‘…And then she said this branch may have to close,’ Sandra continued.

‘I can’t say I’m surprised. It’s so often dead in here,’ Amy replied over that day’s Telegraph.

Amy was a sensible young girl of twenty, and was making her way through college with a job at fashion boutique Cameo.

‘It’s quite sad though. The other two shops are doing much better than this one. Unless things pick up here they’ll have to close it down and move us to another branch.’ Sandra shook her head and a few things jangled. She was a thirty eight year old woman who had a knack for choosing the right clothes to match her customers’ age. Unfortunately the knack wore out when it came to her own garish wardrobe, but her colleagues appreciated her individuality.

‘Well… at least we won’t be out of a job.’ Amy gave a little sigh.

‘She’d most like us to get rid of all that old stock… Oh, what luck! We have a window shopper!’ Sandra pointed in the direction of a snowman-shaped woman

who resembled a pair of soggy dumplings, peering at one of the window display mannequins.

The pair watched her for a few minutes as the woman shuffled from one side of the glass to the other before finally stepping in.

‘I have an idea,’ Amy said, swooping off of her stool at the counter and homing in on the customer. ‘How can I help you?’ she asked, slipping on an American accent. She was studying drama.

‘Well I was rather taken by that long blue skirt in the window,’ the woman replied

in a weak voice.

‘Skirts? We have lots of skirts!’ Amy declared, tipping her glasses slightly down her nose. She inhaled deeply. ‘And we have a lot in… your size.’ Grinning, Amy sashayed over to a stand caked in leopard print clothing. ‘Here we go!’ she declared, detaching a skirt from the rack.

‘It’s a bit… short,’ worried the customer.

‘But short is so blancmange!’

‘Blancmange?’ The woman’s face crumpled up. ‘What on Earth is that supposed to mean?’

‘You don’t know what Blancmange means?’ Amy feigned incredulity.

‘No. I haven’t a clue.’

Amy gasped. ‘Darling you are so desperately out of vogue. Blancmange is the new cool, which is now so old.’ She gasped again. ‘You do want to be in vogue again, don’t you?’