I’ve never thought of it that way, but it makes total sense. “Can I take pictures?” I ask. I imagine lurking behind displays and sneaking photos of different outfits.
“That would be helpful,” Michael says, “but most stores no longer allow that because of security issues. Better to sketch instead.”
My face falls. “I liked thinking of myself as a spy,” I say sheepishly.
Michael’s face grows serious. “You still are. We’re counting on you to report back with valuable information. Here are your instructions and the stores to hit.” He gives me a large manila envelope. “Agent Chloe Montgomery, will you accept your assignment?”
I hold back a smile. “I will.”
* * *
“Going to rob a bank?” asks Madison when she sees my outfit Saturday morning.
I roll my eyes. Maybe I’ve taken this spy thing too far, but it’s too fun not to! I’m dressed in a black romper and have a black scarf tied around my neck. The black sunglasses might be overkill, though. “You never know,” I say.
She stares at me, getting unnerved because she can’t see my eyes. “Whatever,” she finally says. “Have fun.”
I grab my bag, fling open the door, and jump when I see Jake standing there, hand poised to knock.
“Hey!” I say, giving him a hug. “What are you doing here?”
“We didn’t make definite plans, and I missed you. I thought I’d surprise you.” He looks me over. “Going somewhere?”
“Kind of, but you should come! I’m doing market research — it’s so up your alley.” I fill him in on my assignment as we walk outside. “Michael, one of my bosses, gave me a packet with information. I’m supposed to start with one of the high-end stores: Bergdorf, Henri Bendel, Barneys. He also gave me a charge card with instructions to bring back at least three of my favorite designs.”
I’ve passed the stores on Michael’s list several times, but I’ve never gone in. Even if I had, it’s not like I could have afforded to buy anything. Today will be different. If only school was this exciting!
“After you, m’lady,” says Jake, holding open the door to Barneys.
I giggle. “Why, thank you, sir.”
Walking into Barneys is like walking into another world. The floors look like they’re made of marble, and there’s a beautiful winding staircase that looks like it belongs in a mansion. And then there are the displays. Each item is hung perfectly. The shoes in the shoe department are arranged by color scheme, size, and heel height. The lighting surrounds them like a halo, showcasing each heel and strap in the best possible angle.
I think of department stores back home. There are always shoes left on the floor or shirts thrown on racks. I’ve even tripped over a pair of pants left in the middle of the floor.
I grab Jake’s hand and we take the escalator to skirts. One item immediately catches my attention. I sketch its contrast trim and rounded hem. I expect the zipper to be in the back, but it’s hidden in the front. The shirt it’s paired with isn’t really my style, but it’s certainly unique. I sketch the silk material and tiny polka dots, then add the gold and black design on the front.
I turn to show Jake a sketch, but he’s nowhere to be seen. I was so engrossed in my assignment that I didn’t even notice he’d left.
“What do you think of this?” I hear him ask from a few racks down. He’s holding up a dress with an argyle knit pattern.
“I like the mesh top panel and the tan and black together.” I head over and check the price tag. Five hundred fifty-nine dollars! For rayon and spandex?
“How much would Stefan Meyers charge for something like this?” Jake asks.
I have no idea. For all I know, Stefan’s clothing might cost even more. I sketch the dress, then make a note about the price.
As we walk through the racks, my book quickly fills with sketches of jackets and dresses. I make notes about the fabrics I see and the detailed embellishments. One of my favorites is an embroidered paisley dress with a deep V-neck. I take it with me to bring back to Michael and start sketching a satin blouse with rhinestones on the collar.
“Chloe? Chloe!” Jake says, sounding irritated.
“Huh?” I say, looking up from my sketchbook. “What’s wrong?” Jake looks annoyed. He must have been trying to get my attention for some time.
Jake shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have just stopped by. You’re obviously busy. Let’s catch up later.” He gives me a hug goodbye and starts to walk away.
“Wait!” I say. “This won’t take all day. I’m almost done.” I show him my sketches.
“They’re good,” he says, “but don’t you want what you present to Michael to be great? You should hit one more store at least.” He doesn’t look annoyed anymore, just a little sad.
I start to argue. I really want to hang out with him today, but I know he’s right. I need to focus. Still, is it so selfish of me to want him to tag along? “Rain check?” I ask.
“Definitely.” Jake smiles, and his adorable dimple winks at me. Then he’s gone.
I stand there for a moment, feeling bummed. But there’s no time to waste. I have work to do. I make a beeline toward the clearance rack, paying close attention to the marked-down clothes. A cropped black sweater catches my eye, and I imagine it paired with killer black boots. The price has been marked down five times, and it’s only thirty dollars! I take one for myself and grab another for Michael. Then I sketch it, adding examples in other colors.
More clearance-rack sweaters beckon. I draw a sheer silver knit with an extended front hem as well as a forest- green sweater dress with beading around the collar. Before moving to the next department, I place both outfits in my bag for Michael.
In skirts and blouses, I follow a college girl who appears to have the same taste in clothing I do. At one point, she holds up a tailored, lavender shirt with mother-of-pearl buttons down the front. She looks in the mirror and checks the price tag before slowly putting it back on the rack. When she walks away, I sketch the shirt.
