Isobel entered the shop and the first thing she did was wrinkle her nose. Honestly, femininity is fine, but there was such a thing as too much lace, or flowers, or pink. She felt like she was being assaulted by girliness. Even the name was eugh: Primpernelles? She pitied the woman who had to live with that name.

She headed straight towards the counter in the centre, deciding not to make an attempt at finding things in the aisles. To start, it would only prolong her visit, not to mention that she had no idea what any of these things did. Easier just to ask someone.

"Excuse me, do you have anything for removing wrinkles?" Isobel asked the lady at the counter. "For my mum, her birthday's coming up and she's been complaining," she clarified, though hopefully it was clear that it wasn't for her. If she was wrinkling at age eleven, something was probably seriously wrong.