘It’s OK, you don’t have to lie. I know I look terrible.’ Her shoulders slump.

‘No!’ I say quickly. ‘You just … it’s a tiny bit full for you … perhaps a bit fussy …’ I tug at the layers of chiffon, wanting to trim them all off with a pair of scissors. I mean, when you’re fifteen, you don’t want to be dressed up like a Christmas cracker. You want to be in something simple and beautiful, like …

And then it hits me.

‘Wait here,’ I say, and hurry back to the underwear section. It takes me about twenty seconds to grab a selection of silk slips, lace slips, ‘shaping’ slips, and a ‘luxury satin slip with boned bodice’, all in black.

‘Where did you get those?’ The girl’s eyes light up as I arrive back in the evening-wear section.

‘They were in another section,’ I say vaguely. ‘Have a go! They’re all in Small. I’m Becky, by the way.’

‘Anita.’ She smiles, revealing train-track braces.

While she’s rustling around behind the curtain, I search for accessories, and find a black beaded sash plus a simple clutch bag in dark pink.