Bonjour Shanghai

by Isabelle Laflèche

  Walking past the majestic Gucci store on Fifth Avenue, I notice photos in the window of Gucci’s year of the dog collection, a light-hearted collaboration with a renowned artist inspired by Chinese astrology. I read in a magazine that the two Boston terriers whose likenesses are emblazoned on the collection’s bags, sneakers, jackets, and cardigans are the beloved pets of Gucci’s creative director. The style is playful, with pops of bright red, pink, and purple, floral skirts, and big, baggy cardigans, but in my humble opinion, the bags painted with dogs’ faces look a little DIY.

  Jake thinks it’s a lazy and over-the-top marketing ploy to appeal to the Chinese market. I wonder if the fact that his application for an internship at Gucci was turned down has anything to do with his opinions. But in any case, I think he’s right.

  I recently came across another label’s year of the dog–inspired shirt that was covered in horrific-looking poodles, as well as a gold makeup compact encrusted with diamonds in the shape of a dog produced by one of the largest cosmetics companies in the world. Same idea, same questionable taste.

  It’s surprising how these brands have little to no understanding of what appeals to Chinese consumers of high-end fashion. Why don’t they conduct better cultural research, or hire local designers? The dog theme that so many jumped on that year was such a vague connection to the Chinese market that it felt patronizing and out of touch.

  Also, the use of girly, sweet-looking Asian models in the campaign photos is pretty stereotypical. I would have preferred to see someone like Chris Lee, the singer who rose to fame after winning the Chinese singing contest Super Girl — think American Idol meets The Voice, but on a much grander scale. Her look is androgynous and cutting edge.

  One of the male models reminds me of my new Instagram friend, Henry. I wonder what he thinks of this collection? And what would Jonathan think of it? Would he think it’s kitschy? I’ll have to ask him about it when he resurfaces from whatever’s going on with him.

  I take some pictures on my phone of the satin bomber jacket in the window. Chinese astrology–inspired fashion would be a great subject for a Bonjour Girl article. That would make for out-of-the-box reading material, no?

  Despite the questionable dog collection, Gucci’s gorgeous store windows and the beautiful clothes inside restore my faith in my chosen path. I’m grateful to have the chance to study under some of the greatest fashion minds on the planet and alongside some of the best new talents. I shouldn’t question my teachers’ suggestions. They have far more experience than I do. They surely know best.

  I need to be dog loyal to my mentors, and to my friends. No wallowing in insecurity or doubt. Jonathan and Jake are two of the city’s most adorable creatures and more than worthy of my attention and admiration, but they sure aren’t making things easy for me.

  The New-York Historical Society was founded in 1804 as New York’s first museum and has terrific exhibits about the city and American history. The building is magnificent, a gem overlooking Central Park. I’m glad I got here early, so I can take a good look around and be thoroughly prepared. Standing in this elegant, storied building transports me to another era. I guess it’s only fitting, since we’ll be talking about a different era, namely Imperial Russia.

  The museum’s restaurant, Storica, is a bright, spacious room with cheery yellow banquettes and big gold chandeliers, reminding me of the gold tiara worn by the female lead in Anastasia.

  Michelle Wong will be the first major public figure I interview for Bonjour Girl. I order some chai and biscotti while I mentally rehearse the questions I’ve prepared. Of course, I want to know about her creative process and about Anastasia, but what I’m most interested in is how she started out, how she came to design costumes for opera, dance, and theatre, and how she worked her way to the top, eventually winning a Tony and other prestigious awards. I’m also curious to learn what challenges and disappointments she’s faced, and how she overcame them.

  I’ve gone all out for this special interview: I’m wearing a vintage tea dress with giant red roses on it, along with a black patent leather belt and matching Mary Janes. It’s a dress Maddie and I found at the local flea market in Brooklyn. My small cross-body bag has the tarot symbol of the wheel of fortune on its front. I hope it brings me good vibes — I sure could use some right now; I’m feeling nervous.

