Rachel realized she was still wearing the platform heels that had magically appeared on her feet. She stepped out of them, but as she put her feet on the floor, she winced as pain started to shoot up her legs. She gritted her teeth and took a step, but it felt as if she were stepping on hot coals. She quickly slid her feet back into the shoes and felt instant relief.
The thought that she might be forced to forever wear high-heeled shoes crossed her mind, but for now she was more intent on finding clothes that would cover her up better than anything in her closet. She was definitely a different size than her mother now, but she thought she remembered Mom having an old, oversized set of sweats that might fit.
She found the plain gray sweatshirt and sweatpants on a hanger near the back of the walk-in closet in her parents' bedroom. She pulled the shirt over her head and then pulled what seemed like a mountain of red hair up through the neck hole. Fortunately, it fit adequately enough, looking like it was only going to leave a little bit of midriff visible.
As she was pulling the sweatpants up over her legs, though, Rachel realized she could feel the sweatshirt shrinking.
"No!" she yelled, and tried to pull the pants back down, but it was too late; they had tightened themselves around her enlarged hips and were shrinking as well, revealing her legs.
Within seconds, the outfit had taken its final form, as a highly abbreviated tank top and pair of shorts, dusky pink in color, that looked like they would be worn to a gym by a woman who wasn't really there to work out, but was there to pick up a buff young stud ASAP.
Then, as Rachel watched in horror, more of the contents of the closet began to change. Her mother's outfits were shrinking, changing colors, changing materials. Within about 30 seconds, her clothing and shoes looked very similar to what was now in Rachel's closet -- more or less, an entire wardrobe of hooker and stripper costumes. On the other side of the closet, fortunately, her father's clothing appeared to be unchanged.
Rachel stumbled out and saw that her parents' bedroom had been redecorated in a similar fashion to her bedroom. The main difference was that, instead of a canopy bed, her parents' bed was now on a platform a couple of steps up from the floor, and there was a mirror on the ceiling above it.
She crossed the room to the master bath, and it was immediately obvious that there was much less clutter. A quick inspection showed that there was no makeup of any kind, and only her father's shaving cream and razor. In the shower, there was a bottle of some shampoo intended for men, and some familiar-looking bottles of Magia Rojo Body Wash and Magia Roja Shampoo.
Rachel sat down on the toilet to think. Apparently, her mother had just been changed the way she'd been 15 minutes ago. She wondered if her mother had noticed her transformation.