Lights, Camera, Fashion!

by Chloe Taylor

  Dances definitely should never have been invented.

  “I’m thinking about calling Rashida Clarke and telling her I can’t do it,” Zoey told her friends when they were all seated at the lunch table.

  Priti stared at her, sandwich halfway to her mouth. “Can’t be a guest judge on Fashion Showdown? Are you feeling okay?”

  “Zoey, why?” Libby asked. “You’ve always wanted to visit New York. And it’s Fashion Showdown!”

  “You’ve got to do it,” Priti demanded. “I want to know the inside scoop!”

  Only Kate was silent. She’d known Zoey the longest—they’d grown up together, and she knew Zoey wouldn’t consider such a thing unless she was really upset about something.

  “What’s on your mind, Zo?” Kate asked.

  Zoey explained about Gabe and how she hadn’t even realized he’d asked her to the dance. “And now I’m pretty sure I’ve hurt his feelings because I’m not going, and even though I explained about the show, I’m not sure he believed me. Do you blame him? I’m not sure I’d believe me.”

  “Okay, so you hurt Gabe’s feelings. I get that part,” Libby said. “But still . . . it’s Fashion Showdown.”

  “I know.” Zoey sighed. “I guess maybe I’m so confused from trying to be both Designer Zoey from Sew Zoey and just plain old Zoey from Mapleton Prep. Maybe I should just try to be a normal middle-school girl for a change and do what normal middle-school girls do, like go to the dance with her friends.”

  Her friends exchanged glances and then, to her surprise, they burst out laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” Zoey demanded.

  “Being ‘a normal middle-school girl,’ ” Libby said, using her fingers for air quotes. “I mean, who even knows what that is? You? Kate? Priti? Me? Or maybe Ivy, Shannon, or Bree?”

  “But—” Zoey started to protest.

  “And another thing, Zoey—there will be other dances,” Priti pointed out. “But who knows if you’ll ever get another chance to be a guest judge on Fashion Showdown?”

  “She’s right,” Kate said. “Remember last year? Everyone just stood around because they were too nervous to ask anyone to dance.”

  “It’s true. It was kind of boring,” Priti admitted. “We had more fun at the sleepover afterward.”

  “Yeah,” Zoey agreed. “The dance was kind of lame. But this year we’re older. It’ll be different. And we’ve got one another for dates.”

  “We can take a bunch of pictures for you,” Libby suggested. “That way you’ll feel like you were there with us.”

  Zoey hesitated, still torn between wanting to be with her friends and living her dream.

  “Zoey, if you don’t do Fashion Showdown, don’t you think you’ll always wonder ‘what if?’ ” Kate asked.

  Zoey realized her friends were right. There would be other dances. But she might never get another opportunity to be a guest judge on Fashion Showdown.

  “Okay, I’m going to New York,” she said. “But you have to promise to take tons of pictures, okay? And tell me everything!”

  “We will,” Priti promised.

  “And you have to tell us everything about being on Fashion Showdown,” Libby said.

  “I will,” Zoey said with a grin. “All the juicy details.”

  After school, Zoey headed to Marcus’s room to see if he could give her a ride to A Stitch in Time.

  “Sure—just give me a few minutes to finish up this problem,” he said, not looking up from his homework.

  While she was waiting for Marcus, Zoey experimented with sketches for her idea. She wanted to make the same thing for all her friends, but have each one match her friends’ dresses and personalities.

  “So what’s today’s fashion emergency?” Marcus asked on the way to the store.

  Zoey explained how she’d been thinking of bailing on Fashion Showdown and how her awesome friends made her realize she had to go.

  “Whoa! I’m glad the crew talked you out of it,” Marcus said. “You love this stuff, Zo. You light up the minute you start talking dresses and design with Aunt Lulu. It’s like music for me—or sports for Dad.”

  “I know. . . . Anyway, I want to make something special for Priti, Libby, and Kate. I’ve got an idea and I’m hoping Jan can help me with it.”

  “Well, here we are,” Marcus said, pulling into a parking space. “I’m going to get coffee at Roast. Meet me there when you’re done.”

  “Hi, Zoey!” Jan greeted her from behind the big counter in the middle of the store. “What brings you here today?”

