Fashion Academy (6 page)

“Hold on! Let me get this straight,” JC shouted at Mickey over the phone. “Jadezilla is your new BFF?”

Mickey had called him immediately after school to give a recap of how her fellow FABers had reacted to her makeover.

“Well, she wants to take me shopping Saturday. I'm not sure what I'm going to tell my mom. She was counting on me to come home for the weekend.”

“Just because Jade snaps her fingers doesn't mean you have to come running,” he replied.

“I can't turn her down. She'll hate me all over again,” Mickey reminded him.

JC sighed. “You're right. The show must go on. Call your mom and tell her you have a group project to work on and you can't get away. She'll understand.”

“This is all your fault, you know,” Mickey said. “It was your idea to make me fit in at FAB. Now Jade wants me to take her to Finnish Fashion Week!”

JC chuckled. “What can I say? I'm just too good for my own good.”

• • •

Once she convinced her mom that she needed to stay in the city—and swore she'd make it up to her next weekend—Mickey made plans to meet up with Jade and her mother's personal assistant Saturday morning. She was about to put on a pair of purple Dr. Martens and some paisley leggings with a black mesh sweater when she remembered what JC had told her: “Less is more.” So instead, she chose a simple pair of jeans, a white tank, and a black pleather cropped jacket. She had to hunt in the back of her closet to actually find a pair of sneakers that matched, but finally located two black Converse.

“That's an interesting jacket,” Jade said, feeling the sleeve as Mickey climbed into her limo. “Is it Prada?”

Mickey thought quickly. “No. It's a Finnish designer you've probably never heard of.”

“Try me,” Jade challenged her. “I know everything about couture. Right, Tinsley?”

The young assistant nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, of course, Miss Lee.”

Mickey felt bad for the young woman. She couldn't think of a worse job than having to babysit Jade on a weekend.

“So what vintage store are we hitting?” Mickey tried to change the subject. “I'm sure you know all the best ones.”

Jade grinned. “Of course I do. I thought we'd go to Retro Rags.”

They piled out of the car, and Jade handed Tinsley her tote bag to carry.

“You still didn't tell me who designed your jacket,” Jade reminded Mickey. “Friends shouldn't have any secrets.”

“Um, his name is…” Mickey looked around the crowded downtown streets, trying to think of something, anything that Jade wouldn't instantly see through as a lie. Her eyes landed on a coffee and doughnut truck parked on the corner.

“Donutto. His name is Otto Donutto,” she improvised.

“Oh, of course!” Jade fibbed. “I've heard of him. He's mega famous in fashion circles. I think my mom had dinner with him a few months ago.”

Mickey breathed a sigh of relief. “Yeah, he's big.”

“You think you could get him to send me some of his pieces?” Jade asked, putting an arm around Mickey. “Pretty please? They're so unique.”

Mickey chuckled to herself. She wasn't about to tell Jade that she'd gotten the jacket on sale at Wanamaker's for sixteen dollars. “I'll see what I can do.”

When they walked into Retro Rags on West Broadway, Jade made a beeline for the racks of couture dresses.

“Do you see what I see?” she asked Mickey, pulling out a lavender cashmere halter-top dress.

Mickey knew it at first glance. “Halston from the seventies,” she said. “It's amazing.”

“It's mine!” Jade said, yanking it off the hanger and practically hurling it at Tinsley. “Put this on Mommy's charge.”

Mickey caught a glimpse of the nine-hundred-and-fifty- dollar price tag and gasped.

“I know. It's a steal, don't ya think?” Jade asked. She piled another three dresses on the frazzled assistant: a Chanel pink knit, a navy Alaïa, and a black Versace safety-pin mini that the store clerk swore Lady Gaga had worn.

“Do you see anything you like for your Apparel Arts project?” Jade asked her.

There was
plenty
that Mickey liked in the store—hundreds of stunning looks that dated back as far as the 1920s. But there was nothing on those racks that she could afford.

“We can't go over twenty dollars for our budget.” She remembered Mr. Kaye's warning. “So I don't think any of these will work.”

Suddenly, she spied a collection of vintage rock T-shirts hanging over the counter. One looked familiar.

“Can I see that?” Mickey asked the store clerk, pointing to a black one with a gold compass design on it. It read “The Pioneers.”

“That is so ugly,” Jade sniffed. “Who ever heard of that band anyway?”

“I have,” Mickey said, tracing the logo with her fingertips. “How much is it?”