  But the text I get from Jake lifts my spirits.

  Good luck with the interview! Not that you need luck. Just be your fabulous self and knock her socks off. Mwah, big hugs, XOXO

  I look up from my chai to see Michelle Wong walking in. I can tell just from her demeanor that she’s a dynamo. She’s petite and confident looking in a beautiful blue silk circle skirt and jacket and light-yellow sweater underneath. She’s elegant with a no-nonsense sensibility.

  “Hello, Clementine,” she says, graciously shaking my hand and taking her seat. “So sorry I’m a bit late. I had a meeting downtown and got stuck on the train.” I’m amazed that she crossed Manhattan at rush hour to meet me. This gives me a major confidence boost.

  “No worries at all, I understand. I’ve just been enjoying this divine museum. It’s a great meeting place. Thank you for suggesting it.”

  Michelle orders some tea for herself, then I pull out my notebook and begin asking away. The truth is that I’m so passionate about this stuff that I really don’t need any notes. I’m just following my heart.

  “So, that red dress Anya wears in the finale! Can we talk about that?” I ask. I’m talking about a show-stopping crimson gown worn by the female lead in Anastasia. I could barely contain myself, looking at it during the show. “I almost cried when I saw her in it.” I must have stars in my eyes right now. “And my date did, too.”

  She smiles. “You’re not the only one. The actress wept the first time she tried it on.”

  “I bet she did. Red makes such a bold statement. Especially with all those jewels.”

  “The red, of course, is very Russian,” Michelle says, “and the decoration on the front of her bodice is reminiscent of the imperial family’s crest.”

  I scribble notes furiously. “And that amazing silhouette?”

  “The silhouette just came from my imagination. The skirt is more of a 1950s silhouette. Just like the dress you’re wearing,” she says approvingly. The fact that she noticed my dress makes me giddy. I’m so happy I made the effort.

  “Yes, I love all the different influences. What was your design process?” I ask, as the server brings more tea.

  “For this show, I turned to paintings and photographs, including the photos Tsar Nicholas II took of his own family. I also looked through museum catalogues. Once I finish my research, I start sketching. Each sketch takes about an hour to draw and paint.”

  “And the fabrics?” I know this is the type of information Jake would want to know. He’s obsessed with fabrics and he’d kill me if I didn’t ask.

  “I prefer to pick fabrics for the entire show at once — I never design one gown on its own — so I require thousands of swatches to choose from. It’s quite a process.”

  “Wow, I wish I could be a fly on your wall and watch you pick all those swatches!”

  “Oh no, you don’t. It gets pretty messy.”

  My own writing process can get messy at times, too. I’ll cut out inspiring articles from magazines and place them randomly over the floor in my room; then I’ll have all kinds of ideas buzzing around in my head until everything comes together on the page.

  By the time I’ve finished my biscotti and the last dregs of my tea, we’ve finally come to the questions I’ve been dying to ask since she got here.

  “So how did you do it? How did you get to where you are today?”

  “There’s no secret formula, Clementine. I did it thanks to tons and tons of hard work. I’ve worked on over five hundred shows, large and small, and not always the most glamorous. But no matter what I was doing, I showed up with the same work ethic, always.”

  “Any major challenges
you’d like to share? Any particular blunders?”

  “Oh god, way too many to talk about! I’ve seen it all. I’ve been on the verge of creative catastrophe many times, like the time my costumes were delivered to the wrong theatre, so they arrived late, or the time a lead actor couldn’t fit into his costume after gaining some weight. I’ll just say that there’s a solution to every problem, Clementine, no matter what it is. There’s nothing you can’t overcome, no matter how dramatic or painful. I’m speaking from experience.” She finishes her tea in one gulp.

  This is the kind of advice I love to share with my readers and, more importantly, with myself. I can tell that she’s had to work hard to get where she is and to fight her way to the top.

  “Has it been challenging, as a woman, to establish yourself in the industry?”

