I waited a long time to get bought, you know. I saw the plain black dresses go first, and then the red ones; after that the simple prints and the narrow stripes. Soon I was the oldest dress on the rack, and my tag was scratched and scribbled with markdown after markdown. I didn’t care. I was willing to wait for someone who could really wear me. And when I saw her, in her cranberry-red shoes and olive hat, I knew she was the one. And she knew she wanted me too! She didn’t even bother to try me on.