Fashion Fraud Collection

by Campbell, Jamie

  She was kind of scary when she was angry. Behind that mask of quietness roared a lion. “Fine, fine, don’t get your knickers in a knot.”

  I pressed the buzzer. Which led to us being let into the building. Which then meant we were sitting with Marigold and she was flicking through my sketchbook again. I brought the best one I had with me. Not that it would make any difference. She was going to hate them all anyway.

  “Hmmm.” Marigold made a lot of noises while she flipped through the pages. Sometimes I got my hopes up and thought they were good hmmms. But then I thought some sounded like bad hmmms. I was totally confused.

  Jane grew paler the longer we stood there. I probably would have fainted from the stress of it all if my stomach wasn’t tying in knots and distracting me.

  I wanted to vomit.

  In fact, I was pretty certain I was going to. I couldn’t watch Marigold, it was driving me crazy not knowing what was going on inside her head.

  Did she like the designs? Did she hate them? Last time I’d shown her my sketchbook she had seemed interested. I would even go so far as to say she was impressed. But now? Ugh, I just didn’t know.

  Finally, in what felt like ten years’ time, she closed the sketchbook. “You are a very talented young woman, Truly.”

  “So you want to use my designs in your collection?” My breath hitched in my throat. Great, so I was losing the ability to talk again too. I’d never had a problem before – just ask my teachers.

  “I’m afraid not,” Marigold said, crushing all my dreams for a second time. “Your designs are lovely, don’t get me wrong. I thought I might be able to do something with them, but now I see they’re just a bit too young for my demographic.”

  “Too young?” Jane asked, interrupting. She didn’t seem as outraged as I was, more… curious. Jane liked to deal with facts.

  Marigold nodded, handing me the book. “I dress the middle aged, sophisticated women of the world. These designs would be better for women in their teens or twenties. Thank you for coming in, and keep it up, Truly. I’m sure you’ll do well someday.”

  That was a dismissal if ever I’d heard one. Marigold’s assistant appeared at the door, confirming my suspicion. She led us out of the office and made sure we left without any dramas.

  The minute we were outside, Jane spoke. “Well, that sucked. What a waste of time. She should have just said that last Saturday.”

  The part of me that had worshipped Marigold Parker for so long felt an overwhelming desire to defend her. “I guess she wanted to take a good look so she could be sure.”

  “Indecisive people are the worst types of people. That’s what my father always says.” And just like that, I understood Jane so much more. I got the feeling most of her little ‘quirks’ came from her parents.

  We walked to Jane’s car in silence. Except, my brain wasn’t quiet. It swirled with a new idea, something that took a few minutes to form. But when it did, I couldn’t believe how brilliant it was. Sometimes I even surprised myself.

  “You know, Jane, Marigold was right.”

  “I don’t think she was factually incorrect about anything. The whole thing just sucks,” Jane replied, not taking her eyes off the road as we entered the highway.

  “Marigold said my designs were for young women, that’s what she was right about,” I explained further. “I don’t want to design for old people.”

  “Older people need clothes too.”

  “You’re not getting it. Marigold loved my designs, she was impressed enough to invite us to her office. That doesn’t happen every day.”

  “No, I’m sure it doesn’t.”

  I was practically bursting with my idea now. “That means I’m good. Great even, if someone like Marigold liked them. Why don’t we just start our own design label? We could make clothes for people our age.”

  Jane tore her eyes off the road long enough to give me a disapproving glance. “We can’t, we’re too young. We can’t even legally enter into contracts for another two years. Plus, we have school.”

  All I heard was ‘blah blah blah’.

  “But don’t you think we would be able to do it? With my designs and your sewing, we would totally rock it out. It would be awesome.”

  “I’m not denying that we wouldn’t be great. I mean, our dress is amazing. And it was kind of really fun doing it. But we can’t stop being sixteen, nobody will take us seriously.”

  I heard her objection, I understood her objection, but there had to be a way around it. I mean, talent like ours could not be wasted, right? Two years seemed a very long time to deny the world beautiful clothes.

  Jane pulled up at my apartment building and walked up with me. It still felt weird having her in my world, but she’d already seen it so there was no point in pretending it didn’t exist now. If my messy life hadn’t scared her off yet, then she was probably either blind or didn’t care.

  Just as we were about to reach my apartment, I stopped. Another idea was forming. “Jane, is it true that the only problem you see with my brilliant idea is the fact nobody would take us seriously?”

  She pursed her lips while thinking it over. Finally, she nodded. “That’s correct. We are kids, nobody takes kids seriously. Even if we are considered adults in some states, are able to buy tobacco products in other states, and can legally marry in some countries.”

  Again, blah blah blah.

  “So what about if we had an adult as the face of the business? They could sign all the contracts and tell people they’re the designer?”

  She had to think that through too. “That would be deceptive.”

  “But it would solve our problems. Nobody would ever find out we’re the ones really running the label. It’s not like anybody will get hurt. We’re only talking clothes here, not brain surgery.”

  Jane shrugged, all out of objections. “I guess that would be acceptable then. But where would we find an adult that would pretend to be a fashion designer for us?”