  Michelle stares into her empty cup for a moment, then looks up. Her eyes meet mine. “There have been ups and downs. People who have treated me with respect and people who have made things difficult for me, whether consciously or not,” she says carefully. “Sometimes being a woman means that you constantly have to prove yourself to your superiors, even where other colleagues don’t have to, and even though it isn’t fair. But, if you’re passionate about what you do and good at it, Clementine, no one can touch you. Being a strong, determined woman is a good thing.”

  “I read online about the ballet you worked on that toured through China. I’m actually leaving soon for an exchange program in Shanghai. Do you have any recommendations for me?”

  “If you like theatre, you might want to check out a Beijing opera at the Yifu Theatre.”

  “Cool, I’ll make sure to check it out.”

  “The theatre’s quite romantic, a great place for a date,” she says with a smirk. I blush, thinking of Henry. Why can’t I stop thinking about him?

  “Thank you for sharing all of this with me, Michelle. This was an immense honour.”

  “Don’t mention it. It was a pleasure. Good luck in Shanghai. I’m sure you’ll have a blast!” She gives me a playful grin. She’s genuine, keen, and endearing — the kind of woman who belongs on Bonjour Girl.

  As soon as I get home after class, I change into some comfy lounge pants and a baggy T-shirt and brew myself a pot of jasmine tea. I’m grateful to have the apartment to myself. The place is quiet — ideal conditions to write a kick-ass blog post. I light a scented candle, inhale its refreshing aroma, and begin typing away.

  All through class this afternoon, I was replaying my conversation with Michelle. Her advice and her get-it-done mentality really gave me the boost I needed.

  I type up the article, sharing some of Michelle’s inspirational advice. With permission, I add pictures of some of the gorgeous dresses and impressive jewels she designed for Anastasia, names of stores in New York where she sources her fabrics, along with links (mostly as a hot tip for Jake, but also as a tentative step toward Brian’s suggestion), and a list of her favourite designers (also linking to their online stores). I also share a selfie of me and Michelle we took at the museum.

  I’ve got the Anastasia soundtrack playing on my computer to provide me with positive energy as I write. Thanks to the music and to Michelle’s wise words, I’m excited to press publish.

  Once I’ve shared my post, I check my phone.

  I have a new message on Instagram. It’s from Henry.

  Hey, Clementine, thought you’d like this. It’s from a cool designer in Shanghai. It’s 100 percent recycled fabric.

  It’s a picture of a jean jacket that’s been dyed and adorned with patches of moons and stars.

  Yes, thanks! I love it! So unique!

  Like you!

  My fingers freeze. I don’t know how to respond. It takes me a minute to figure out a comeback that won’t sound flirtatious.

  Thanks! I do my best but it’s not always easy. Sometimes people try to steer me in different directions that aren’t totally me …

  Really? Who? And more importantly, why?

  Not sure. One of my teachers told me I need to think outside the box — expand my horizons in my blog

  You already do! What about all those interviews of teens with disabilities and life challenges last semester? I mean that’s totally unique … You are one of a kind! Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise, okay?

  Thanks for the pep talk, Henry. It’s coming at the right time. And thank you for supporting my blog!

  My pleasure! I was going to type “that’s what friends are for” but I don’t want to be too presumptuous …

  We can be friends, I’d like that … Thanks for your support, friend

  I’d like that too

  TTYL!

  Chapter Eight

  I WAKE UP THE NEXT morning to an email from Michelle Wong that makes my heart flutter. She read my blog post after I tagged her on social media last night, and she shared the interview immediately with all her friends.

  What a terrific article, Clementine. I’m impressed with your writing, and I love the playful tone of your article, too. Keep up the great work and have fun in Shanghai!

  I jump out of bed and forward Michelle’s message to Jake. Within seconds, he texts:

  Way to go Clem! You rock! Off to read the interview. Talk to you later, you BADASS babe.

  I take a look at my blog traffic on Google Analytics — it’s through the roof. I have hundreds of retweets, thanks to my own readers and Michelle’s friends. I sigh with relief. My post may not have been that out of the box, according to Jake’s standards, but my readers seem to appreciate it, and that’s what matters most.

