Before leaving 450 Avocado Lane, Chloe untied her yellow corsage (something her dad handed her through tears and Pau attached through juk) to add the single yellow hibiscus behind her left ear, ditching the tiara. Overall, the look was serious but romantic, open and closed, soft like the fur and hopeful like the wings.
It was an ode to three different eras, something way old, something in-between, and something still au courant.
That was it! She would call her last look an Ode to Three—or maybe even an Ode to FD?
Last Looks
Look for love in unexpected places
Expect love to keep you in one place
Well, showing up to prom did signal a change of something inside, a turning point, a decision made at a crossroad of life. The Last Look was really more of a New Beginning! The End of an Era for real! High school be gone! Chloe felt light as a feather and giddy with anticipation. And giddy with hunger, too. She had skipped dinner to finish styling Sue and needed Fritos, bad. The lime-colored sign of the patron saint of late-night eaters, 7-Eleven, glowed in the distance. Thank gawd.
Chloe stood in line with a supersized bag of Fritos and some jalapeno sauce when she definitely felt someone watching her. Peter? No.
It was a very chicy-chic lady. She was old. She must have been, like, at least thirty, but pretty hot. She was wearing an impeccably sleek duster coat, the deep V contrasting well with her impossibly high-knotted ponytail. Her nails were crimson, short and square, fingers done up with an impressive set of right-hand rocks featured only on her middle fingers. A chunky red bracelet was the only splash of color on her otherwise black palette. She was definitely rad, in an uptown-downtown kind of way. What was she doing at a 7-Eleven in El Conejo?
Chloe nodded coolly with her half-opened bag of chips and left. The woman followed her in total Manhattan stride.
“Excuse me,” she said. Chloe stopped. She couldn't imagine what the woman could want but she was getting pretty used to spontaneous encounters with all kinds.
“Whoooo made your suit?” she asked.
“Um, no one you'd know.” Mouth full of Fritos, Chloe blushed and turned to walk away.
The woman clickety-clacked after her at an accelerated pace.
“But you must tell me! It's absolutely dandy but not! So soft and sleek, tough yet supple—full of whimsy and charm.”
This woman was a walking, talking … Chloe couldn't bring herself to use the F word (you know which played-out word I'm talking about), but that was exactly what she was. Chloe couldn't help but smile.
“Want a Frito?” Chloe offered. She held the bag out, feeling totally retarded.
“Oooooh, I haven't had one of these for years.” The woman dipped a finger in the bag and nibbled a single chip.
“Thank you. But you didn't sayyy, whoooo are you featuring?”
Chloe's eyes lit up. The woman had just used, like, her favorite verb, EVER!
“Oh, I guess, me?”
The woman's eyes lit up too.
“Reee-ally. So you're a designer then.”
“Not exactly,” Chloe whispered.
“A stylist?”
“Nooo …”
“Shy and elusive one, hum? Come and tell me, who's your rep?”
“I'm … in between reps, right now?”
“Then where can I see your line? Are you based in N.Y. or L.A.?”
“Um … neither.”
“Good, then you're below the radar. But tell me! Whooo carries your line?”
Carries her line. Was she for real?
“Well, I'm not exactly in stores.”
“Even better. So you do custom pieces, one-offs, or just ready-to-wear?”
“Sometimes all three,” Chloe blurted.
A town car slowly appeared, purring alongside the curb.
“Look, sweetie, I'm sooo terribly late for my flight.” The lady unclutched her Birkin bag, a real one, and unfolded a metallic case that held a set of tiny cards.
“Cahhll me Monday. We'll figure out a plan.”
Intrigued, the mystery woman slipped into the car, one stiletto at a time.
“Unreal. There just might be hope this season yet! And to think, way out west on the coast.”
The town car proceeded to drive away, and then abruptly stopped. A window zipped down and the chicy-chic lady raised a hand to her angular chin, calling after Chloe one last time …
“Yoo-hoo! Designer girl! But I didn't get your name?”
Chloe looked at the card in dismay and then at the woman—now suspended in a way-pink cloud, pinker than any cloud she'd seen, like, EVER!
“Chloe Leiberman—s-sometimes Wong!” she stammered, not quite believing her kind of luck.
The woman nodded approvingly; she even, dare I say, smiled.
“That's just a fabulous name,” the Manhattan lady purred, winking and waving goodbye as the town car faded into the warm, ohsoCali night.
And that was how it was.
THE END.
[But you know the end is always just the beginning, don't you? Of course you do….]
[in order of appearance]
YIDDISH: rhymes with kiddish. The unofficial language of MOTs, members of the tribe, as in the tribes of Israel.
