a dress to say yes to | devon

[DANIELLE LYNN YORK]

words: 358 tagged: devon notes: ugh. this is throw up. i am so sorry. it will get better. but the title came from a days long marathon of me watching say yes to the dress. dont judge me.

Danielle knew she was cutting it close on choosing her dress, last year she’d found her dress a month before the Tony’s and now, she’d spent most of the day practically raiding the shopping district for the right dress, just nothing seemed to pop out at her and just beg for her to pick it. A couple of designers had sent her dresses, but even they didn’t do anything for her. It wasn’t like she was being picky, hell if someone held up the right dress, she’d know it, Danny just wasn’t sure exactly what the dress looked like yet. Luckily, someone had suggested a designer that she hadn’t gone to yet, and inwardly Danny was hoping she wasn’t one of those designers that flipped because she didn’t have an appointment and was hoping to find an award winning dress two days before she needed it.

Scanning images on her phone of dresses that she’d already seen she tried to think of what exactly she might want. She was still a couple of blocks away from the studio, but at least traffic was actually moving today. When they got about a block away, Danny finally started looking out the window, glancing for where the studio was. Seeing the Devon O Designs on the front of one of the buildings, she released a breath she’d been holding in. She was practically Danny’s last hope, not that she’d admit it, but it truly felt that way.

Walking in, Danny’s eyes scanned slowly, waiting to find someone who might be able to help her find a dress. Finally seeing a woman, fingering a piece of fabric, she walked over. “Hello, I’m Danielle York, I’m looking for Devon O’Daire… I am looking for a dress and a friend told me, she is one of the best… I don’t have an appointment or anything- I wasn’t sure if I needed it but I’m in a bit of a time crunch..” Danielle tried to smile politely even though she was hoping she wouldn’t be laughed out of the place, it’d happened previously and she just hoped they might actually be able to help her.

THANKS TO LOUIS AT ATF!

[DEVON ELISE O'DAIR]

tagged , DANIELLE LYNN YORK words , eleven forty-five (1,145) clothes , click this link notes , freakish long thing. lots of rambling. sorry, i got excited xD hopefully it's not too rough to read credit , evkav of btn

It was actually Nicole, Devon’s assistant, who Danielle spotted. She was a tall woman in her early twenties, with a wispy frame and long hair that draped around her face like a curtain. Nicole’s job was to perform the small, mundane tasks Devon couldn’t afford to tend to when her schedule was packed. Currently the young woman was standing before a rack of clothes and thumbing through a large swatch book that was balanced in one arm. More material needed to be ordered for a new project, and Nicole needed to preview the selections before they made it to Devon’s desk. The goal was to make the boss’ job as productive and stress-free as possible, so it was important to narrow down the selections so Devon wouldn’t have to waste time or temper on styles that contrasted her tastes. The swatches ranged in a variety of fabrics from leather, satin, and lace to corduroy, denim and cotton. Oh and then there were the colors. Seaglass, canary, orchid, cobalt, chocolate truffle, merlot... It was no wonder Devon often opted out of dealing with the swatches. There were so many options your head could implode. Should she go with the velour in colonial blue or try chiffon in coral? Nicole furrowed her brows in thought. She liked the chiffon, but perhaps cranberry would be a more stunning color. Before the young woman could contemplate this further, an unfamiliar voice interrupted her thoughts. While her back was still turned, Nicole gave a small roll of her eyes and let them flutter shut. Why, why, why did she have to be bothered with this and right now? The assistant opened her eyes again and quickly replaced her look of irritation with that of a forced neutralness. Then, in a voice that sounded so plastic and coated that it could shatter, she said, “I’m sorry ma’am, but Ms. O’Dair is a very busy woman and she doesn’t have tim--” Her automated words came impatiently, with undertones of mockery, as she slowly turned to face the woman; but upon seeing who it was that she was talking to, the assistant fell into silence and she stared at the older blonde with wide eyes. Of all people it was Danielle York, the star of Smash and countless Broadway productions. She would know. While she’d never seen a Broadway musical in her life, Nicole was often the victim of Devon’s incessant ramblings about Wicked and Bombshell and how great of an actress Danielle York was. Really, it was enough to make her ears bleed. And now there she was standing right before her. And Nicole had the nerve to get snarky with the woman. She mentally cursed herself and quickly stamped a graceful smile onto her face. “Oh, Miss York. I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t realize it was you. If you will follow me, Ms. O’Dair is right this way.” Closing the massive swatch book and wrapping both arms around it, for it was too big to tuck under one arm, Nicole turned on her heel and briskly led Danielle down the corridor. They went through a door that opened into the suite where the offices were held. There was a reception center and some smaller desks that served as the interns’ work spaces. They passed a few plain looking doors that led to individual administrative offices, and headed straight towards the large double doors positioned in the back of the room. It was the perfect place to be if you wanted to see and hear everything that went on. This was one part Nicole hated about her job. She was on strict orders not to disturb Devon because the woman had a lot on her plate and needed as little interference as possible. Clients were to be encouraged to return at a later time, shipments were to be received with the proper procedures, interns were to keep doing their jobs, and Nicole was to oversee it all and make sure everything ran smoothly. All, of course, without any assistance from the head honcho. But Danielle York was a big deal, at least to Devon, and the young stylist was probably one of her biggest fans. Although disturbing her boss would surely earn her an earful of hot coal, Nicole was sure that Devon would bite her head off for turning away one of her idols. Either way, there was hell to be raised. The young woman sighed audibly, not caring if Danielle heard or not, and mentally prepared herself for whatever was coming her way. Devon seemed sweet enough on the outside, but anyone who knew her knew how bipolar she could be. Dealing with her crazy moods was no sweet task. Nicole cast a small, forced smile at Danielle. “Right this way,” she uttered, and pushed open the doors. Devon was hovered over a long desk with two important looking women and a man. She was the youngest of the group and easily looked as if she could be the assistant rather than the one running the corporation. They all seemed to be in deep discussion and didn’t even notice when Nicole slunk inside. The assistant approached the desk and lightly cleared her throat. “Um...Ms. Devon...” she started awkwardly. “You have--” Without looking up from her work Devon cut her off. “What, Nicole? I’m in the middle of something. I thought I said not to bother me.” Nicole swallowed and tried again. “Yes, I know. But ther--” Devon cut her off. “How hard is it to look through a swatch book and pick out a few fabrics? Do I have to do everything for you? For heaven’s sake, I’m running a business here, not a daycare.” Really she was nothing like her old Gossip Girl character, Blair Waldorf, but some cases were less convincing than others. She finally wrenched her attention away from the desk and glared up at Nicole, who quickly stepped aside to reveal Danielle. Devon’s eyes went as wide as saucers and her cheeks turned a rosy shade of pink. “O-- Oh my heavens. Danielle York,” she managed breathlessly. “Nicole, why didn’t you say something!?” The poor assistant looked helpless, but Devon turned to her associates. “Please, give us a moment. We’ll address this later.” As everyone left, Devon gestured to one of the chairs sitting in front of the desk. “Ms. York, please, have a seat,” she offered. When they were the only two left in the room, Devon swiftly moved around the desk to take her seat. “Ohmygosh, I-- I love your Broadways,” she gushed, at the risk of sounding like a complete dork. “I thought Gentleman Prefer Blondes was just clever. An-- and you were beautiful in Bombshell!” Devon paused and the pink tint in her cheeks brightened. “Please excuse me. I’m sorry you had to hear me yelling. That wasn’t very appropriate.” In no way was it professional to snap at an employee, let alone was it ladylike. And Danielle York, of all people, had been there to witness it. If only there were a rock she could crawl under.

