“I’m not sure that’s a compliment,” Robin grumbled.
“I’m not sure it’s a compliment to be on the cover,” Annie replied. “But while all of you have been working, I’ve been looking at the last ten years’ intern issues. And seven out of the ten girls they picked for the covers had Robin’s coloring and facial structure.”
“I didn’t know that,” Robin said.
“Research,” Annie declared.
“Well, one thing is sure,” Torey said. “One of us is bound to be right.”
The girls sat on the bathroom floor and laughed. And when Robin realized she was laughing the hardest of them all, she only laughed harder still.
12
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Robin announced as the girls sat in the office that Image had turned into makeover headquarters.
“I know I am,” Annie said. “I can’t believe we’re subjecting ourselves to this.”
“What’s with you guys?” Ashley asked. “This is the fun part. New hairdos, new makeup, fashionable clothes to wear. For one golden day, we’re the models.”
“This is not my idea of golden,” Annie replied. “This is my idea of being treated like a piece of meat.”
“How do you feel about all this, Torey?” Robin asked.
Torey shrugged her shoulders. “I can think of things I’d rather be doing,” she said. “But when you’re invited to somebody’s party …”
“… you play by their rules,” the girls recited.
“Exactly,” Torey said. “So we might as well relax and let them have a good time.”
“I’m going to throw up all over them,” Robin said. “I just know it.”
“That’ll make a real cute cover,” Ashley said. “How often have they used puking on the cover, Annie?”
“They’ve done some covers that make you want to puke,” Annie replied. “Does that count?”
“All right, girls,” Jean said, walking into the room. She was surrounded by Image’s hair, fashion, and makeup editors, as well as two hairstylists, and a makeup artist.
“Why do we always do this here?” the hair editor asked. “It would be so much easier to do this outside the magazine.”
“You say that every year,” Jean pointed out. “Mrs. Brundege likes it done at the magazine. She likes everybody to see the girls when the makeovers are finished, but before the photographs are taken. And there’s no arguing with Mrs. Brundege, as we all well know.”
“Big mistake,” the editor replied, but the argument was already over. The first hairstylist to enter walked over to Robin and Torey, who were sitting next to each other. The other one approached Ashley and Annie.
Robin closed her eyes and prayed she wouldn’t throw up. She then prayed she would disappear on the spot. Finally she prayed that she hadn’t turned hideously ugly since the last time she’d looked at herself in the mirror.
“Not bad,” her stylist said. “How do your two look, Rick?”
“I’ve seen worse, Jason,” Rick replied. “There are possibilities here.”
“Here too,” Jason said, holding Torey’s head up by her chin and checking it over.
“What are you going to do to my hair?” Torey asked nervously.
“I don’t know yet,” Jason said. “What do you want to have done?”
“Maybe you should cut it all off,” Torey suggested. “I could use an easy-to-care-for hairstyle.”
“No,” Jean said. “We don’t want that. We want long hair on one of the girls, to show all the different hairstyles possible with it.”
“Shame,” Jason said. “It would have been fun to give you a really short cut. Your bone structure could carry it. Oh, well. I suppose I could always chop this one’s head off.”
“That’s hair off,” Rick said. “Cut the hair. Leave the head.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Jason said. “What’s your name, dear?”
It took Robin a moment to realize they were talking about her head. “Robin,” she said. “Please don’t cut off my head.”
“I’ll try not to,” Jason replied. “How would you like your hair, Robin?”
Robin tried to remember if Tim had said anything about how he liked her hair. She vaguely remembered him saying that he loved it, once when he was listing everything that was perfect about her. She had the feeling that didn’t commit her to keeping her hair exactly as it was. “Shorter,” she said. “And it waves a lot. A style that goes with the waves.”
“That sounds reasonable,” Jason said. “Any problems with that, Jean?”
“None,” she said. “Now, what can Rick do with Ashley and Annie?”
“Miracles,” Rick replied. “For this one …”
“Annie,” Annie informed him.
