Filed To Story: Returning to Her Not-So-Poor Family
They were probably the designers who used to come for measurements in previous years.
Disappointingly, Kenneth and Louisa had invited those designers again this year. What irked her was that not one of them headed towards her building—it was as if they had completely forgotten about her, the once-celebrated darling.
The thought of them fitting Mirabella for a dress, designing her New Year’s outfit, and pairing it with stunning jewelry. Serena felt a tumult of resentment rising within her.
She used to be the envy of all, outshining everyone with her grace.
This year, it seemed Mirabella would overshadow her.
With these thoughts, her discomfort only deepened!
She wondered if the designers would come to her after they were done to take her measurements.
She wanted to text her parents to ask, but feared they would find out she was spying on the main house and might even confiscate her telescope!
With that, she texted Martha again, voicing her concerns.
[Serena, aren’t you a VIP customer at several major brands? Why not reach out to them privately, check if they’ve got new releases, and just buy a few pieces? It’s as simple as that.] Martha suggested.
Kenneth and Louisa would either have designers tailor outfits at home or have the latest designs delivered for their first pick, with leftovers eventually going to the market.But Serena hesitated, not keen on parting with her own money. [Are you saying if my parents forget to have a New Year’s dress made for me, I should just dig into my own pockets and buy one?]
[What else can you do? You can’t let that girl steal the limelight during the holidays. You have to dress up carefully! Show her that you’re the one who’s been raised with all the advantages, that you’re more precious and have a stronger presence than her rough upbringing outside.]
Martha’s words stirred something within Serena, but she still wavered, [Won’t my parents think I’m not reflecting properly here, still trying to outshine Mirabella?]
What really bothered her was the idea of spending her own money. Why should Mirabella get custom-
fitted without spending a dime while she had to pay for her own dresses?
[Your parents care about appearances. They’ll be more displeased if you show up in last year’s clothes, thinking you can’t present yourself properly, and that you embarrass them. If they’re not commissioning something for you, what’s the harm in using a little pocket money to treat yourself to a couple of new pieces?]
Serena saw the sense in that.
Comforted by Martha’s logic, she thought, “Maybe if I buy my own clothes, my parents might even feel a bit guilty for neglecting me, for favoring Mirabella. If she has something and I don’t.]
With that in mind, Serena decided that if Kenneth and Louisa hadn’t arranged for the designers to come to her, she would reach out to the brand suppliers herself and buy the clothes with her own money.
No matter what, she couldn’t let Mirabella outdo her!She wanted everyone to know that she, the adopted daughter, was in no way inferior to their biological daughter!
In the spotlight, she would be the one to shine the brightest!
[Oh, by the way, Martha, did you see the news online? One moment people were bashing Mirabella, the next they were all supporting her. I created a few fake accounts and ended up being scolded by them.]
Serena mentioned, still feeling a bit wronged.
Martha quickly advised, [That old dame Kiki stepped in, so you better delete your comments right now.
You can’t afford to stir up trouble at this critical time. If your parents find out you were trash-talking their biological daughter with fake accounts, you might find yourself all alone on New Year. Don’t even dream of setting foot back in the main house.]
Serena felt uncomfortable, but she managed to say, [It’s deleted now.]
[Good, good. Be careful, especially with the holidays around the corner. You don’t want to give people a stick to beat you with.” Martha felt relieved upon hearing that Serena deleted her comments.
[You know, it’s fine to vent a little in private as long as your parents don’t find out, but once you put it out there, it’s like handing someone a knife. They get to decide when to stab you and how to twist it. It’s like a ticking time bomb. You never know when it’s going to blow up in your face.]
[I was careless.] admitted Serena, realizing that Martha had thought it through. Now she regretted the whole thing. She’d only dished out a few dozen insults at Mirabella, but Mirabella’s fans had fired back with nearly a thousand. She had wasted so much time and energy clashing with them, and it hadn’t done her any good at all.
Back at Reflections Villa, Edith greeted Mirabella with a loving smile.
“Ms. Bella, your timing couldn’t be more perfect. The designers just arrived, and here you are!”
Mirabella smiled back, “Where are they?”
“They’ve already headed inside.”
Kenneth, having seen his darling daughter return via the security cameras, rushed out to greet her.
Louisa also came running, taking Mirabella by the hand and leading her into the house. “Bella, did you see the news? Those people are just sour grapes. Don’t take it to heart.”
Kenneth quickly chimed in, “Exactly! They’re just jealous because you sing like an angel. They can’t match your talent, so they resort to spreading lies, claiming that your songs aren’t original.”Louisa continued, “Those songs are so clearly Bella’s style! You can tell just by listening! Bella, I heard your agent is already taking legal action against them. If that’s not enough, I can have someone teach them a lesson.”
“One won’t be enough. Those who slander my precious daughter and upset her don’t get away with just one lesson,” Kenneth said angrily.
“Don’t worry about them,” Mirabella said with a casual smile. She never had time to bother with petty squabbles. If she got worked up over every little thing, she’d have been dead from stress by now.
