I was getting ready for a night of dancing when the doorbell rang. The mirror was covered in a dozen rejected outfits, each one tossed aside after a few minutes of self-scrutiny. My friend—well, acquaintance was probably the better word—was waiting downstairs, so I shouted, “Come up!” as I squeezed into my latest choice: a shimmering black mesh top and a short skirt that caught the light like liquid. She appeared at my be...