Quality Material

The customers milled past, observing the ware with critical eyes, whispering amongst themselves. The regulars were pointing out subtle details - qualities and blemishes invisible to an untrained eye.
"What's that brown speck?" A lady in a red top-hat whispered to her bespectacled companion.
"I don't think it's trouble," the man responded, peering closer.
I held my breath, quivering as he poked at the birthmark below my clavicle with a thick finger. I kept quiet, but silently I prayed the mark would put him off; he was disgusting.
"This is quality material," he concluded, lustfully eyeing my youthful curves. "I'll buy."