As my camera rolls, I’m trying to capture Rhiannon’s surprised delight as she continues to absorb what’s really going on, but I wish she’d relax a little. It’s as if her words and movements are guarded, like she can’t let down in front of us.
As I focus the camera on her I realize that she’s much shorter than Paige, and although she’s very pretty with her long, curly auburn hair and green eyes, she doesn’t seem like the model type. I mean that as a compliment. But she also doesn’t seem very comfortable (like me) while the camera’s on her. Paige asks Rhiannon some routine questions, and I can tell she’s trying to get Rhiannon to relax.
When the crew finally arrives I make room for them, but I continue to film Rhiannon as she gives us a quick tour of the small studio. Soon, she’s talking about her own designs and what she hopes to achieve, and it’s like she’s suddenly coming to life.
“I want to be a responsible designer,” she says as she holds up an absolutely beautiful dress that’s a combination of all kinds of fabrics and notions and things. It’s kind of a like a patchwork creation, and yet it’s elegant and graceful-looking in varying shades of purple. “I try to use materials that are organic, recycled, and renewable…and I try to make each garment one of a kind.”
“Similar to Granada Greenwear’s mission,” Paige suggests. “Although I must say your styles are completely different. Perhaps more feminine.”
Rhiannon nods. “I adore Granada Greenwear. But, yes, I’d agree, our styles are different.”
“Your designs have a very delicate quality to them,” Paige says as she holds up a sky-blue dress. “Almost fairy-like.”
Rhiannon laughs and her eyes sparkle. “Yes, I’ve heard that before.”
“This is beautiful,” Paige says as she continues to study the blue dress. “I usually go more for the classic contemporary styles, but I think I would wear something like this…if it were the right occasion.” She nods to the rack of other clothes. “Why don’t you show us some more? Tell us about what you were hoping for with each creation, and what inspires you.”
It’s like Paige has somehow managed to flick the switch and Rhiannon comes completely and totally to life. I can tell that this interview is not only going well, but it will look fantastic on film too.
After more than an hour, we finally wind it down. But then Paige gets an idea. “How would you feel if I try on that gorgeous blue dress?” she asks Rhiannon. “To get some footage of it for the show. Is that all right?”
“Are you kidding?” Rhiannon rushes to the get the dress, thrusting it toward Paige. “I would love that!”
So while Paige is changing into the dress and Rhiannon scrambles to find the shoes that she knows will be perfect, we get our cameras ready to roll again. When Paige announces she’s coming out, we are filming. She pushes open the curtains and, not like a striding model but more like a ballerina, she glides out of the fitting room and sort of dances around the studio. “This dress is absolutely amazing,” she says. “I feel almost magical in it. Like I could do ballet or a very lovely waltz.” Then she goes and stands next to Rhiannon. “I’m Paige Forrester from On the Runway, standing next to a young woman who I’m certain is going to become a well-known designer before long. And I am wearing one of her dresses—an original Rhiannon Farley creation. And I am loving it.” She holds out a foot to show a delicate old-fashioned-looking ballerina slipper that’s encrusted with beads, buttons, and other things. “Don’t forget to put your best foot forward, and today it’s a Rhiannon creation. See you next week!”
“Cut,” calls Fran. “That’s a wrap.”
Rhiannon hugs Paige. “Thank you so much.” She actually has tears in her eyes. “You have no idea what this has meant to me.” She fumbles to find a scrap of cloth that she uses to blot her tears. “Even if it doesn’t make it on your show, I’m still—”
“Oh, don’t kid yourself,” Fran is telling Rhiannon. “I have no doubt this is going to make it on our show. It’s one of the most unique and refreshing interviews we’ve done.”
Rhiannon thanks everyone now. Then she turns to Paige. “Please, keep the dress.”
“Keep it?” Paige says lightly. “I already planned to buy it, if that’s okay.”
“No, I want to give it to you.”