“For Annie, some big waves,” he said. “Great hair, but straight just isn’t very interesting. Some bangs too, I think. Soften that forehead.”
“Just don’t soften my brain,” Annie said.
“And for Ashley, something daring, I think,” Rick continued. “You look like the daring type to me.”
“The daringer the better,” Ashley said. “I want to look like I’ve never seen Missouri.”
“I’ll start with Torey,” Jason said. “Since all I’m doing is trimming her a little.”
“And I’ll start with Annie,” Rick said. “It’ll give me more of a chance to decide what daring things I should do with Ashley.”
Robin and Ashley watched as the hairstylists cut the other girls’ freshly washed hair. Robin felt like it took forever, although she knew it didn’t. But everybody was so quiet while the men were working.
When Jason was finished with Torey’s hair, he put it up in a knot, not all that different from the one Annie had created for her. “This is a beautiful girl,” he said, examining his handiwork. “This one is a stunner. Do you know that, Jean?”
“We have some idea,” Jean replied. “Now, what can you do about Robin?”
“I can make her so cute it’ll be frightening,” he replied.
“Perfect,” Jean said. “Go to it.”
Jason took Robin to the dressing room and washed her hair. As they walked back to the makeover room, Robin’s knees shook. Sitting down in the rented barber chair was an immense relief.
Jason started with little snips, and then cut more and more of Robin’s once-shoulder-length hair. Robin hoped Tim had nothing against short-haired girls.
It was fascinating to watch in the mirror as her hair kept falling to the floor. Robin wasn’t all that sure she would recognize herself by the time the haircut was finished.
Jason finished with her about the same time Rick finished with Annie. Robin wasn’t sure which one of them was more transformed.
Instead of Annie’s standard do-nothing hair, there were cascading waves. She had the slightest wisps of bangs that reached almost to her eyebrows. An always-nice-looking girl was now positively lovely.
“Wow,” Robin said in honest appreciation.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” Annie said as Robin examined herself in the mirror.
Annie was right. Robin looked terrific. Jason had blown dry her newly shortened hair so that each wave acted like it belonged there. Robin felt she was the living embodiment of “pretty.”
“Now for Ashley,” Rick said. “Something very deco, I think.”
“Remember your market,” Jean told him.
“The girl is all angles anyway,” Rick said. “There’s no point trying to soften this face.”
“Nothing too daring,” Jean said.
“Trust me,” Rick replied, and took Ashley off for her hair washing.
“Why did you put so much makeup on me?” Torey cried.
Everyone turned to look at her. Robin had been so involved with her own haircut, she hadn’t even realized the makeup artist had started on Torey.
“I didn’t put too much on you,” the woman said.
“I look painted,” Torey said. “I can’t afford this much makeup. What’
s the point of making me over if I can’t afford to stay made-over?”
“You don’t have to stay made-over, Torey,” Jean told her. “As far as we’re concerned, you can take off all the makeup as soon as we’re finished photographing you.”
“But I can’t be the only one of your readers who can’t afford makeup,” Torey said. “So why glop it all over me?”
“I put hardly any on her,” the makeup artist said. “Check it out, Jean.”
“I believe you, Bernadette,” Jean said, but she walked over to Torey anyway. “Torey, she really did leave you practically naked.”
“My face must weigh a pound more than it did before,” Torey said.
“Well, of course you have makeup on,” Jean said. “And probably a little more than usual, because you’ll need it for the camera. But you have beautiful skin and eyes, and all Bernadette has done is put a little eye shadow and foundation on. If you’ll just look at yourself, you’ll realize how beautiful you look.”
“I look cheap,” Torey muttered.
“Hardly,” Ashley said, walking in with her hair wrapped in a towel turban. “You look sensational.”
“It’s the lipstick,” Torey said, touching her lips with her tongue. “Do I have to have so much lipstick?”
“Yes,” Jean said. “Now, keep quiet and behave yourself, Torey. Let Bernadette start working on one of the other girls.”
