When she heard a knock at the front door of her Lower East Side apartment, Olivia ran in half-dressed from the bedroom and checked the peephole. She unlocked the door to let in her girlfriend, Amber, and hugged her hello.

Olivia said, “You've had a key for like a month now. When are you gonna start using it?”

“I will, I will. I'm just trying to respect your space.”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “How about respecting the couch’s space for two minutes while I finish getting ready?”

“You got it.” Amber made herself comfortable. She knew Olivia’s “two minutes” were likely to run long, but that’s what she got for dating a fashionista. A magazine on the coffee table caught her eye. "Is that the new Orion?"

“Yeah, it came today.”

About ten minutes later, Olivia leaned over the back of the couch and pointed at a page with a photo of a shed covered in lush purple ivy. “That’s a beautiful plant,” she said.

“A lot of people down south would disagree,” Amber told her. “It has a pretty name, Hedera violetta, but they call it 'the purple strangler.' Apparently, it’s really invasive and suffocates native plants.”

“Okay, I revise my opinion—it’s beautiful and evil,” Olivia said.

Amber closed the magazine and set it down. “Shall we head out?”

Olivia nodded. “Let me just turn down the AC.” She crossed to the window unit and set the power to low. “Effing climate change ... Super-storms and murder hornets and now evil plants. Why do I even try?”

Amber stood up and gave Olivia a quick hug. “Because you're a good person.”

Olivia sighed as she picked up her bag and her keys. “I mean it. The fashion industry is a mess in general, but now here’s this plant that’s so pretty, and we have too much of it. Why can’t we make it into clothes?” She opened the apartment door.

Amber followed her out, then asked, “Wouldn’t it take a lot of processing and chemicals to turn it into fabric?”

Olivia nodded. “Probably.” But as they waited for the elevator, she had an idea. “Unless—what if I could design a dress from the living plant?”

Amber raised an eyebrow. “That would be hard to do on a big scale, but knowing you, you’re thinking ... couture?”

As they descended, Olivia’s excitement level rose. “Oh my god, I could wear it to the sustainable style gala during Green Fashion Week. A living dress.”

“Do it,” Amber told her. “You're always saying you want a job that feels more meaningful, and that event could be a great place to network.”

Olivia shook her head, second-guessing herself. “I mean, I’ve never even touched the vine. It could be prickly or itchy or something.”

“Don’t talk yourself out of this,” Amber said as they stepped out on the ground floor. “At least look into it. You could fly down to New Orleans on Friday, stay overnight somewhere cheap, pick a few plants, and come back Sunday. Don’t you have a cousin down there? Maybe you could even stay with him. It’d be like a mini-vacay without missing any work.”

“I could probably swing the cost of a flight ...”

“Do it!” Amber said. “You know you want to.”

Olivia scrunched up her face, thinking hard. She loved her job on the design team at H&M, but she felt guilty on a daily basis for contributing to the throw-away culture and environmental impact of the fast-fashion industry. She said, “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it would show the right people how much this stuff matters to me.” She took Amber’s hand as they turned down Delancey toward the bar, her heart full of possibility.

*     *     *
In Louisiana, Olivia was reminded that there were places even more humid than New York City in the summer. Her cousin, Craig, drove her through one of the suburban neighborhoods where the Hedera violetta was out of control.

"The violetta was originally imported for decorative purposes, which of course turned out to be a really bad idea,” she explained to him. “It’s an air plant, so it can live anywhere from rocks to rooftops and propagate by pulling moisture from the air. The vines grow very fast and have holdfasts, these super-sticky pad things that make them hard to remove.”

“Nasty stuff, huh?” Craig said, his eyes scanning the foliage as he drove.

“It really is, and it’s also bad news for native plants. The leaves overlap, blocking the sun from reaching anything planted underneath. But they’re pretty, which is why I’m here.”

A few minutes later, Craig pulled over next to a deep purple plant. “There you go.”

Olivia got out of the car. The color was even more captivating in person, and she was thrilled to discover that the leaves were as soft as velvet. When she touched the stem, a tendril curled around her finger almost affectionately.

Olivia snipped off enough cuttings to fill three gallon-sized Ziploc bags. She carried them home on the plane, her mind spinning with possibilities.

When she returned to her apartment, it was sweltering, but she didn't turn on the air conditioner. Instead, she walked to Duane Reade and bought a humidifier, creating an indoor version of the Louisiana climate. She pulled a plastic storage bin from her closet, dumped out the winter sweaters, and shook the violetta from the Ziploc bags into the bin. She had questioned whether the cuttings would survive the plane trip, but in the hot and humid air, the purple sprigs responded immediately.

Then, she began sketching ideas. Did she want a flowing gown? No, that didn’t feel right. She’d play off the clinginess of the plant by designing a formfitting mini-dress. She envisioned a base layer of woven vines over which the leaves hung freely, giving the dress a peek-a-boo feel. She wanted it to suggest that if a breeze tossed the leaves just right, someone might catch a glimpse of natural flesh beneath this wild, living garment.