  My eyes went to the door next to mine. “I have just the person.”

  CHAPTER 12

  While it was true that my plan was not exactly thought out, it was brilliant. Even I had to admit that. Jane too, for that matter.

  I knocked on my neighbor’s door. Hope answered after unlocking the numerous locks. “Truly, hi. Is everything okay?”

  Hope Bradley was my twenty year old neighbor. She had dropped out of college four months ago for ‘personal reasons’. I had yet to uncover what they were, but I knew she had a lot of time on her hands and needed cash. My mom always got her to babysit for my siblings when I wasn’t available. If Mom trusted her with real, living human beings, surely I could trust her with a business. Right?

  “Everything is fine.” I flashed her one of my award winning smiles (Note: that is a lie, I have never won any awards for my smile. However, if competitions like that did exist, I would totally have won). “This is my friend Jane. Can we come in for a minute?”

  Jane waved like she was my hostage and I would kill her if she didn’t do everything I told her to. Hope stepped aside and let us in. “Do you want a drink or something?”

  “No, we actually have something for you. A business proposition.”

  Hope arched her eyebrow in question. “Oh?”

  “How would you like to be a world famous fashion designer?” I asked, making it seem like we were on a game show.

  “I know nothing about fashion. And I can’t draw.”

  “You don’t need to.” As we sat on the couch, I explained our predicament. The fact we couldn’t run our own company and needed someone to pretend to be us. Jane didn’t say a word, neither did Hope.

  By the end of it all, I was exhausted from talking but charged with excitement. I was actually convincing myself while I spoke. We could do this. Like, really do it. It didn’t matter that others didn’t have any faith in my abilities, I did. And I would put my heart and soul into making sure we succeeded.

  “So?” I asked when I was finished.
“Do you want to be a fashion designer?”

  “This is a crazy plan,” Hope replied. Ha! That wasn’t even the hundredth time I had heard someone say that to me. I was a crazy plan machine.

  “Sometimes the world needs crazy.”

  Jane shifted in her seat. “I know it sounds a little… unconventional. But you wouldn’t really have to do anything. Your name will be on things, and if we get really good, you might have to sign some contracts. Other than that, we’re going to be doing all the work.”

  “Do you really think people will believe I can run my own business?” Hope directed the question to both of us, even though Jane didn’t even know her.

  I answered. “You’ve got half a college degree, of course they will.”

  “Have you spoken to your mom about this?” Oh, don’t pull the mom card, please.

  “I was hoping to keep it all a secret from her.” I didn’t mention the reason being that Mom wouldn’t think I could do it. I had enough self doubt, I didn’t need hers too.

  “So let me get this straight. I will pretend it’s my business, and that I am the clothes designer. In exchange for that, I get a cut of everything you sell?” Hope clarified. It was actually a pretty good summary.

  “Yep.”

  “You know that’s fraud, right?”

  “We are well aware of that fact,” Jane replied. “We are expecting nobody to find out. And it’s not hurting anyone, it’s only clothes.”

  “Please?” I threw it in again, hoping one more please would seal the deal.

  Hope sighed. “Fine, I’ll do it. But nobody else can know about this apart from us three. I don’t want to go to jail for fashion fraud. Got it?”

  I held my hand out, Hope shook it. “Deal.” She did the same with Jane.

  And just like that, the three of us were officially in the fashion business. Good thing Hope had half a business degree, because we were really going to need it.

  Fashion Friends

  CHAPTER 1

  There was nothing like the pressure of a deadline. If I didn’t have ten designs by the end of the week, Jane was going to kick my butt. Of course, she’d kick like a girl so it wouldn’t hurt, but I would probably feel bad about it anyway.

  And I thought homework was stressful.

  We had set our launch date for the fashion line. Jane organized a website template and everything. So far, it only said ‘Under Construction’ but it didn’t matter. We had a website started and it was going to be awesome – just as soon as I convinced a nerd at school to finish building it. That was still on my to-do list.

  So was picking a name.

  Jane and I – oddly enough – couldn’t agree. I wanted it to be called Truly Winx Fashion. Jane said that wasn’t fair. So then I, like the rational person I was, suggested Truly Winx and Jane Fashion. That was also panned.

  We had a screaming match about it then. Jane wanted something more creative and hard to trace back to us. Taking into account the fact we were only sixteen and were getting one of my neighbors to pretend to own the company, I did concede on that point.

  The problem was Jane wasn’t creative at all. She never saw my vision. I thought of all kinds of cool names, like Llama Designs, Pinkie Power Fashion, TJ’s Mega Awesome Clothes. She didn’t like any of them.

  So we were at a stalemate. Anytime either of us mentioned it, we instantly burst into an argument. So we dodged it like a bullet, dropped it like it was hot, and continued to call ourselves nothing. Which was kind of hard for the website nerd to finish something for us.

  And, oh, the pressure. If I didn’t have amazingly brilliant designs, then Jane couldn’t start sewing them together. She insisted that I had to have a design absolutely complete before she started, otherwise it was too hard to change things later. She was worse than our school principal.

