â€œMannequins scare meâ€ I heard someone say as they walked by. I stood still, listening, only my dress gently flowing in the breeze. I tried to follow the voice that said it to get an explanation to that odd statement but I could only catch a glimpse of the back of her brown mackintosh. If I could, I would listen in to the conversation through the streets of London, but I must wait.
I remained where I was, staring through the tall glass frame as soft sunshine began to peer through the clouds, blessing the deserted street with its presence at this early hour. I stood waiting as owners began opening their shops to the public. With a loud crash came a shriek from inside. I looked over to find that a shop assistant had dropped a pastel pink nail polish. The liquid had spread everywhere around her feet, threatening to lick the ends of her long white trousers. If I could, I would have helped her clean it up, but I must wait.
The street got busier as once again the yellow haired lady grabbed my attention. Day after day I see her visit every shop before she disappears down the street again and Iâ€™m sure that recently she even started to recognise me back. Sheâ€™d linger near me shyly only to continue to shop without making conversation. Today, she seemed somewhat different. Walking from the top of the street she unexpectedly ignored a number of shops, including what I thought was her favourite vintage boutique. Instead, she paced towards where I was standing and looked at me with determined eyes. I glanced back in wonder, knowing not how to respond. Never before did I have someone come up to me and say nothing… So, I open my mouth to speak, but just as I do she confidently strode past me and entered the shop. If I could, I would have followed her in to find out what she wanted, but I must wait.
In the chaos of everyday life, other people didnâ€™t even seem to notice this bizarre exchange. I continued to bide my time, wondering how much longer Iâ€™d have to wait but I snapped back to reality as a teenager stopped to shed her coat near me, revealing a cute checked dress. In a flash, sheâ€™d gone just as quickly as she appeared, but finally I felt someone behind me.
At last, I felt him hugging me. He picked me up and swung me round. As I looked about me, instead of seeing my princeâ€™s smile, I suddenly got a flash of yellow hair and noticed that the lady was back. My knees went weak as I panicked and fell to the floor. â€œOops, clumsy meâ€ he says and scoops me back up. â€œYes, thatâ€™s the black dress I want… the matching veil too,â€ she whispered, more to herself, while he sets me down in front of her. â€œI believe itâ€™s the last one. Give me a minute and Iâ€™ll be right with you,â€ my prince replied and took me into his strong arms once more.
He hummed a tune as he changed me into a white shirt and pink trousers, ideal for the fresh season ahead. He wrapped his arms around me and placed me on my favourite spot by the window. As always before he leaves, he instructed; â€œWait here princessâ€ and once again I stand watching the crowd through my shop window, waiting.
Story inspired by Daks Spring / Summer 2014 collection