She had a dress form in her closet that she hadn’t used in a while. She pulled it out, adjusted it to her current measurements, and then covered it in a large plastic trash bag. The plastic would create a removable layer so that she would ultimately be able to transfer the garment off of the dress form and onto her own body.

Each day, the violetta grew. At first, Olivia used transparent tape to attach the cuttings to the dress form. The slender vines were surprisingly easy to work with, and as they got longer, she guided them along, intertwining the pieces to give the dress a somewhat solid, though still flexible, structure.

In the front, she twisted the vines back over themselves, leaving a set of loops around a deep V-shaped opening. She avoided trimming the plants, choosing instead to redirect the errant tendrils and give them something to grab. She worked at it daily, because each piece seemed to have a mind of its own. Meanwhile, the inner vines were thickening up.

A few weeks in, she joked to Amber, “I better not gain any weight before the gala, because these vines do not look like they’ll stretch.”

Meanwhile, the surface of the dress was filling out with the violetta's soft purple leaves. Every time she looked at it, Olivia was astonished that she had created it herself—without needles, thread, or fabric. Her sewing tools were air and water and life.

She didn’t tell any of her colleagues or fashion industry friends what she was working on. As the gala drew closer, Amber asked Olivia for help picking out something to wear. Olivia found her a forest green organza jumpsuit on Rent the Runway. Not only would Amber look hot in it, the color would accentuate the violetta’s natural beauty.

“I love it,” Amber told her as they placed the order. “And renting is better for the environment, right?” Amber worked at Greenbeam, a software company for green building designers. She and Olivia had been drawn together by their shared passion for sustainability; they met at a cocktail event where all the drinks were made from food scraps.

The afternoon leading up to the gala, Olivia held her breath as she tugged the trash bag beneath the dress upward to separate the living material from the dress form. The violetta clung to the bag even after it was off the form, but little by little, Olivia worked the dress loose. She put it on a hanger and hung it on the bathroom door.

Standing in front of the dress in nude underwear and pasties, she wondered, “Am I really going to wear a plant out in public?” But she had come too far to change her mind.

Olivia lifted the dress over her head and pulled it gently downward. It went on easily, thanks to the front opening and deep V neckline. She had originally planned to tie the front closed with a strip of vine, but she decided not to bother. Sure, the neckline was a bit revealing, but the dress itself was less pliant than she expected. It had such a defined structure, there was no way it would slip to one side and reveal too much. Around her body, the vines felt like the boning inside a strapless gown. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing she’d ever worn, but it wasn’t bad either.

Once she had the dress on, Olivia realized she wouldn’t be able to relax again until she took it off at the end of the night. She didn’t want to risk damaging any of the delicate leaves by sitting or even leaning on them.

When she turned to look in the mirror, her mouth fell open. The dress looked like something a mythical goddess would wear. Her own body looked unreal somehow, and she knew the effect would be even more pronounced once she did her hair and makeup and put on a pair of heels.

Amber came over early to get ready. When she heard the knock, Olivia ran to the door barefoot and pulled it open.

Amber’s eyes widened. “Holy shit, Liv.”

“I know,” Olivia said, “It looks better than I ever imagined. I feel like I’m about to become the poster child for sustainable couture.”

When they arrived at the gala, they were stopped almost immediately by a photographer, and others followed suit. Olivia wasn't a famous designer or model; she didn’t even have her own fashion line, but that night she discovered the warmth of the spotlight. People she’d spent years admiring from a distance approached her to introduce themselves. They offered business cards and asked for her Instagram. She felt like a debutante coming out into the society where she most wanted to belong.

Most of the guests had made an effort to dress for the theme, wearing suits and gowns that were either vintage or created by prominent sustainable brands—but nothing came close to the violetta.

After an hour or so, Olivia and Amber stepped behind a cluster of palm trees to escape the crowd. The trees were real ones that had been installed to temporarily make the ballroom feel “green.”

Amber handed Olivia a glass of champagne and said, “To the belle of the ball.” They clinked glasses, sipped their drinks, and kissed.

“How does it feel to finally be here?” Amber asked.

“Great,” Olivia said. Then she looked down at her dress. “But this thing is more fitted than I realized. Or maybe I’m just a little overwhelmed right now. I can feel my heart racing.”

“Do you want to find a place to sit down?”

“I’ve got to stay on my feet, but it’s just one night. I’ll get through it.” And she did.

Throughout the event, Olivia's excitement kept her energized, but when they finally stepped outside, she felt exhausted and uncomfortable. The vines seemed tighter than they had earlier, and she figured they were rubbing against her skin, causing irritation.

“Should I call a car?” asked Amber.

“I think I just need a minute to breathe. It’s cooler out here, which helps.”

Amber reached into her bag, “If you’d rather walk back to your apartment than squish your beautiful creation up in the backseat of a Lyft, these might be helpful.” She held out a pair of Olivia’s comfy flats.

“You’ve had those in your bag all night?”

Amber nodded. “I know you.”

“You’re a miracle,” Olivia told her. She couldn’t bend over in the dress, so she dropped the flats on the sidewalk to slip them on, and Amber tucked the heels into her bag.