“But I want to—”
Rhiannon holds up her forefinger to stop her. “No. You must let me give it to you. I have this very strong feeling—a spiritual feeling—that I need to give it to you. So please let me.”
Paige smiled. “Only if you let me buy the shoes.”
Rhiannon sticks out her hand. “It’s a deal.”
Then we tell Rhiannon about how we’re going to stay with Taylor and Eliza after Fashion Week ends. And I ask if she might be able to pop over while we’re there. “It’d be fun to get to know you better.”
“Are you kidding? I’d love to come.”
So, feeling like we’re all old friends, Paige and I both hug Rhiannon, and then we head back to our hotel. And I have to say, I don’t think I’ve enjoyed doing a segment for a show as much as the one we did today. Rhiannon is a cool girl. And seeing her response to being on our show gives me hope—like maybe there’s more going on with On the Runway than I ever realized.
Later the same afternoon, we attend another designer’s show. And although this guy is an amazing designer, I keep mentally comparing him to Rhiannon and, well, it’s like comparing apples and stardust.
Then on Tuesday we see Kate Spade’s show and afterward we meet Helen for dinner. She tells us that she’s seen footage from last week and that she’s feeling very hopeful. “You girls were right to make this an extended trip in New York. It’s going to be worth the extra expense.”
We all go to the Perry Ellis show on Wednesday afternoon and then to Badgley Mischka on Thursday morning. The final show for Paige and me is Miu Miu on Friday afternoon—and I think if I never see another fashion show, it will be too soon.
Chapter 16
“How are you holding up?” Blake asks me over the phone on Saturday afternoon. Paige and I have finally made it to the FIT museum, which has turned out to be rather interesting. We’re both particularly intrigued with the sixties and seventies section. I’m not even sure why.
“I’m doing okay now,” I tell him as I take a sip of coffee. Paige and I are taking a little break and checking our phones.
“So were the fashion shows pretty great?”
“I guess so. But you know me, a little bit of fashion goes a long way.” Then I tell him about our interview with Rhiannon.
“And she’s only twenty?”
“Yes. But she seems a lot older. I think it’s because she’s kind of been taking care of herself—she must’ve grown up fast. But she’s friends with Taylor Mitchell and she’s going to join our little slumber party tonight.”
“It’s tonight?”
“Yeah—we decided to change it so that both Rhiannon and DJ could be there. I guess it’s kind of a Carter House reunion, except two of the girls aren’t coming. One goes to Harvard and the other one lives in California.”
“So you and Paige are their replacements?” He chuckles. “And you will get all this on film, right? I know I’d like to see it.”
“That’s pretty much the idea, and it should be interesting. But we told the camera guys they can only stay until midnight. And then we’ll regroup with just Taylor and Eliza on Tuesday for a slice of the model life in New York City.”
“And then back home on Wednesday?”
“That’s the plan.”
“So…you’ll be home for Valentine’s Day.”
I consider this. “Yeah, that’s about a week away, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
So now I’m wondering, what’s going on? Why did he bring this up?
“I thought maybe you’d want to do something…something with me.”
“You mean like a date?”
“I know…you don’t want to get serious.”
I
don’t say anything. I’m not really sure what to say. And I’m not really sure how I feel either. The truth is I think it might be fun to go out with Blake again—on a real date. But at the same time, I’m not sure.
“Let me guess,” he says, “you’re trying to think of a way to let me down gently. Right?”
“No…not at all.”
“Really?”
“I was just thinking. That’s all.”
“Thinking?”
“I don’t know. I mean, going on a date doesn’t have to mean we’re serious, does it? Can’t a date just be a date?”
“Yeah, sure. Why not?”
“If we understand this up front…I don’t see why we couldn’t go out.”
“On Valentine’s Day?” He sounds skeptical.
“Well, as long as you don’t try to turn it into some big romantic thing.”
“So, what do you think? Wanna go bowling?”
I laugh. “Well, it doesn’t have to be that unromantic.”
“Maybe I think bowling is romantic.”
“Fine,” I say. “Let’s go bowling.”
