How Do I Look?

She rose. She leaned in towards her legs and picked up her bag, placing it on her lap. She collected herself and lowered the over-head mirror. She ran her hands in her hair and shook, reviving it. She met her eyes in the mirrors, and did not bare to stare for more than a second. Without looking down, she fiddled in her Prada bag and produced her little magic box. Still not looking down, she tilted slightly to the left, and then to the right to check if her hair was flawless. She applied some more make-up, freshening up her already-almost-perfect look.
She leaned in closer to the mirror, and artistically shaped her eyes, widening them. She tilted her neck upwards, her eyes moving downwards at the same constant rate until she met her lips in the mirror. She tried not to think too much while she was adding some lip gloss. Pressing her lips against each other, she leaned backwards and checked herself again in the mirror.

A knockout. By her own standards. A true knockout.

She lifted herself a bit to straighten her skirt from underneath. She pulled down on her shirt. She reached for the door handle and got out of the now-parked Ferrari. She bent down to check her heels intact, and made her way to the parked Maserati Quattroporte.

She started her car and looked to her left. She waved to the driver of the Ferrari and smiled.