  “I have an idea for a special present I want to make for my friends,” Zoey said. “For the dance—although it out I’m probably not going to be able to go to it after all.”

  “Oh no!” Jan exclaimed. “After you bought all that beautiful velvet . . . What a shame.”

  “The Fashion Showdown taping doesn’t finish till late in the afternoon, so our train won’t get back in time for the dance,” Zoey explained. “I thought about not doing it, but my friends talked me out of that.”

  “Your friends helped you make a good decision,” Jan said. “Carpe diem.”

  “Carpe what?”

  “It’s Latin. It means ‘Seize the day.’ ”

  “So it’s like another way to say YOLO?”

  Jan laughed. “What’s that stand for again? ‘You Only Live Once’? I suppose it’s the same idea, yes.” She settled her reading glasses on the end of her nose. “Okay, show me what you’ve got in mind for this special present.”

  Zoey opened her sketchbook and showed Jan the rough sketches she’d drawn.

  “Ooh! Pretty!” Jan said. “They’re going to be a little fiddly—especially this one.” She pointed to the design for Libby. “But I’ve got an idea to help you make them a little easier.”

  She took out a pencil and wrote some notes in the sketchbook for each design, explaining to Zoey how to put each one together.

  “Thanks!” Zoey said. “I want these to be really special so my friends know how much they mean to me.”

  “I think they’ll feel very special in these—like royalty, in fact. Let’s go find what you need.”

  Jan came out from behind the counter, and together, she and Zoey chose wire, ribbon, and a selection of beads, rhinestones, and silk flowers.

  “You know,” Jan said, “it might save time to get some headbands. I don’t sell them here, though. You’ll have to go to the pharmacy next door.”

  “That’s okay,” Zoey said. “I have time, since I’m meeting my brother at Roast whenever I’m done, anyway.”

  Jan rang up her purchases and put them into a bag. “I hope you plan to blog while you’re in New York. It looks like I’m never going to get my chance in the spotlight, so I want to experience the excitement of being on TV through your posts.”

  “Oh, I’m going to! All my Sew Zoey readers—not to mention my friends—will kill me if I don’t!”

  Jan came around the counter and gave Zoey a hug, along with her bag of supplies. “Have a wonderful time, my dear. Enjoy every single minute.”

  “I will!” Zoey said. “And you’ll be able to read all about it on Sew Zoey!”

  After buying the headbands, Zoey met Marcus at Roast and they drove home. She couldn’t wait to get started creating the presents for her friends.

  “Hey, Zo, can you get the mail?” Marcus asked when he pulled into the garage. “I forgot to get it when I came home from school.”

  Zoey walked to the mailbox. Along with the mail, there was a small package addressed to her school address, postmarked from New York City. On the front, there was a note from Ms. Austen, the school principal.

  Dear Zoey,

  This arrived at school late in the day. It looks like it’s from Fashionsista, so I’m dropping it off at your house in case it’s something you can use on your trip.

  Break a leg, sweetie!

  Ms. Austen

  Dumping her A Stitch in Time bag and the rest of the mail on the
kitchen table, Zoey opened the package. Inside was a tube of clear, expensive designer lip gloss and a card.

  Dear Zoey,

  Here’s some lucky lip gloss for your television debut. I wear the same kind whenever I’m on TV, and it seems to bring me luck. Hope it helps you shine like the star you are! : )

  Xoxo,

  Fashionsista

  Fashionsista’s on TV? Zoey thought, more curious than ever about the identity of her fashion fairy godmother. Wow! Zoey hugged the card, relieved she hadn’t let down Fashionsista by backing out of the show. Not only would she go on Fashion Showdown, she was determined to make Fashionsista, Jan, and her family, friends, and Sew Zoey readers proud. She decided to save the lucky lip gloss for the big day. She would need all the luck she could get!

  But first she had special gifts to make for Libby, Priti, and Kate to wear to the dance. The rest of the week passed in a blur. Between school and gift-making and packing, she almost didn’t have time to freak out! Almost.

  - - - - Chapter 7 - - - -

  New York, New York!

