When Lin Wanying opened her eyes, she changed from an advertising company director in the 1990s wearing high heels and drinking instant coffee to a sallow and skinny textile factory worker wearing a patched old shirt in the late 1970s. The good news: She's alive and a dozen years younger. The bad news: The family is extremely poor, and the quota for a formal job has caused intrigues among relatives and a lot of bloodshed; the fiancé's family is even planning to "buy" her home with three kilograms of food stamps and a few feet of cloth to be used as a cow or a horse. The worse news is that the aesthetics of this era are simply a fashion desert! Looking around, everything is either blue or gray, and if you have a "good" shirt, you are considered fashionable and top-notch. Lin Wanying looked at her sallow face in the mirror and clenched her fists: Screw the arranged marriage, screw the best relatives! I want to make money! Be beautiful! Seize fate by the throat! So - while everyone was still scrimping for a really good shirt, Lin Wanying had already used her dexterous hands to modify the first pair of slim-fit bell-bottoms, which attracted the attention of all the female workers in the factory. While the salesmen at the supply and marketing cooperative were still wearing a "class struggle face", Lin Wanying had already set up a stall at the entrance of the alley. With her later marketing concepts and unique designs, she became the famous "Little Lin Boss". From bell-bottom pants to bat shirts, from Hong Kong-style wavy curls to toad mirrors, she lit up this gray era step by step into a colorful show. Lu Zheng, the always frowning and upright factory security section chief, when he first saw Lin Wanying in "fancy clothes", he taught her with a straight face: "Comrade, please pay attention to your style of work!" Later, he blushed,