  Ecstatic, I jump in the shower and wash my hair with my organic rose shampoo, and by the time I get out, I’m flying, light as a hummingbird. I’m super grateful for Brian and Jake’s feedback, but the truth is, I’m free to write about whomever and whatever I want. While I’m towelling myself off, I finally get a text from Jonathan asking if I want to get together for coffee tomorrow. I sigh with relief again. So far, this is a really good day.

  My elation continues during the train ride to school, as I glue my eyes to my phone, watching for more views and mentions. There are lots more — but I remind myself that I’m not doing this for the attention. If my content inspires my readers, then I’m happy. One thing’s for sure: Michelle inspired me, and for that I’m grateful.

  As soon as I arrive at Parsons, I head down to the school cafeteria, looking for Jake at our usual meeting spot. When I don’t see him, I take a seat in the corner with a cup of tea. As I bask in the glory of Michelle’s compliment about my blog post, I notice a few students looking at me, some smiling or nodding. I guess Michelle’s inspiring message has reached them, too.

  I’m soaking in all the feel-good energy when Brian walks over with a big smile.

  “Hey, Clementine! Way to go with the blog!” he says, holding his morning coffee. “It’s a great start to branching out! Keep up the great work, okay?”

  “Thanks, Brian, that means a lot. And thanks for your support.”

  After Brian leaves, I see James Williams paying for his breakfast. He’s the dean of the school, as well as my cousin Maddie’s boyfriend. He waves at me and comes over. It looks like I’m on a roll.

  “Hey, Clementine, great job on the interview,” James says loudly. To my surprise, he leans over and offers his hand for me to shake, which I do. “Maddie forwarded it to me this morning. This is why we selected you to go to Shanghai.”

  “Oh, thank you, James. I appreciate the feedback.”

  I’m not sure it was a good idea for James to say this publicly. I know he means that my writing was the reason they nominated me for the exchange program, but I’m worried people might think I was favoured because of our personal connection. I’m really sensitive to this stuff, especially after what happened last semester.

  “One day, you’ll be covering fashion for the New York Times, I’m sure of it!” As he walks away, I notice some students at a nearby table staring at me. This sends shivers down my spine.


  And just like that, all of my joy comes crashing down. Last semester, Stella unfairly accused me of receiving privileges because of my relation to Maddie. Even though the school dealt with her, I’m still worried and self-conscious about whether others believe that I don’t deserve to be here. Will this awful feeling ever go away?

  But what would Michelle Wong advise me to do? Probably to lift my head high and ignore my imagined detractors. My blog post was popular with my readers, two faculty members liked it, and Michelle herself appreciated it. Her words gave my self-esteem a serious boost.

  But the truth is, I’m still feeling a bit unsteady inside.

  Between classes, I spot Jake in one of the hallways, leaning against a wall and texting. He’s looking sharp in a grey blazer and Mello Yello vintage T-shirt accessorized with eyeglasses made from a repurposed vinyl record. He got them as a gift. They’re from a brand called Vinylize. It totally works on him; he looks supremely cool.

  I wish I could say the same for myself. I’m sweating just thinking about the way those students stared at me in the café.

  As I approach, Jake throws his phone into his saddlebag as though he doesn’t want me to glimpse who he’s texting. Does this have anything to do with his mysterious exit from the Russian Tea Room and from the school café?

  “Great post, Clem. I really enjoyed it,” he says a bit flatly. Does his tone reflect his true opinion of the blog post, or is it related to the texts he was just looking at? It’s hard to tell.

  “Do you have a minute?” I ask.

  “Sure, babe. What’s up?” Jake asks, looking concerned. “Is it about Jonathan?”

  I shake my head. “No … although I am worried about him. He’s really stressed out but still hasn’t told me what the deal is.”

  “So what’s going on?”

  I take a deep breath and exhale slowly, looking around to make sure no one’s listening.