  My hand was sore from all the sketching, my brain was even worse. I never imagined living my dream of being a fashion designer would be so much work. It never looked like that on television. One minute the designers are sketching, the next they have a perfect dress on a super skinny model. Apparently it’s not that easy in real life.

  Which sucks.

  “What do you think about this one?” Jane asked. She leaned back from her sewing machine and held up a blouse I had designed a week ago. It was red with a ruffle down each side of the buttons.

  And it was awesome.

  “That’s fantastic. Is it finished?” I asked. I wanted to wear it myself, stuff actually selling it.

  “No, it needs buttons and I have to tidy up the seams. But you like it?”

  “Of course I do.” I crossed her bedroom to inspect it up close. Jane wasn’t at all creative, but damn, she could sew. That was her strength, luckily I supplied all the creativity. It was why we were partners in the first place.

  “I love it, Jane. Seriously, I’m not just saying that. How many does that make?”

  She looked around at the rack of clothes hanging in the corner. “I think we’ve got about ten all up. I’ll start making different sizes next.” She wiped at her brow with the back of her hand. The bedroom of her mansion was starting to look like a factory. The floor was littered with pieces of material and cotton. Good thing she had a cleaner.

  “Good. Make sure to sew some big ones, I want everyone to be comfortable in our clothes. They shouldn’t just be for the super skinny.” That was important to me. I wanted all types of girls to be able to wear our line. Short, tall, large, small, poor, and rich.

  The one thing I had noticed after my countless hours of research was that fashion designers tended to be snobby. And that was putting it nicely. They seemed to think there was only one body type and one bank account that mattered.

  They were wrong. Every girl mattered.

  Luckily, it was something Jane agreed with. Our whole motto was that every girl deserved to feel good. If a design couldn’t do that, then it went into the scrap pile.

  My baby sister, Lily, was only two years old, but I didn’t want her growing up with body issues. I wanted her to one day live in a world where all kinds of beautiful were accepted and embraced.

  Not that Lily was ugly or anything. She was gorgeous, but I didn’t want her having to deal with body image issues when she grew up. Maybe I was just being a protective big sister, but I really wanted it to be that way. I hadn’t told Jane any of that, though.

  My eyes caught the time from the clock on the wall. It was already five o’clock and I was seriously late. “Jane, I have to go. My mom will be home.” And I had to have dinner, wrangle my brothers into the bath, and feed Lily. “I’m really sorry.”

  “That’s okay. Do you want a lift?”

  I hated asking Jane to drive me around the city. Unfortunately, buses didn’t even dare to enter her neighborhood – they were too scared of being mocked by the limousines. “Would you mind? I’m so, so sorry.”

  “Of course not. Come on.” She switched off the sewing machine and led me through the mega long corridors that were her house.

  Just as we pulled out, my cell phone started singing. “Hello?”

  “Truly, we have a problem.” It was Hope, the adult who was committing fashion fraud by pretending to run our company. She told everyone she was the fashion designer in exchange for a cut of the profits.

  And if she said there was a problem, then it had to be a serious problem.

  CHAPTER 2

  “Hope, what’s wrong?” I asked, trying to diffuse the rising panic. We were so close to the launch, so close to sharing our clothes with the world. It would be a serious tragedy if something happened now.

  “I can’t talk about it over the phone. Will you come over tonight? Please?” Hope pleaded.

  I agreed and we set a time for after dinner. I convinced Jane there was nothing wrong and she dropped me back at my apartment building.

  In one of her rare days off, Mom was home and just about to serve dinner when I walked in. She looked up from the table. “Hey, honey. How was your day?”<
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  “Good.”

  “What did you get up to with Jane? That’s your new friend’s name, right?” She cocked her head to the side as she asked the question, much like what a Labrador would do.

  I took some plates from her and finished setting the table. “We just hung out. Nothing much.”

  Mom didn’t know about our fashion business. If there was one thing I was scared of most of all, it was her disapproval. She didn’t think I could do anything like this and I didn’t want to prove her right. It was much easier keeping it from her.

  I was a liar. There, I said it. But I didn’t care. I would tell Mom everything when we became a huge success. Until then, I would continue to lie.

  Not that I condone lying. I don’t. Just when it’s necessary.

  Unfortunately, I found it necessary quite a bit. “So tell me about your day,” I said, flipping the conversation back to her.

  My two brothers, Billy and Ethan, joined Lily, Mom, and I for dinner as we all sat down at the table. If anyone was to choose that moment to look through the window, they would probably think we were the perfect family.

  We weren’t.

  But sometimes we got it together enough to share a meal and not have the entire apartment explode. It was moments like that which I really enjoyed. My brothers were a little less annoying and my sister was a little less loud.

  It didn’t make me forget about Hope’s problem though. After I helped with the dishes, I made up an excuse to go next door. There I was, lying again.

  And, once again, it was necessary.

  Hope was a bundle of nerves when she answered the door. “Truly! Thank goodness you’re here. I’m freaking out.”

  I guided her over to the couch, afraid she’d pass out. “Tell me what the problem is. Whatever it is, I’m sure we can work it out.” My stomach was in knots.

  “They know. They know I’m lying.”

  “Who’s they?”

  “Everyone,” Hope said, her eyes as wide as saucers.