Bella was certain she was overdressed. She wasn't sure what the heck she'd been thinking. Correction, she hadn't been thinking. The dress had been a birthday present she hadn't had an excuse to wear yet, and she'd put it on without thinking. This is way too much, oh my God what am I doing.
'It's not too much!' Flora insisted. 'It's very old-school. Very black and white television. Like those fifties housewives who did everything dressed to the nines!'
The familiar had been attempting to be reassuring, but those words, more than anything, filled Bella with dread. She groaned and kicked off her shoes. Fifties housewife? Really? Why did everything she owned make her look like a fifties housewife or a school marm? Shush up, Bella told her familiar, as she bolted towards the door in her bare feet. You are not going to reveal yourself to him before I've told him I'm not vanilla. Flora said nothing. That worried Bella, but she opened the door all the same.