“For you? Five bucks,” the clerk replied. “No one's ever come in here asking for a Pioneers tour shirt.”

Mickey smiled and handed him the money.

It may not have been a designer label with a thousand-dollar price tag, but to her it was priceless.

When it came to design challenge number two, Mickey wanted to make sure that this time her design didn't stink like sour cabbage again. So she called JC and asked him over to toss around some ideas. She laid out the rock tee on her kitchen table and studied it from every angle.

“So what are you going to do with it?” JC asked her. “I mean, it's a pretty boring shirt.”

“It's not boring. It's very rare,” Mickey defended her choice. “It's my dad's band.”

“Oh,” JC said softly. “Sorry. I didn't know.”

“It's okay,” Mickey said. She wasn't going to allow herself to get all sentimental over it. But she did think it had great potential for her project. She whipped out her sketchbook and began to draw. “I'm thinking of cutting the shirt down into a V-neck and replacing the cap sleeves with bat wings…”

JC watched as her pencil whipped across the page in a series of bold, black strokes. “What are you thinking for the bottom?”

“Definitely long. Maybe fringe? Maybe a train?”

“A train would be really dramatic and cutting edge,” JC agreed with her. “What are you going to use for the fabric?”

Since she'd already spent five dollars on the shirt, that left a mere fifteen dollars for the maxi skirt and long sleeves—not to mention the studs she'd drawn in at the waist. “The compass and logo on the shirt is yellow. Maybe a yellow dupioni silk? Something with a bit of a sheen that would pop?”

“That fabric isn't cheap,” JC pointed out. “I think you might have to reconsider.”

Just then, Aunt Olive came into the kitchen.

“I couldn't help overhearing,” she said. “I'm trained to hear the mating call of the yellow-bellied sapsucker a mile away. I know exactly where you can get that fabric for free.”

“You do? Where?” Mickey asked excitedly.

“The curtains in your bedroom. You said you didn't like them anyway. I guess it's okay if you want to cut them up if it's for your homework.”

“Oh, Aunt Olive! They would be perfect. Are you sure you don't mind?” She threw her arms around her aunt and hugged her.

“It's fine. It's fine,” Olive squirmed. “I figure if you're brave enough to make some changes, I can too. What do you think of repainting your bedroom orange?”

• • •

When presentation day arrived, Mickey carried her dress to FAB in a simple black garment bag.

“Is that it? Is that your design?” South whispered when she spotted her in the hallway. “Did your dad help you with it?”

“No!” Mickey insisted. “I did it myself.” Then she remembered who she was supposed to be. “But I always think to myself, ‘What would Daddy do?'”

South nodded. “That's really cool.”

“What did you make?” Mars asked as she followed Mickey up the stairs to class. “Mine is so boring. I bet yours is something really special.”

“I guess,” Mickey replied. “I mean, I worked really hard on it.”

In the studio, she carefully pinned her dress to her dress form and checked that there were no crooked seams or dropped stitches. She looked around the room at the pieces her classmates had made. Mars had reshaped a seventies wrap dress into a simple crop top that tied at the waist and fashioned matching hot pants from the rest of the material. South's design was a denim mini made out of an old pair of jeans, and Gabriel had morphed a pair of men's khaki pants (“borrowed” from his dad's closet!) into a military-style jacket with epaulets on the shoulders.

When Mr. Kaye came to her dress form, he pushed his glasses to the tip of his nose and stared. “I'm speechless,” he said.

Mickey held her breath. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing till Gabriel gave her a thumbs-up.

“The workmanship is flawless,” her teacher continued as he circled around her design. “Extremely avant-garde. I'm reminded of early Alexander McQueen! I've never seen anything like it in any of my classes. I'm eager to hear what your inspiration was.”

“It all started with the Pioneers logo,” Mickey explained. “It really spoke to me. This was a small band that traveled all over the country in the nineties trying to make a name for themselves. I wanted my dress to reflect movement, so I split the skirt into three pieces—and the yellow color just felt bright, optimistic, and hopeful. Like the band's lead singer, who really believed he could change the face of music.”

Mr. Kaye nodded. “It sounds like you did a great deal of research. Excellent work, Kenzie.”

• • •

Mickey couldn't wait to find JC in the cafeteria and tell him the news.

“What was the verdict?” he asked as she raced over to his table.

“He loved it. He gave me a four plus.”

“Are you kidding me?” JC gasped. “No one gets a four plus in Kaye's class. I doubt even Bridget Lee herself would get a four plus. Mickey, you did it!”