“Me,” Robin said, wanting to get it over with. Besides, there was always the chance Annie would be difficult too, and Bernadette might quit before she ever got to Robin.
“This one should be fun,” Bernadette said, examining Robin’s face carefully. “You have nice skin, you know that? Very clear.”
“I wash it a lot,” Robin said.
“Not with soap, I hope,” Bernadette said. “Soap is poison for a face. Dries it out worse than the sun. Use a good facial cleanser.”
“I will,” Robin said, marveling that all those years of soap and water on her face hadn’t completely destroyed her skin.
“This one is so cute and wholesome you just want to pinch her cheeks,” Bernadette continued. “That the look you want for her, Jean?”
“That would be perfect,” Jean said. “Not too young, though.”
“Gotcha,” Bernadette said. “Beige foundation,” she announced as she started rubbing it into Robin’s skin. “It’s a good thing they work you too hard to get a suntan,” she declared. “It’s murder to work with a heavy tan. Especially for a winter issue.”
Robin watched as best she could while Bernadette applied a rose-colored blush to her cheeks. In Bernadette’s skillful hands, Robin’s cheekbones became more noticeable, and her skin positively glowed.
“Eyes next,” Bernadette said, and began tweezing Robin’s eyebrows. The girls had all been instructed not to tweeze during their time at Image, so there was a lot that had to go. The tweezing smarted, the way it always did.
“You have nice eyebrows,” Bernadette told her. “They just needed a little shaping.”
Robin felt relieved.
“Violet eyeshadow,” Bernadette announced, putting it on Robin’s eyelids. “It’ll bring out the blue in your eyes.”
Robin had never realized her eyes had any blue in them. She’d always thought of them as dark. But if Bernadette saw blue, then maybe the camera would too. There was nothing wrong with that.
“Some nice navy liner,” Bernadette continued. “And black mascara.” She applied it gently. “There. Now, are you opposed to lipstick also?”
“No,” Robin said. “Lipstick’s fine with me.”
“Excellent,” Bernadette replied. “A nice light rose.” She applied it with a brush and followed the contours of Robin’s lips. “There. That’s it. The cheerleader of our dreams.”
“Let me see,” Jean said, and she and the editors walked over to check out Robin’s new look. “Bernadette, you’re a genius,” she declared. “Robin, you look fabulous.”
Robin stared at herself in the mirror. For one horrible moment, she knew exactly how Torey had felt. She had nothing against makeup, and wore it whenever she didn’t oversleep in the morning, but with so much on, she felt like a painted woman. Still, she wasn’t going to complain, not if Jean thought she looked fabulous.
Annie smiled at her. “You look great,” she said. “Me next, I guess.”
“Why don’t you come with me, Robin,” Donna Grey said. Robin followed the assistant fashion editor to the changing room.
“We wanted something casual for you,” Donna declared. “Don’t worry about your hair, Jason will comb it out again, but do be careful with your face when you put these on.”
Robin wasn’t quite sure how to be careful with her face, other than avoiding rubbing it against the cashmere sweater she was being handed. It was a soft aqua color, and it felt almost as good as her perfect silk blouse.
Donna gave her a pair of dark brown slacks and some aqua knee socks. “Let’s see how all this looks,” she said, so Robin tried them on for her.
“Perfect,” Donna declared. “Jason is so good at what he does. You always were a pretty girl, but now you’re something really special, Robin.”
“Thank you,” Robin said. “Should I wear shoes too?”
“Of course,” Donna replied. “Classic loafers.”
Robin slipped them on. The shoes at least felt familiar. She had a pair just like them at home.
“Let’s see what Mrs. Brundege says,” Donna said, and she and Robin started walking around the Image offices. Wherever they walked, people lined up to check her out. Robin felt like she was dressed in the emperor’s new clothes.
“Very nice,” she heard everyone say. “You look great, Robin. Lovely, Donna. Just the right look.”
