"Ghania, I was just wanting to ask you, your skirt is from Seven, right?" a female classmate, surrounded by Ghania Quinlan, asked with a face full of envy.
Ghania Quinlan bashfully lowered her eyelids as if shy, and said softly, "Yeah, do you think it’s weird to wear it like this?"
"How could it be weird? You look super good in that skirt. I think you’re the only one in No. 1 Middle School who can pull off Seven’s stuff."
This person was obviously a fan of the Seven brand, knowledgeable about the Brand like the back of their hand.
"Their designs are very insightful, especially the works of their chief designer, ’S.’ Ordinary people simply can’t handle them."
"I’m super into S’s designs. I’m planning to study design in college, and I really hope to et him soday. So far, no one knows if ’S’ is male or female, fat or thin, but I think ’he’ must be a man because you can tell from the designs. ’His’ designs are sleek and grand without any superfluous elents, the use of color is bold and daring, anyway, it’s just not the style of a female designer."
Her designs are manly?
Nathalie Quinlan raised an eyebrow.
The reason she always kept her design drafts simple was because she didn’t like things too complicated, including complicated designs.
What does liking minimalism have to do with gender?
Can’t a woman design simple things?
The few people with Ghania hadn’t noticed her yet, and upon hearing this, a girl standing by Ghania’s side eagerly said,
"Isn’t Ghania’s family really close with Pinecone Group, the parent company of Seven? You should ask her if she’s t ’S’."
With that, several girls turned their gaze towards Ghania, with that Seven Brand enthusiast looking at her most fervently.
"Ghania, have you t ’S’ in person?"
Ghania’s expression stiffened, her lashes drooping as she spoke without confidence, "t, I’ve t ’him’ I guess."
In fact, she had never t that legendary designer from the Seven Group. It wasn’t for lack of trying; she had asked her dad to introduce her and had wanted to invite that designer for a al, but her request was coldly refused.
That person wouldn’t even add her on WhatsApp.
But a little boast wouldn’t hurt, right? After all, these people weren’t likely to visit Pinecone Group, let alone see the genius designer whom even she couldn’t et.
Ghania breathed a sigh of relief and suddenly felt more confident.
"You’ve t him? Is ’S’ a man or a woman? How old? I’ve always thought ’he’ is quite young based on ’his’ designs, they lack the rigidness typical of the old guard of famous designers..."
Ghania smiled slyly, with a pretentious self-assurance, "Sorry, I can’t disclose that."
"Ah, you can’t even say if ’S’ is male or female?"
Ghania looked apologetic as she softly told her, "’He’ himself doesn’t want it to be disclosed, so I can’t really say."
Nathalie observed quietly as she put on airs, her dark eyes as if watching a clown. As she passed the group, she spoke in a slightly hoarse yet nacing voice, "Female."
It had been half a month since Ghania had seen her sister. Seeing Nathalie again, not only had she beco more beautiful than before her injury, but she also seed more unrestrained.
The air of bold rebellion about her was even more attractive than before.
Clenching her palm, she replied with reluctance, "What do you an ’female’?"
Nathalie was already past them, but when Ghania still addressed her, she stopped nonchalantly and gave her a cold glance, "The ’S’ you’re talking about is female."
What did she an by that? She had just declined to reveal whether ’S’ was male or female, and now she was saying ’S’ is female.
User Comments
0 comments from readers