Olivia’s apartment was only about a mile away, and they walked slowly, even as a light rain began to fall.

“This rain can do whatever it wants to my hair, now,” Olivia said. “Frizz it up, I don’t care. I looked good when it mattered.”

“You still look good,” Amber said.

About a block from her apartment, Olivia felt short of breath. She said, “Tonight was perfect, but I think it was a little too much for me.”

Amber asked. “Should I come up?”

“I think I just need to take a bath and go to sleep,” Olivia said. “I’m worn AF.”

“Totally. How about if I come over in the morning and take you out to a celebratory brunch?”

“That sounds amazing.”

They kissed good night, and Olivia took the elevator up to her apartment. She kicked off the flats and walked barefoot to the bathroom, where she began filling her vintage clawfoot tub.

In the bathroom mirror, Olivia saw that her face was flushed. She also noticed that her dress had become less revealing; over the course of the night, a few vines had grown across the deep neckline. “Damn, this thing really is high maintenance,” she said out loud. She tugged at one of the vines, but it was stuck firm.

She’d have to pull the whole dress over her head to get it off. She tried to lift the bottom, but the violetta felt like it had been glued to her upper thighs. She couldn’t budge it.

The big event was over, so the dress no longer mattered. “Don’t be precious about this,” she told herself. She went into the living room to get her shears, and then stood in front of the mirror.

She inserted the lower blade into the front of the dress and cut through a few of the vines. She yanked at them, trying to create a bigger opening, but the vines clung to her body. She pulled off a few handfuls of leaves, trying to get a better look at what was going on between the vines and her skin. The holdfasts hadn’t been able to attach themselves very well to the trash bag, but they had locked onto her sweaty pores like superglue.

She cut through more of the vines, but she still couldn’t get the dress loose. As the tub filled with hot water, the bathroom started getting steamy. When the mirror fogged up, she set the shears on the side of the tub so that she could turn off the faucet. As she reached over the steaming tub, the vines tightened, forcing the air from her lungs.

“I should call someone,” she thought, but her phone was too far away. She had to focus. Cut the vines. She pulled at the plant, tearing off leaves. She managed a shallow breath.

The violetta pieces on the floor around her began to stretch and wiggle in the steamy air, looking for something to climb, something to cling to.

Then the room started to move, too. Olivia grabbed the edge of the sink to steady herself.

A noise behind her made her jump. She spun around, nearly losing her balance.

“It’s just me,” Amber said, “When you didn’t answer my text, I got worried.”

Olivia whispered, “Help.”

Amber grabbed a handful of vines at the center of Olivia’s chest and pulled as hard as she could. When they broke, Olivia gasped, able to breathe again.

Where the vines had been, there were tiny patches of raw skin. “Oh god,” Amber said, “I’m tearing your skin.”

“Get it off me,” Olivia pleaded. They both yanked at the vines, leaving raw spots all over Olivia’s back, chest, and thighs. When the vines were fully removed, Olivia hugged Amber tightly.

“I’m so glad I had a key,” Amber said.

Olivia could feel herself starting to tear up. She gestured at the plant pieces that were wriggling around their feet. “What do we do with all this?”

“Do you have any bleach?” Amber asked.

“In the hall closet,” she said. As Amber went to grab it, Olivia started picking up the remains of what had once been a dress. She threw each bit of vine and scrap of leaf into the bathwater, where they continued to squirm. One vine clung to the smooth porcelain tub, its tendrils stretching upward, until Olivia knocked it back into the water. When the floor was clean, Amber poured the entire container of bleach into the tub. Only then did the pieces stop moving.

“Let’s leave them there overnight,” Amber said.

Olivia nodded and reached for her bathrobe. “Maybe I’ll have a cup of tea instead of a bath,” she said. “And maybe I do want you to stay over after all.”

In the morning, the plants in the tub were gray and lifeless. Olivia drained the water and used rubber gloves to move the detritus into a trash bag. She tied the bag closed, then went out to the hallway and dropped it in the trash chute. Once the dress was safely disposed of, she was ready to face the world again. The smell of bleach was still very strong in the bathroom, so before they left for brunch, Olivia opened the bathroom window to air it out. She didn’t have a window screen, so she closed the bathroom door as she left, just in case any bugs flew in.

Olivia felt a thousand times better after a good night’s sleep. The raw spots on her skin still hurt a little, but at least nobody could see them when she was fully dressed. And her phone had been buzzing all morning. A photo of Olivia and Amber had been featured on the Vogue website as part of their Green Fashion Week coverage, and she sensed that a door of opportunity was opening for her.

As the two women walked toward their favorite brunch spot, Amber said, “We’re doing bottomless mimosas today, right? I think we deserve them.”

“Hell yeah!” Olivia responded. “Last night was the craziest night of my life. I’m so glad it’s over.”

Meanwhile, for one small purple sprig that had fallen behind the clawfoot tub, life was just beginning.

(Originally published in the Los Angeles NaNo Anthology Engineering Chaos)