Cinderella's Dress

I’ll admit, I rolled my eyes at the idea of *another* Cinderella retelling—until Kate Allen marched onto the page with her sketchbook and a chip on her shoulder. Slayton’s version isn’t about waiting for a prince; it’s about a girl who’d rather design dresses than wear them, navigating a world where women’s contributions to the war effort are both celebrated and sidelined. The audiobook’s pacing mirrors Kate’s journey: slow and deliberate as she sketches in her notebook, then breathless when she’s thrust into the spotlight (literally, thanks to a last-minute understudy gig). Gaffney’s performance is a masterclass in tonal balance. She nails Kate’s sarcasm—“I’d rather sew my lips shut than sing in public”—but her real strength is the secondary characters. The gruff theater manager, the smug leading lady, even the love interest (who, refreshingly, isn’t the focal point) all feel distinct. My only critique? The middle act drags slightly during the dress-design montages—we *get* it, Kate’s talented, but I found myself fast-forwarding through the fabric swatch descriptions. And while the wartime setting is vivid, the stakes occasionally feel uneven; the “mystery” around the dress’s origin lacks the tension of, say, Kate’s very real fear of bombing raids. Still, the final act’s emotional payoff—particularly the scene where Kate confronts her mother about her own deferred dreams—landed hard. This isn’t a fairy tale. It’s a love letter to the women who stitched the seams of history while the men were away.