“How about we just keep that on the options list.”
“Sounds good.”
“Well, you girls have fun at your slumber party. I wouldn’t mind being a fly on that wall—all these gorgeous girls sitting around in their pajamas talking about…hey, what will you talk about?”
“Since Paige will probably take charge, and since almost everyone there is into fashion big-time, I’ll let you guess.”
“Poor Erin.”
“Nah, I’ll be okay.” Then I tell him about how Taylor and DJ are Christians. “And I have a feeling Rhiannon might be too. I don’t know about Eliza though. She’s a little hard to read, but I get the impression this girl is from money. Especially since her parents are footing the bill on the apartment, which sounds pretty swanky.”
“Sounds interesting to me.”
We wind down the conversation and, after I hang up, I think maybe it does sound interesting. But by the time I drop my phone in my bag, Paige is getting worried. She insists we need to head back to the hotel and get ourselves ready for the big slumber party.
“It’s just a slumber party,” I say as we ride back in the town car. “What’s there to get ready for?”
Paige presses her lips together like she’s thinking. “I guess I mean mentally ready.”
“Mentally ready for a slumber party?”
“Well, you know the cameras will be running.”
“Right.”
“And I’ll be expected to keep the conversation interesting. And, well, I remember from when I was younger how it can get at a slumber party.”
“What do you mean?” I’m trying to remember, but mostly what I can recall is just a lot of talking, eating junk food, watching weird movies, laughing, and staying up too late. I don’t see the big deal.
“You know how girls can be at a slumber party.”
“You mean like in middle school?”
She shrugs, but I have a feeling there’s something she’s not telling me.
“What?” I persist. “Did something happen to you at a slumber party?”
She shrugs again.
“What happened, Paige?”
“Well, it was a long time ago.”
“Tell me.”
She frowns. “It’s not important.” But I urge her and finally she pours it out. “I’m not sure if it was premeditated or if it just happened, but it was McKenzie’s fourteenth birthday and for some reason she decided to target me. She kept kind of jabbing at me, making fun of my outfit, making fun of how I was into fashion, making fun of everything…and since it was her birthday and her party…well, the other girls…even my best friend Kelsey joined in. I finally just left.”
“Was that the time you had Mom pick you up in the middle of the night?”
“Yeah.” She nods sadly. “I couldn’t take it. They just got meaner and meaner. It was really brutal.”
“I thought it was because you were having cramps.”
“That’s what I told Mom. No way was I going to admit to her that I’d been the girl that everyone had turned on. It was so pathetic. But I guess it still hurts.”
“I can understand.”
So, a couple hours later, when we’re going up in the elevator to Taylor and Eliza’s fifteenth-floor apartment, I try to be as upbeat and positive as I can. And I assure Paige that middle-school mean girls are a thing of the past. Of course, even as I say this, I’m recalling another mean-girl incident—and it had nothing to do with middle school, but instead the cast members of Malibu Beach.
As expected our camera crew is already there and JJ is set up to film us as we emerge from the elevator with our overnight bags. Then we are mic’ed and Paige makes a smooth transition into what we’re doing tonight and who we expect to see.
“Just girls visiting with girls,” she says lightly. “Letting our hair down after a long eight days of Fashion Week.” Then she rings the doorbell and within seconds, Taylor warmly welcomes us into their beautiful apartment, where the rest of the crew is already set up and rolling. Taylor explains that DJ is picking up Rhiannon and that they should be here in about an hour. “And I know it sounds juvenile, but I ordered pizza. I hope that’s okay.”
“A model who eats pizza?” I ask.
Taylor laughs. “Yes. Eliza wasn’t too happy with that decision. She’s been on a pretty strict diet lately.”
“Where is Eliza?” Paige asks.
Taylor nods toward a partially closed door. “Primping, of course.”
“I am not primping,” Eliza calls back.
