When the lift doors opened, five or six women tumbled out, all clutching carrier bags to their bosoms and all enthusiastically talking about ‘the most wonderful dress’. As they walked away, Perdita heard them laughing about how they’d have to make sure they didn’t all wear the fabulous dress at the same time, or to the same parties, otherwise that would be embarrassing.

As she took the lift up to the third floor, Perdita felt confused. Surely those women couldn’t all have bought the very same dress! That never happened, unless it was a group of bridesmaids whose outfits had to match – but from what she’d overheard, Perdita didn’t think that applied in this instance.

When Perdita arrived at the women’s clothes department, a shop assistant pounced on her. ‘How lucky that you’re here!’ she exclaimed. Perdita was a regular customer and everybody knew her. ‘We have the most amazing dress in stock,’ the assistant gushed. ‘It’s made from a new fabric I’ve never seen before – honestly, it’s like magic! Just touch it and you’ll see! I’ve never seen a dress sell so fast – but luckily for you, we have one left!’ When Perdita told her that she was looking for a present for her PA, the shop assistant said, ‘Oh, well, then – it’s her lucky day! This dress will change her life!’

A few seconds later, Perdita was examining the item of clothing in question. She was rather embarrassed to admit it, but she wasn’t impressed at all. She could sort of see why everyone else was so keen, because the dress was very different from any other that she’d seen or worn, but she thought it looked cheap and ugly. In fact, it struck her, in its design, as deliberately trying to make a mockery of fashion and of dresses – so much so that Perdita wondered if this was what the designer had intended.

‘Isn’t it spectacular?’ said the shop assistant. ‘Everyone adores it.’

Perdita wondered if perhaps Dolores might agree with everyone else rather than with her. She ignored her misgivings, bought the dress, and left the shop with it a few minutes later.

When Dolores unwrapped the present, her first thought was, ‘Oh, please, God, no – this thing is hideous. What is it? I mean, is it even a dress? Perdita says it is, but … ugh!’

Not wanting to be rude, however, Dolores smiled, said thank you, and hung the dress up at the back of her wardrobe, planning never to wear it.

The next morning, in their separate houses, Perdita and Dolores woke up and knew instantly that something was badly wrong. Their hands were raw and blistered, seeping and oozing. But the most terrifying thing was that on both women’s hands, the skin (where it was still intact) had turned the exact colour of the dress.