NOSH: rhymes with mosh. To snack.
SANS: rhymes with Cons, as in the sneakers. Means without, as in without a postgrad plan.
OV VEY: rhymes with boy-day. An exaggerated sigh of lament.
FAUX PAS: faux pronounced fo, like fo real; pas pronounced pau, like Chlo's Chinese gram. Means a big ol’ DON'T.
HI-YAAA: hmm … this one can be used in several ways to express irritation or aggravation, and is always screamed, never said, just like Jackie Chan would say when kicking someone hard. Often accompanied by an eye roll, snort, or slap, the yaaaa should be accentuated to show the extent of your how-could-you-be-so lame, dumb, etc., feeling….
KOK NAY GAN TUH!: pronounced as spelled. An expression as if to say, You are so stupid I feel compelled to smack you in the head.
OY GEVALT!: like fry the salt. Means oh jeez this is terrible….
KOSHER: rhymes with oh sure! Literally means fit to eat but also means it's all good, which this information most certainly was not.
COUTURE: rhymes with too pure. Means high, high fashion.
LO-FAN: Cantonese for white people. This is not to be confused with lo-fun, which means flat white noodles (when stir-fried in tomato-flavored beef, a particularly tasty dish Pau likes).
TAT-TAT-HIGH: tat-tat like hot hot. Backless slippers favored by old Chinese ladies so it's easier to rub Tiger Balm onto their unfortunately cracked heels.
BALENCIAGA: the great Basque master of dress and illusion—a leader of Spanish couture, definitely NOT what Lucinda was wearing.
EURO-METROSEXUAL: OK, so unless you've been in a coma the past four years you already know that a metrosexual is not a gay guy (but could be) but is someone with a good sense of style who moisturizes, maybe owns a product or two. So add the Euro and imagine Euro-styling details like turned-up collars and sockless loafers… …
PLOTZ: rhymes with lots. Means to burst or explode, which can be either a good or bad thing depending on the situation.
CHOZZERAI: said all Bob-Fosse-jazz-hands style. Literally means pork, but really means crap. (Strangely enough, in Cantonese the word for pork, “char-su,” is pronounced quite similarly to the Yiddish “chozzerai.”)
L'CHAYIM: rhymes with OH BUY THEM! Means TO LIFE! and is said like you're hawking a loogie: “Luuuk-HI-AM!”
FI-DI-LA: rhymes with why-see-ma? Means wrap it up already.
LUFTMENSH: rhymes with fluffed bench. Means exactly what Zeyde said.
GUNG HAY FAT CHOY: means Happy New Year. Gung like Jung, as in Karl JUNG and hay like day, fat like bought, and choy with boy or toy or both.
SHLEMIEL: pronounced shla-meal. An idiot, a numbskull, a fool.
MESHUGGE: pronounced mu like mushy; shug like Suge Knight, the formerly incarcerate
d rapper; uh like duh. MU-SHUG-GUH means CRA-ZY.
CHUTZPA: the gall, the nerve, also the balls, even guts. Is hurled, not said, and loud. Chut like foot, zpah like spa.
SHMATTE: rhymes with gotta. A cheap and shoddy rag, useless dreck, something not kosher to wear.
SHVITZING: shhvitzing. To sweat like a beast (do beasts even sweat?).
FAI-JI: like pay-day. Means fat boy in Cantonese.
BOK-GUI: rhymes with bok choy, the leafy green vegetable, but means white ghost.
MO LAY YEL: no way sisters. Pronounced as sounds, and loud.
PALAZZO PAJAMAS: once upon a time when terry cloth Juicys and velour JLos did not yet exist, ladies lounged for the evening in these sassy, silky wide-legged numbers.
ROGER VIVIER: Rooojer Viviyeah! A master, a visionary, a great Parisian shoe designer who even made shoes for the queen.
CHIN-SEN-PAU: means crazy lady, which Pau kinda is but, like, in a good way.
TIT DA JOW: rhymes with bit a cow. Aforementioned Tiger Balm.
GAO-CHAW: rhymes with ow-straw. Means you've-got-to-be-kidding-me and yes, it's like the only thing Chlo knows how to say in Cantonese, except for Happy New Year.
MO-YUNG: mo like oh, yung like jung, again, as in Karl Jung. Means totally useless.
CHOLA: rhymes with cola. Spanish slang for a girl who looks tough and might be very capable of kicking your ass.
SANTERA: a high priestess of the Santeria faith and no, they're not crazy people who kill chickens for fun!
KIBBITZ: to shmooze, to socialize—kib as spelled, bitz like fits.