Besides, her agent, Ms. Kiki, was already handling the situation, which had inadvertently boosted her popularity. Her old songs were once again taking the top spots across various apps.
In other words, it was making her a pretty penny.
“Fame comes with its fair share of trouble. If your brother David got dragged through the mud, I wouldn’t be this worked up, but you’re different, you’re my princess.”
Mirabella couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pity for David.
The designers in the living room stood up to greet them at that moment.
“Allow me to introduce my beloved daughter, Mirabella Collins, the apple of my eye.”
The designers’ eyes all turned to Mirabella.
“Ms. Collins is the perfect blend of Mr. and Mrs. Collins’ finest qualities. It’s our great fortune to meet you. I am Rory, a designer with BT Fashion, and I’m delighted to make your acquaintance,” Rory said to Mirabella respectfully.
“Hello, Rory, I’ve heard so much about you,” Mirabella nodded to him with a slight dip of her head.
She’d caught wind of Rory’s reputation.
The high-end brands that the public often saw, like LV and Dior, were considered luxury brands.
However, true top-tier luxury lied in haute couture, which was comparable to the Rolls-Royce within the realm of luxury items.
Typically, only royalty, top-tier tycoons, superstar celebrities, and the wives and daughters of political figures could afford such exclusivity.
Haute couture was the most special, the most professional, and thus, the most expensive.
Rory’s brand, BT, hailed from the esteemed Belloria, a name that resonated with international acclaim.
Year after year, it ranked in the top five at the world’s premier luxury goods research institutions.
Politicians, celebrities from across the globe adored BT.
The tailored suits BT crafted for them made them appear more tasteful, more unique, and they exuded an unmatched presence.
That’s why the brand was so beloved.
Mirabella herself was a fashion designer, so she understood that these brands’ custom pieces weren’t just available to anyone with deep pockets. The brands would assess the local prestige of a potential client’s family, extending invites only to those who met their criteria. Should a client accept, designers would personally take measurements and tailor clothes specifically for them. Clients were expected to spend anywhere from 1 million to 10 million annually to maintain their exclusive status.
So, looking around, there were at least seven or eight brand designers whose families likely spent up to ten million dollars a year on haute couture alone.”Hello, Mirabella, I’m Eudora, the lead designer at CR. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Eudora said as she reached out for a handshake, secretly marveling at Mirabella’s beauty.
Mirabella had an air different from the daughters of the financial elite; she possessed an unsullied and serene aura, as if the winter’s snowflakes melted in her eyes, captivating and exuding an irresistible purity.
“Hello,” Mirabella returned the handshake.
CR’s roots dug deep into Nova Haven’s history, spanning a century, specializing in women’s couture.
It’s beloved by the wives and daughters of many magnates, female members of various royal families, celebrities, and socialites. CR’s clothing stood for the pinnacle of fashion and taste, and wearing them was akin to donning masterpieces.
“Ms. Bella, I’m Donna, the creative director and lead designer at EV Jewelry. Please, just call me Donna.”
“You’re too modest. Your reputation precedes you, and I’m thrilled to meet you today,” Mirabella responded, shaking her hand.
One by one, the designers introduced their brands and roles, and Mirabella greeted each, exchanging contact information. Louisa then had her staff bring in the afternoon tea and pastries, encouraging them to discuss while enjoying the treats.
CR’s designer, Eudora, inquired earnestly about Mirabella’s everyday fashion preferences, her needs for the upcoming holidays, the styles she fancied, and the fabrics she preferred.
Another women’s couture brand, QZ, listened intently to Mirabella’s thoughts.Though lacking a storied history, QZ surpassed even luxury brands in haute couture popularity. From its meteoric rise, it had captivated high society, and by collaborating with premier couture brand, it had firmly grasped the hearts of the most elite consumers.
The other designers were busy consulting Kenneth and Louisa’s preferences, sketching outlines of garments on tablets, adding splashes of color, and seeking their satisfaction with the designs, asking what needed tweaking.
As the maid Sarah poured tea, she couldn’t help but marvel silently at the array of sketches laid out on the table. “They’re so beautiful.” she whispered to herself.
Once she set the teapot down and stepped back, she leaned in to whisper to Edith, “These designers are incredible, aren’t they? To come up with so many styles in such a short time, and each one is just stunning.”
It was beyond her sense of beauty. She knew that one couldn’t find such exquisite designs in any department store.
“Without powerful strength, how can they attract clients?” Edith whispered back. “The designers you see here, they don’t just serve any client. Money is not enough. They look at the family’s influence.
Take BT for example, Mr. Collins has to spend two million dollars a year just to keep this slot.”
Sarah gasped, nearly jumping out of her skin. Two million dollars? And with seven or eight brands represented here, the household must be spending tens of millions annually on haute couture alone.
It was lavish and shocking.
“These dresses are so expensive. I can’t even imagine owning one. Edith, tell me, do people really spend that much money on clothes?” Sarah asked, her disbelief evident.