[DANIELLE LYNN YORK]

words: 729 tagged: devon notes: not the best but i tried to keep up with your amazing post lol

Of course, her worst fears were realized as the woman began to speak. Danielle was already mentally preparing her apology, getting ready to walk back out the door, yet a shred of hope came as the woman turned, the younger woman’s eyes growing in size. It was a look Danielle had seen before, and in that moment she took in a deep breath, thankful that at least some people knew who she was. It took a small amount of will power not to let a shit eating grin cover her face as the woman apologized, everything about her changing so quickly all due to her presence. However, Danielle just smiled and, “Oh you are fine. I understand how busy things must be here.” Danielle almost wanted to ask if there were anything she needed help with carrying when she looked at the massive book but the woman seemed to have it handled fairly well, so instead she kept quiet and did as the woman said, following in her steps, she had to lengthen her stride a tiny bit to keep up with the woman but she did her best to keep up.

Danielle was hesitant to enter the room after the girl, seeing that the stylist was busy; Danielle opted to stand in the doorway until Devon gave her permission. Standing there, she watched the scene play out. However the sudden rise in volume surprised Danny, causing her to second guess the whole situation, she didn’t want to get anyone in trouble, perhaps if she got the chance, she could express to Ms. O’ Dair that it wasn’t the assistants fault, and no blame should settle on her. But much like with the assistant earlier, once the realization of her identity came about, the entire situation changed rather quickly, and once again Danielle was slightly thankful. It only meant she had more of a chance of getting her dress, and hopefully clearing the air for that poor assistant.

Entering slowly, Danielle smiled at the two people leaving the room giving a small, apologetic nod. Taking her seat, her face turned a bashful red as Devon started gushing over her. “Thank you so much, it means a lot to me to have someone of your caliber be a fan.” Devon apologized for the yelling and Danielle threw a small glance over her shoulder, at the door, before giving a sweet smile. “It is quite alright, I understand that things are busy in fashion, and it can be rather stressful. I just hope that sweet girl doesn’t get into any trouble over me. If anyone should be yelled at- trust me- it’s me. I should have come here a lot earlier or made an appointment.” Straightening in her seat, she licked her lips, brushing her hair out of her face, using her hand and a small hair flip.

“Actually Ms. O’Dair, Bombshell is partially why I am here.” She sighed inwardly, hoping that the woman was a big enough fan to be willing to help her. “The Tonys are coming up, and I am horrible when it comes to fashion, and I know I should of started looking for a dress sooner…” she let out a nervous laugh, “But I’ve been so busy promoting and finishing my performances, that I didn’t have time.” She took a small pause, “Which is why I’m here. I know the Tonys are just two days away- but I am desperate. I’m willing to wear something from two years ago if I have to. You are my last hope.” Biting the inside of her cheek, she tried not to show that she was so nervous she was practically having an anxiety attack, the nervousness making her quickly add in, “A friend of mine told me, you are a miracle worker and I’m nominated for a tony for best actress for my role as Marilyn, if you could help me, it would mean so much to me, plus you’d have a tony nominee –and hopefully winner- wearing one of your dresses.” There was a small hope that a gentle reminder of what exactly was in store if she could help her, she didn’t know Ms. O’Dair, but fashion was a game of getting people noticed in your clothing, so if a reminder would get her the dress, than she was willing to push and play the game.

THANKS TO LOUIS AT ATF!