#Chapter 101: First Lady

Iris My hair is swept into an elegant updo, not a strand out of place. My makeup is flawless but subdued, emphasizing my cheekbones and brightening my eyes without looking too dramatic. The dress is a conservative knee-length sheath in navy blue, with a matching blazer that nips in at the waist. The stylist primps me one last time as we pull up to the venue. “Perfect. Very dignified.” Dignified. Not creative, not unique, not artistic. Just... dignified. Like I’m attending a funeral for my personality. “The shoes pinch,” I say, shifting uncomfortably in the nude pumps they’ve squeezed me into. I’m used to flats or boots, not these three-and-a-half-inch torture devices. “Beauty is pain,” the stylist replies with a shrug. “You’ll get used to them.” I’m not sure I want to get used to them. Or to the heavy pearl earrings weighing down my earlobes, or the insanely tight shapewear squeezing my ribs, or the false eyelashes. The studio is in a sleek hig