Finally I tear myself away from Barneys to check out another store. More than once, I think of turning and showing Jake one of my sketches, only to realize he isn’t there. I comfort myself with visions of shopping and spying and head to Bendel’s.
On Monday morning, Michael puts his legs up on his desk and takes a sip of coffee. “You like this knit style?” he asks, holding up my clearance sweater.
“I love it,” I say.
Michael rubs his chin. “It’s something to think about. I’ll be passing all these drawings on to Stefan.”
I wait as Michael examines the rest of my sketches. My shopping mission lasted all weekend. Sunday, I hit Bergdorf’s. Whenever I caught myself missing Jake and wondering if I should have cut my shopping expedition short, I’d sketch another dress or pair of shoes. Losing myself in work is always easy.
“The spreadsheet you created of the prices makes comparing them that much easier. Seems like you had fun,” Michael comments.
“Oh my gosh — so much!” I blush, remembering my little spy getup.
“Excellent! Because I have some online detective work for you next,” Michael says. “I need you to compile a list of women’s fashion blogs. You’re looking for the blogs with the most followers. Read the comments to gauge readers’ interests. Take notes on which blogs showcase the Stefan Meyers line. It’ll help us keep tabs on who to contact for more promotions.”
“Got it,” I reply. I head to my desk and open my laptop. But before I can do anything, my phone buzzes with a text from Jake: “Rain check? 6? Frankenstein’s Tavern?”
I type back quickly. “Yes!”
With one less thing to worry about, I dive into the blogs. I check the file Michael sent me of alerts with Stefan’s name and make a spreadsheet of the blogs that mention him the most. I’m working on ranking the blogs according to the numb
er of followers, then mentions of Stefan Meyers, when Stefan himself breezes past me. “Come, Chloe!”
Me? I think. I scramble from my seat and follow Stefan to Michael’s office.
“I wanted to deliver this great news in person!” Stefan announces. I see Michael trying to hide his surprise at Stefan’s sudden appearance. “Teen Design Diva wants Chloe to be a guest judge this season!”
“Really?” I say. I can’t believe it!
Michael looks less than thrilled. “When?”
“Today,” Stefan says excitedly. “It’s such a great opportunity. To have our intern involved in the judging keeps the spotlight on Stefan Meyers, especially with Fashion Week only two weeks away! Talk about great PR!”
“It is great PR,” Michael admits grudgingly. “But there’s still so much I’d like Chloe to do here.”
Stefan grins at me and waves off Michael’s concern. “Chloe can handle it all, can’t you?”
A little voice inside me panics. PR! Laura! Fashion Week! And now judging? Don’t forget your date with Jake! I push the panic away. “No problem,” I say, giving him a confident smile.
Michael turns to me. “How’s your blog report coming?” He doesn’t give me a chance to answer before he turns to Stefan. “When do they need her?”
Stefan looks at his watch. “She needs to report to Design Diva headquarters on 45th Street in an hour.”
“An hour?” Michael sputters.
Stefan shrugs. “It was in a memo from two days ago, but I just saw it. Sure dodged a bullet, didn’t I? We could have missed the whole thing!”
Michael grumbles something. “There’s still so much to do. Finish the blog work, help with gift bags, see how we work with models, help out during the fashion show… the list goes on.”
My mouth hangs open at all the opportunities ahead. Stefan wasn’t kidding about glamour.
“The show is filming at the hotel you stayed in during the Teen Design Diva competition. You will be reporting to the conference room. Do you remember how to get there?”
I nod, remembering the hotel’s marble floors and large conference room where we had to sew our designs. I’m excited but feel bad for leaving Michael.
“Tomorrow, it’s back to the grind,” I promise. “In the meantime, here’s everything I’ve done so far.” I hand him my blog spreadsheets and research.
“Have fun,” Michael says reluctantly.
“Thank you!” I’m tempted to hug both him and Stefan but manage to control myself.
I leave the office with just enough time to stop in my dorm and spruce up my outfit, changing into a cute taupe dress with a black belt. If I’m going to be on TV again, I want to look my best!
The little voice in my head keeps nagging me about taking on too much, but I swat it away. Besides, Stefan made it pretty clear he wants me to go. It’s not like I could have said no, even if I’d wanted to — which I didn’t.
Just then, my phone buzzes with a message from Jake. “Can’t wait to see you tonight!”
I think about telling him about my temporary Design Diva gig, but I’m sure I’ll be done with the judging by then. “Me too!” I write back. Who says I can’t do it all?
I pause at the entrance of the hotel where I completed so many challenges. Teen Design Diva seems ages ago. I take a deep breath and walk through the doors to the large conference room, pausing in the doorway to observe everything around me.
Contestants are sitting in groups, sometimes throwing nasty glances in their rivals’ direction. The judges, Jasmine DeFabio, Hunter Bancroft, and Missy Saphire, are huddled in a corner, deep in conversation. Even though I’m not the one with designs on the line, the familiar butterflies return to my stomach.