Mickey felt like she was walking on air. Nothing could bring her down, not even Jade strolling over to their table.

“I hear FAB has a new fashion star.” She smiled sweetly. “Congrats, Kenzie.”

“Um, thanks,” Mickey said. “That's really nice of you, Jade.”

“Of course it is!” Jade smiled brightly.

“I guess FAB has a new fashion diva, and it's not La Lee,” JC teased her.

The smile vanished from Jade's face. “What do you mean?”

“I just mean that Mickey is giving you a run for your money,” he replied. “I wouldn't be surprised if she won Runway Showdown this semester.”

Jade gritted her teeth. “I'm going to win Showdown,” she said.

“Ya think?” JC mocked her. “I wouldn't be too sure about that.”

Jade turned to Mickey. “Let's be clear: there's only room for one design diva here, and that's me. You got lucky this time—thanks to me taking you shopping. You're welcome!”

She turned on her wedge heel and strutted back to her table of minions.

“She's delusional,” JC said. Then he noticed Mickey's worried look. “You okay?”

Mickey shook off Jade's nasty dig and tried to remind herself that she
had
won this fashion challenge all by herself and wowed her teacher. Her design was great, and no one could take that away from her.

“I'm more than okay,” she said. “I'm just getting started.”

“Earth to Mickey? Come in, Mickey!” her mom said, waving a plate of chocolate chip waffles under her nose. She placed a tall glass of chocolate milk next to it. “It's not like you to let your favorite breakfast get cold.”

Mickey sighed. “Sorry, Mom. I was just thinking.”

Her mother pulled up a chair at the kitchen table next to her. “Okay. Spill. What's bugging you?”

Mickey didn't know where to begin. When she came home this weekend to Philly, all she could think about was her Apparel Arts final challenge. Mr. Kaye was going to reveal the theme on Monday, and she'd have only a month to design and construct it.

“I just really want to show everyone I belong at FAB,” she said quietly.

“Of course you belong!” her mother insisted. “You've been getting straight As in all of your classes. I couldn't be prouder!”

Mickey nodded. When she told her mom about the four plus on her fashion design, she left out the part about her masquerading as “Kenzie Wills” to win everyone over. What would her mom say if she knew that she was lying every day?

“I know what would cheer you up! Let's hit the flea market,” her mom said, sipping her coffee.

Mickey nodded. “I could use a few new outfits for school,” she said. “Maybe some cashmere sweaters…”

Her mom nearly spit out her coffee. “Cashmere sweaters? Since when do you like cashmere sweaters? Your taste has certainly changed since you started at that school. What happened to the girl who made her own patchwork pants out of some old tablecloths?”

“I'm just trying to fit in,” Mickey insisted. “You should see how Jade dresses! Everything has a designer label.”

Her mom looked concerned. “You never used to care what other people wore,” she reminded her. “Don't you always tell me, ‘I gotta be me'?”

Mickey wished she knew where that girl had gone. The only time she could truly be herself was when she designed for class. As long as she looked and acted like Kenzie Wills, no one laughed or made fun of her when she turned an old rock T-shirt into a couture gown. Kenzie could do anything! Mickey, on the other hand, was a walking fashion disaster.

“I'm still me,” she said, taking a bite of waffle. “I just want to save the creativity for my designs.”

“Fine,” her mom said. “As long as you don't let Jade or anyone else change you.” She wiped a smudge of chocolate off Mickey's mouth with a napkin. “I love you just the way you are.”

• • •

Back at school on Monday, Mickey shifted nervously in her seat as Mr. Kaye took a stack of papers out of his briefcase. “This is your last challenge,” he said. “Give it one hundred and ten percent—your grade is depending on it. The top students in each of the three grades will present collections at the Runway Showdown.”

Mickey read the sheet carefully:

Style should be as simple as A-B-C. Use these three letters to inspire an alphabetical outfit!

Mars's hand went up immediately. “I don't get it. Are we supposed to use letters in our design?”

“You could,” Mr. Kaye replied. “It's open to interpretation.”

Mickey's mind began racing. What could she use that started with those three letters?

Mr. Kaye wrote the number twenty on the SMART Board. “This is your budget,” he said. “No more than twenty dollars, and I want to see receipts this time, Miss East.”

South blushed. “Okay, maybe I did spend an itsy-bitsy bit more on the yard of vicuña for the last challenge…”

“Stick to your budget and stick to your voice as a designer,” Mr. Kaye warned. “Wow me!”