  TODAY is THE DAY! This afternoon, I leave for THE BIG APPLE! I’m embarrassed to tell you how many times I’ve packed and repacked my suitcase. Okay, I’ll tell you. TWELVE TIMES. I can’t figure out which outfits to bring for Fashion Showdown. Rashida Clarke said to bring a few different choices so the wardrobe consultant can tell me what will look best on TV. I thought I had great clothes, but when it came time to pack, I seriously felt like I had NOTHING TO WEAR. Do you know the feeling?

  A big hug and a THANK-YOU to Fashionsista for the lucky lip gloss and the vote of confidence. I hope they let me wear it for the show. It’ll make me feel like I’ve got my Sew Zoey team with me when I’m on camera.

  I still feel sad about missing the dance. But I’m soooo excited about the surprise gifts I’ve made for Priti, Libby, and Kate! Aunt Lulu and I are going to drop these off at their houses on the way to the train station so they’ll have them for the dance. I made them promise not to look at today’s post. . . . No peeking, girls!

  So, here are the final sketches of their gifts. I made them tiara-crown things out of headbands, wire, flowers, and beads to match each of their dresses! Priti’s has lots of beads and rhinestones because she loves—and lives—to sparkle. Kate’s is more simple, because, well, that’s her thing. I thought the daisies would look pretty with her dress. And Libby’s has pearls with pink lacy ribbon to match her birthday-cake dress. I’m thinking of the tiaras as hair jewelry to go with their dresses. . . . I really hope they feel like princesses! Get it? I’m sew lucky to have them as BFFs!

  Well, got to go do my last-minute packing (and check my suitcase one last time!). Sew long for now!

  Zoey watched from the train window as the landscape changed from suburban to urban.

  “I can’t believe we’re really on our way to New York City!” she told her aunt Lulu.

  “Are you ready for Lulu and Zoey’s Big Adventure?” Lulu asked. She reached into her tote bag and pulled out a handful of fashion magazines. “I’ve got some reading material to get you in the mood.”

  Zoey looked through the stack. Vogue, W, Elle, Très Chic—all her favorites. “I want to read them all. But I have to finish The Misfits, because we have a test next week.”

  She rummaged in her backpack and found her copy of the book. When she looked up, Lulu’s eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

  “What’s the matter?” Zoey asked, alarmed.

  “Nothing, sweetie. I was just thinking how proud Melissa would be. I wish she could be here to see what an amazing kid you’ve become.”

  Zoey had to swallow to speak. “I wish Mom could be here too,” she said. “But since she isn’t, I’m glad you are.”

  Lulu gave her a hug, and Zoey breathed in the comforting scent of the fragrance her aunt always wore.

  “I’m honored to accompany you,” Lulu said. She leaned back in her seat, got a tissue from her purse and wiped the mascara carefully from under her eyes. “We’re going to have a blast in the Big City, you and me, Zo.”

  Lulu picked up Vogue. “Go on, finish your reading, and I’ll give you some magazines.”

  Zoey finished The Misfits halfway through the train ride and closed the book with a satisfied sigh.

  “That was such a good book. I wonder . . . if maybe, someday, I’ll ever be as brave as Bobby.”

  “I haven’t read it. Tell me about it,” Lulu said. “Who is Bobby, and what makes him so brave?”

  “He’s the Misfit who tells the story. And he’s brave because he speaks up against the people who call him and his friends names.”

  Lulu sighed. “Middle school is tough. There was one girl at my school; I’ll never forget her. Marcy Lindeman, who seemed to think it was her life’s mission to make me miserable.”

  “I know what you mean,” Zoey muttered.

  Lulu looked at her intently. “Has someone been giving my Zoey grief?”

  The last thing Zoey wanted to be was a tattletale. She worried that if she told Lulu about Ivy, Lulu would tell her dad, he’d go to Ms. Austen, and things would just get even worse.

  “You know . . . kids say stuff,” she said, shrugging. “But that’s just how it is.”

  “Just because that’s how it is, doesn’t mean it’s how it should be,” Lulu said. “And it doesn’t mean you should take anyone giving you a hard time.”

  “I know,” Zoey said. “But it’s not like you can do a whole lot about it. I mean, in The Misfits they did, but that’s fiction. It’s . . . different in real life.”