MUSLIN: cheapy fabric to practice sewing with, just in case you mess up, which is highly encouraged, the messing-up part that is.
FAT-MUNG: fat like bought. Mung like jung, again, as in Karl Jung. To be absentminded, distracted; to daydream excessively.
PINCHE: Spanish slang that rhymes with finchy. Means damn! but as an adjective—worthless, stupid, and usually annoying.
SUR-JEN: pronounced as spelled. Means insolent girl.
PEIGNOIR: pronounced pen-waaa. A little floaty nightie number, usually a see-through one.
HABERDASHERY: pertains to everything tailor-made, traditionally for men.
DEAD STOCK: retail goods left over from way back in the day so, like, they're prime unused vintage.
SAUTOIR: rhymes with po-twa. A drapey bracelet.
CLARO QUE SI: rhymes with borrow-a-T. Means but of course, en español. Sometimes just “claro” is used.
GAUCHOS: rhymes with Grouchos. Really wide culottes—shaped like floods but shorter, to the knee.
CAFTAN: like a muu-muu, but a chic one, to the floor, like Rosy would wear—think Istanbul and exotic ladies on great big terraces overlooking sand and sea.
CREEPERS: an og punk-rock shoe, on the Herman Munster tip—and actually like a wingtip, except on an elevated, platform sole.
LA FAMILIA ES TODO: family is everything, blood is everything, “es todo.”
SHLEP: means to go the distance with difficulty. Schl like shhl. Ep like yep. Shha-lep.
SMOCKED: made by gathering fabric in little bunched-up stitches, like, on decorative maid's aprons or Heidi-ish folk-dancer garb.
LOW-MEAN PAU: means mean and bitter old lady, just like Chloe said.
JUK: rhymes with book. Chinese porridge with assorted gross stuff in it. Probably not kosher.
MO-DOM: like no gum. Means got no guts.
PINTUCKS: tiny raised seams kinda like pleats. Decorative and functional, very cool.
PUTA: Am I allowed to say what this means? For real, it's not very nice.
TOUCHÉ: too-shay. Means you got me, like, you're right.
CHUTZPA: again, pronounced like you're hawking a loogie: Hootzpah (like foot-spa). Means, like, the nerve.
SHMENDRICK: pronounced as spelled. A hopeless, desperate, wimpy dork.
SHLUB: Like tub. A shlub looks like the word sounds, all bloblike.
EMBELLISHMENT: the “fancy” way to refer to the bells and whistles sewn onto a garment, also known as TRIM.
MAVEN: an expert, which, on the topic of style, Spring was certainly not.
SCHMALTZ: rhymes with waltz. Literally means chicken fat but I'm sure you get the point.
SHMOOZ: to mingle, to hobknob, to mix for the cause, usually a selfish one.
NEBBISH: kinda a loser, but a sweet one who you feel bad for cuz he means well, which brings me to mensh….
MENSH: rhymes with bench. An absolute cutie-pie, someone you want to mush up into a little ball because he is that sweet.
TÊTE-À-TÊTE: rhymes with get-ah-pet. Means a little get-together.
HAUTE COUTURE: pronounced oat like oatmeal, coo-tour. Means the best of the best, la crème de la crème, in design, not ice cream.
PIÈCE DE RÉSISTANCE: pee-es-doo-ray-zees-tahns! The final destination, the end of the road, the culmination of greatness.
PEPLUM: ruffly detail sewn at the waist. Usually on a jacket but can be on a dress.
AU COURANT: rhymes with oh, mo-ron. Means in-the-know and now.
is a Chinese/Polish/Jewish WASP who did go to college. A graduate of UCLA, she has designed and owned her own women's clothing line; sold designs to costume designers for Friends and The OC; and been a stylist for rap videos, pop-punk bands, supermodels, party girls, airline commercials, and indie films. She has also been a creative consultant for Mattel, American Girl, Loews Hotels, and Hard Candy cosmetics.
Writing runs in her quirky family. Her grandfather Leo Rosten wrote dozens of screenplays and books, including The Joys of Yiddish; her great-uncle William Steig wrote many children's books, including Shrek. In her spare time, the bicoastal author eats sushi, reads trashy magazines, and compulsively shops while drinking soy chai lattes.
Published by Delacorte Press
an imprint of Random House Children's Books
a division of Random House, Inc.
New York
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2005 by Carrie Rosten
All rights reserved.
Delacorte Press and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
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The Library of Congress has cataloged the hardcover edition of this work as follows:
eISBN: 978-0-307-48282-2
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Chloe Leiberman (Sometimes Wong) Page 13
