The World of David Walliams: 6 Book Collection. David Walliams

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      They sat on her bed together, slowly turning the pages. The first shoot was in colour, but featured dresses that were only black or white, or a combination of the two.

      “Wow, that dress is gorgeous,” said Dennis.

      “Chanel. It’s probably madly expensive, but it is beautiful.”

      “I love the sequins.”

      “And that slit up the side,” said Lisa. She traced her fingers longingly along the page.

      What seemed like forever and a moment went by, as they studied every page, discussing each detail of every dress. When they reached the end they felt like they’d been friends forever.

      Lisa pulled out another magazine to show him one of her favourite shoots, or “stories” as she called them. It was from an old British Vogue, and featured lots of models in wigs and metallic dresses. It looked like a scene from an old science-fiction film. Dennis loved the extravagance of these fantasies, so different form the grey cold reality of his own life.

      “You’d look stunning in that gold dress,” said Dennis, pointing to a girl with similar hair colouring to Lisa.

      “Anyone would. It’s an amazing dress. I could never afford any of these, but I like to look at these pictures and get ideas for my own designs. Do you want to see?”

      “Oh yeah!” replied Dennis excitedly.

      Lisa pulled a large scrapbook from her shelf. It was full of brilliant illustrations she had drawn of skirts and blouses and dresses and hats. Next to these Lisa had stuck lots of things onto the page: strips of glittering fabric, cut-out photographs of film costumes, even buttons.

      Dennis stopped Lisa turning the page at an especially gorgeous drawing she had done of an orange sequined dress.

      “That one is beautiful,” he said.

      “Thanks, Dennis! I’m really pleased with it. I’m making it right now.”

      “Really? Can I see?”

      “Of course.”

      She reached into her cupboard and pulled out the half-finished dress.

      “I got this material really cheap. It was just from down the market,” she said. “But I think it’s going to look really good. It’s a little bit 1970s, I think. Very glamorous.”

      She held up the dress by its hanger. Although it was still cut a little roughly around the edges, and had a few loose threads, it was covered in hundreds of little round sequins and twinkled effortlessly in the morning sunlight.

      “It’s amazing,” said Dennis.

      “It would look good on you!” said Lisa. She laughed and held the dress next to Dennis. He laughed too, and then looked down at it, allowing himself to imagine for a moment what he would look like wearing it, but then told himself to stop being silly.

      “It’s really beautiful,” he said. “It’s not fair though, is it? I mean boy’s clothes are so boring.”

      “Well, I think all those rules are boring. About what people can and can’t wear. Surely everyone should be able to wear whatever they like?”

      “Yes, I suppose they should,” said Dennis. He had never really been encouraged to think like this before. She was right. What was wrong with wearing the things you liked?

      “Why don’t you put it on?” Lisa asked with a cheeky smile.

      There was silence for a moment.

      “Maybe that’s a crazy idea,” Lisa said, backtracking as she sensed Dennis’s awkwardness. “But dresses can be beautiful, and dressing up is fun. I love putting on pretty dresses. I bet some boys would like it too. It’s no big deal.”

      Dennis’s heart was beating really fast–he wanted to say “yes”, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. This was all a bit much…

      “I’ve got to go,” he snapped.

      “Really?” asked Lisa, disappointed.

      “Yes, I’m sorry, Lisa.”

      “Well, will you come and visit me again? Today has been really fun. The next issue of Vogue is out next week. Why don’t you come over next Saturday?”

      “I don’t know…” said Dennis, as he rushed out of the house. “But thanks again for the Um Bongo.”