  “No niece of mine is going to get pushed around without a fight, Miss Zoey,” Lulu said, her lips set firm with determination.

  It was just what Zoey was afraid of. Lulu was ready to go on the warpath. Next thing she knew, her dad would be on the phone to Ms. Austen.

  “It’s not that bad, really,” Zoey said. “It’s just this one girl.”

  “All it takes is one,” Lulu explained. “Marcy Lindeman had enough mean in one pinkie finger to terrorize the entire seventh grade.”

  “I know, but really, I’m fine. Just don’t tell Dad, okay?”

  Lulu studied Zoey, looking deep into her eyes. “Okay, Zo. I won’t say anything to your dad—for now. But on one condition.”

  “What’s that?” Zoey asked.

  “You promise that you’ll come straight to me if this person gets out of line. Deal?”

  “Deal,” Zoey said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Now can you please pass me Très Chic?”

  When the train pulled into Penn Station, Zoey followed Lulu along the platform into a huge cavernous space. It was overwhelming; so many people moving in different directions, all of them looking as if they knew where they were going, which Zoey certainly didn’t.

  “Come on, Zo, this way. Our driver’s meeting us in front of 2 Penn Plaza.”

  They walked out of the station’s entrance and onto the noisy street, where a few black sedans waited by the curb. One had a white sign with MISS Z. WEBBER in the window. When they walked up to it, a man in a dark suit and chauffeur’s cap got out.

  “Miss Zoey Webber?” the man asked Lulu.

  She laughed. “No, that’s my niece. I’m her aunt, Lulu Price, along for the ride.”

  “I see. Good afternoon, Miss Webber.” The man smiled at Zoey. “My name is Winston, and I’ll be your driver while you’re in New York. Can I take your bag for you?”

  Her driver? Zoey couldn’t wait to get into the car so she could text Priti, Libby, and Kate.

  Winston opened the door to the backseat to let them in before walking around to the driver’s seat.

  “Straight to the hotel, ladies?”

  Zoey wanted to see the Statue of Liberty, the Empire State Building, and Times Square.

  But Lulu said, “Yes, please.”

  She turned to Zoey. “We can check into the hotel, get settled, and then go do some window-shopping and find somewhere nice for dinner. How does that sound?”

/>   “Fun—especially the window-shopping,” Zoey said.

  Lulu grinned. “It’s pretty exciting, isn’t it?”

  Zoey nodded.

  “So you ladies here for Fashion Showdown?” Winston asked. “If you don’t mind me saying, you look kind of young to be a contestant, Miss Webber.”

  “She’s not a contestant,” Lulu said proudly. “My niece is a guest judge.”

  Zoey could see the surprise on Winston’s face in the rearview mirror.

  “You’re a judge? Young girl like you? Wow!” Winston said. “I’ve driven a lot of judges, but you’re definitely the youngest.”

  “Really? Who have you driven?” Zoey asked.

  “Let’s see now . . . Daphne Shaw, for one.”

  Zoey almost bounced off her seat with excitement. “Daphne Shaw! What is she like? Is she as beautiful in real life?”

  “Yes, she is, Miss Zoey. Tall, too.”

  “I have to text my friends to tell them that I’m in the same car Daphne Shaw was in!” Zoey said, whipping out her cell phone.

  Eventually, Winston pulled up in front of the hotel, a small modern boutique establishment in the heart of Chelsea.

  “Here we go, ladies,” he said. He got out and held the back door open for them before getting their bags out of the trunk. “I’ll be picking you up tomorrow, bright and early at six thirty, to take you to the studio.”

  Zoey groaned a little at how early she’d have to be up, but she remembered to thank Winston for driving them. She and Lulu walked into the hotel lobby, which had white marble floors and ultramodern furniture. It was like something out of one of Lulu’s interior design magazines. She snapped a picture and then texted it to her friends.

  Their hotel room was even more amazing. Two queen-size beds with plump white duvets and fluffy pillows, a flat-screen TV, a glass-topped desk with a huge bouquet of flowers, and—

  “Look, Aunt Lulu!” Zoey cried. “A gift basket!”