Robin made a solemn vow that no matter what the temptation, she would never enter a beauty contest.
“Well, Mrs. Brundege,” Donna said as they reached her office, “what do you think?”
Mrs. Brundege checked Robin over very carefully. “I think she’s a wonder,” she declared. “A girl with brains and beauty, and a fine talent for photography. We’re lucky to have her as one of our interns.”
“Thank you,” Robin gasped. She hadn’t been aware Mrs. Brundege knew she existed.
“So it’s off to the studio?” Donna asked.
“Take her away,” Mrs. Brundege replied.
Donna and Robin walked to the studio together. Even though Herb wouldn’t be taking the pictures, Robin was sure she’d feel at home in the familiar environment.
But it was a strange sensation to be the model and not the photographer, she discoverd as soon as Jason was finished touching up her hair and she was positioned under the burning hot lights. They had just finished up with Torey, and once Robin’s eyes adjusted to the light, she checked to see what Torey was wearing. No white gloves, she realized right away, and no circle pin either. But neither would have been inappropriate. Torey had on a very simple maroon wool dress and a dark gray blazer. She was wearing nylons and moderately high-heeled shoes, and she looked a minimum of twenty-two years old, and exceptionally gorgeous.
Robin didn’t have a chance to be envious. The photographer started giving her detailed instructions on how she should pose, and Robin found herself pretending to be a model, smiling at a make-believe boyfriend, laughing at a nonexistent joke, thinking seriously about a philosophical comment nobody had made. She tilted her head one way and the next, turned to face right, then left, carried books, carried a camera, pretended to take a picture of the man who was taking pictures of her.
When she was finished, she walked over to talk with Torey, and Annie came in for her session. She was also in clothes that were appropriate for school, but her look was softer and prettier than either Torey’s or Robin’s. Annie had on an almost old-fashioned rose-colored dress with a ruffled round collar. The dress flared out slightly at the waist and went to just below her knees. She was also wearing nylons, and low pumps. Robin had never seen her cousin look so femini
ne.
“I feel like Alice in Wonderland,” Annie declared. “This is not me at all.”
“None of us are,” Torey said. “We’re all exaggerated versions of how they think we are.”
“Can you imagine what Ashley’s going to look like, then?” Robin asked.
None of them could. Robin contented herself with watching the photographer take his pictures of Annie. He went through the same routine with her as he had with Robin, but it was still interesting to see. Robin was no longer positive she wanted to be a fashion photographer, but she still was pleased to have another chance to see one at work.
Annie was finished for a full twenty minutes before there was any sign of Ashley. The rumors started way before that, though. They hated Ashley’s haircut. Her makeup wasn’t working. None of the clothes looked right. Mrs. Brundege had fired everybody. The makeover session was over. The whole idea of interns had been thrown out. Image had gone out of business.
When Ashley finally arrived, it was not an anticlimax. Her hair had been bobbed, short and quite severely, in a modern version of the Dutch-boy look. Her eyes had been made up to look twice their usual size, and her face, always thin, seemed gaunt. Her lips were now two bright red slashes.
She was wearing a red sweater dress that ended mid-thigh and was belted loosely at her hips. To complete the outfit, she had on black tights and high-heeled black shoes.
“It’s the Paris tart look,” Ashley declared as she posed under the lights. “Very big in Missouri this time of year.”
“Do you really want to look like that?” Torey asked her.
“Sure,” Ashley said. “Why not?”
Robin could think of several reasons, but she chose not to name them. If Image really was dressing them the way they thought the girls were, it seemed awfully unlikely Ashley was going to end up on the cover.
She turned out to be a great model, though, very relaxed and animated. The photographer had to work a lot less with her than he had with Robin or Annie, or, Robin suspected, Torey. Ashley gave him what he wanted. Robin got the feeling a few of the pictures would come out with Ashley looking like she was dressed up in her big sister’s clothes, an innocent pretending to be sophisticated. Maybe those would be the ones used.
Fantasy Summer Page 12