Taylor gets us sodas, and is giving us a quick tour of the plush apartment when Eliza finally makes her entrance. I have to agree with Taylor, I think she was primping. Her makeup is perfect. Her hair is perfect. Although she has on warm-ups, they too are perfect—pale blue and about the same color as her eyes. In fact, I think Paige might have the exact same ones.
“I was just getting comfortable,” Eliza says as she grabs herself a diet soda then gracefully arranges herself on the sectional—as if she’s striking a pose for a leisure wear ad. Or maybe it’s a jewelry ad, because she’s wearing diamonds. I can tell she’s aware of the cameras, and I suspect JJ and Alistair can tell too.
“This is a beautiful apartment,” Paige tells Eliza as she sits in a chair adjacent from her, crossing one long blue-jeaned leg over the other and showing off her new pair of Prada boots.
“Thank you.” Eliza makes a blasé look. “But it’s my mother’s decorator who should take the credit. Lamar is a magician when it comes to making small spaces seem larger.”
“This seems like a fairly big apartment.” Paige observes. “For Manhattan anyway. And I’m guessing most models don’t have digs quite this posh.”
“The successful ones do,” Eliza says in a slightly arrogant tone.
“So, is that how you’d describe your career?”
Eliza’s smile stiffens. “Oh, I don’t know.”
“How about you, Taylor?” Paige turns her attention to Taylor as she sits down next to her roommate. “How would you describe your career so far?”
“Interesting…challenging…fun.” Taylor picks up a copy of Vogue and starts to flip through it.
“What’s your favorite part about modeling?” Paige asks her.
Taylor considers this. “Maybe the go-sees.”
“Go sees?” I echo.
She nods. “That’s when your agency gives you a call, saying that someone—you know, a designer or a photographer working on a print ad—wants you to stop by so they can check you out and go over your portfolio. It’s called a go-see.”
“As in go see if they like you,” Eliza adds.
“And then it’s a callback if they do,” Taylor tells me.
“How about you, Eliza?” Paige asks. “Are go-sees your favorite part too?”
“No way.” Eliza shakes her head firmly.
“Why not?”
“Too stressful.”
Paige turns back to Taylor. “So why do you like go-sees?”
Taylor’s dark eyes seem to spark at this question. And I think it’s no wonder she’s such a sought-after model. “It’s like a challenge, you know? Kind of like taking a test so you can prove that you’re good at something. I think it’s fun to walk in cold and suddenly you have to win these people over. Kind of like a game. If DJ were here—she’s into sports—I think she’d get it. It’s like a contest and you want to win. Does that make sense?”
Paige nods with enthusiasm. “Absolutely. In fact, that’s exactly how I feel when I walk into an interview situation. I have no idea how it’s going to go down, but I can’t wait to get started. It is kind of like a game too.”
“I get that,” I tell them. “It’s kind of like that for me when I’m trying to get a good shot on my camera. It’s exciting.”
“Like it stirs up your passion,” Taylor continues. “It energizes you and you want to do your best.”
“How about you, Eliza?” Paige tries again to include her. “What is it about modeling that feels like that to you?”
Eliza frowns as if she’s trying to think of something, and then she just slowly shakes her head. “I’m not really sure.”
“But you do like modeling?” Paige tries.
“I love it.”
“So what about it do you love?”
“I guess it’s the actual doing. You know, striding down the runway. Or if it’s for print, posing for the camera. I love to be the center of attention.”
Taylor laughs. “That’s the truth.”
“Well, so do you,” Eliza shoots back.
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. But it’s more than just that.”
“Which do you like better?” Paige continues. “Runway or print?”
“Both,” Taylor admits.
Eliza nods. “Yes. I like both too.”
Paige continues to quiz these two girls about the modeling life and Eliza seems to relax a little, as if she’s forgetting the camera crew is there.
And then DJ and Rhiannon arrive with the pizzas and the place gets much livelier—and crowded. Paige continues to keep the conversation fashion-oriented, and the banter and chat is animated and fun. But after an hour or so, Paige suggests that the camera crew might want to call it a night.
Catwalk Page 13