Just then, Missy spots me. “Chloe!” she cries, running over with her arms outstretched.
Her outburst draws everyone’s focus to me, and the contestants point at me and whisper to each other. They’re probably wondering what the heck I’m doing here.
Missy pulls me in for a hug before dragging me toward the other judges. “Come, come.”
Jasmine’s warm smile catches me off guard. “Good to see you, Chloe.”
“You look good,” Hunter adds, his blue eyes twinkling. “Very chic.”
I smooth down my ruffled dress, happy with the choice. “Thanks!”
“We’re looking forward to hearing your thoughts today,” says Missy. “It will be great for the contestants to get feedback from someone who’s been there.”
“I’m happy to help,” I reply. “But… to be honest, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.”
Missy smiles reassuringly. “You’ll walk around with us, following our lead. You can ask questions about the designs, but don’t give feedback — we don’t want to clue them in to which way we’re leaning. Once we start judging, feel free to express what you like and don’t about the designs. Make sense?”
I nod. “I think so. But I don’t want to discourage them during the judging process.”
“Don’t worry,” says Hunter. “Everyone has his or her own style. You can be constructive without being discouraging. Maybe focus on what you like before you say how to make something better.”
“That’s a good idea,” I say.
Jasmine glances at the clock, and her face takes on the stern look I remember. “People!” she calls to the contestants. “Please gather round. I’d like you to meet our guest judge, Miss Chloe Montgomery. I’m sure she has a few words she’d like to say.”
I look nervously at Hunter, who nods encouragingly. I didn’t think to have a speech prepared.
“Um,” I begin. “I’m so excited to be here today. This show has provided me with an amazing opportunity, and I’m so lucky to have been a part of it.” I pause and think about what helped me win. “Go with your heart. Don’t worry about what someone else might say. Just design what you believe in.”
The contestants clap, and I feel like a celebrity.
Missy raises her hand for silence. “Today we’re going back in time to the decade of bell-bottoms, peace signs, and all things groovy,” she says. “It’s the 1960s, baby!”
My interest is immediately piqued. What a cool challenge to judge! There are so many possibilities. I’d take this over my first Design Diva challenge — animal-inspired clothing at the zoo — any day!
“Before you get carried away,” Hunter says, “let me give you all the info. We’re looking for pieces inspired by 1960s patterns or styles. But as with all our challenges, there’s a catch. You’ll need to incorporate two styles — and they must be pulled out of our hat.” He reaches into a box on the judges’ table and pulls out a velvet hat.
A girl with flaming red hair whose nametag reads Dani goes first. She closes her eyes, reaches into the hat, and swiftly pulls out a scrap of paper. “Op art and swirly patterns!” she calls out.
A boy with a rainbow Mohawk — Kyle, according to his nametag — is next. He takes a deep breath before slowly opening his assignment. “Tie-dye and fringe,” he says. “Far out!” Everyone laughs.
A contestant with a lip ring, Carrie, walks up tentatively and draws out a slip of paper. “Peace sign and turquoise?” she says, then shuffles back to her seat. Those elements leave a lot of room for her to put her own spin on the piece. I’d have been excited, but Carrie looks confused.
The contestants continue coming up and choosing styles until all fifteen are done.
“I have some final instructions,” says Jasmine. “Use this challenge as an opportunity to step out of the box. Don’t make one big peace sign or flower and say that’s your vision. I want to see more than that.”
I stifle a giggle at Jasmine’s command to think outside of the box. I heard that phrase more than once during my stint on the show. If only it offered more direction.
“You will have three hours to complete your de
sign,” says Missy. “At that point, we will discuss what you created. Then the judges will deliberate, and one of you will go home. Any questions?”
The contestants nervously look at each other. I remember that feeling. No matter how many times you go through the process, each elimination leaves you worried you’ll be next.
“Ready?” says Missy. “Five, four, three, two, one — go!”
Just like when I was on the show, the contestants seem to be divided into two types of designers — those who run and grab the materials and those who take their time perfecting their vision.
I remember how crucial those beginning minutes were and give the contestants space. The camera crew, however, isn’t as gracious. They surround the contestants, getting in their faces as much as possible.
“Do you miss this?” asks Jasmine.
I think about the lack of sleep and stress. “Not so much.”
Jasmine laughs. “You guys were our guinea pigs. We figured out what worked and what didn’t. The current contestants are benefiting from that. Sorry.”
I smile. “Tell me about it. I would have killed for a challenge like this!”
“Thank you,” pipes up Missy. “All my idea.”
Jasmine rolls her eyes. “She’s said that so many times, you’d think the decade was her idea.”
Missy frowns at Jasmine, and the two start bickering. Just like old times. I walk away to chat with Hunter.
“How’s Stefan treating you?” he asks.
“Good,” I reply. “I’m learning a lot.”
“That’s the point. We worried a bit about whether the mentoring designers would take our winners seriously.”
I think about how to respond to his unasked question. “Stefan and the designers I’ve worked with have been really supportive. Not everyone feels the same, but overall it’s been great.”
Runway Rundown Page 3
