The hairs on Louise’s arms stood up. This scene reminded her of the creepy dream she had the other night before her time-traveling adventure, in which the group of women in the woods dressed her up in the beautiful blue gown and destroyed her old clothes. It was as if she had experienced Marie Antoinette’s scary and uncertain journey from her childhood in Austria to her future life in France. She kept reading.
ON MAY 16, 1770, MARIE ANTOINETTE AND LOUIS XVI WERE MARRIED IN AN ELABORATE CEREMONY AT THE CHAPEL OF VERSAILLES, OFFICIALLY MAKING HER THE DAUPHINE OF FRANCE. FOUR YEARS AFTER THEIR WEDDING, KING LOUIS XV UNEXPECTEDLY DIED OF SMALLPOX, MAKING LOUIS XVI THE REIGNING KING, AND THEREFORE, MARIE ANTOINETTE, AT THE YOUNG AGE OF NINETEEN, BECAME THE QUEEN OF FRANCE AND NAVARRE. AT THE BEGINNING OF THEIR REIGN, THE FRENCH PEOPLE FELL IN LOVE WITH HER BEAUTY, ELEGANCE, STYLE, AND YOUTH, BUT BEFORE LONG, THE TIDE OF PUBLIC OPINION CHANGED DRAMATICALLY. SOON, HER EXTRAVAGANT LIFESTYLE AND COPIOUS CONSUMPTION WERE MOCKED, AND SHE WAS RUMORED TO BE AN AUSTRIAN SPY AND TRAITOR.
MARIE ANTOINETTE ALSO HAD TO DEAL WITH HER OVERBEARING AND CRUEL MOTHER, WHO WAS FREQUENTLY WRITING HER LONG, CRITICIZING LETTERS FROM AUSTRIA, AIDED WITH SECRET INFORMATION SHE RECEIVED FROM AN AUSTRIAN DIPLOMAT, COMTE DE MERCY-ARGENTEAU, WHO WAS KEEPING A CLOSE EYE ON THE QUEEN. THESE STRESSES FROM HER MOTHER AND THE FRENCH PEOPLE, AS WELL AS THE LACK OF SUPPORT AND CONNECTION SHE HAD WITH HER HUSBAND, LOUIS XVI, WERE BELIEVED TO HAVE LED MARIE ANTOINETTE TO SPEND EVEN MORE MONEY ON HER TRUE PASSIONS: CLOTHING, HAIRSTYLES, SHOES, MAKEUP, GAMBLING, AND ENTERTAINMENT.
That would explain the biting letters from her mother that upset Marie Antoinette so much. Apparently there actually was someone spying on her, though it wasn’t Adelaide! But whatever happened to Adelaide?
PRINCESS MARIE ADELAIDE OF FRANCE WAS THE FAVORITE DAUGHTER OF KING LOUIS XV. SHE WAS EXCEPTIONALLY INTELLIGENT, MUSICALLY GIFTED, AND AN ACCOMPLISHED EQUESTRIAN. HOWEVER, SHE WAS ALSO EXTREMELY PROUD AND FELT AS THOUGH SHE SHOULD NOT MARRY ANYONE BELOW HER ROYAL SOCIAL STANDING. AS A RESULT, SHE NEVER MARRIED AT ALL. ON OCT. 6, 1789, PRINCESS ADELAIDE AND HER FAMILY WERE FORCED TO FLEE AFTER VERSAILLES WAS ATTACKED. SHE LIVED THE REMAINDER OF HER LIFE IN EXILE AND DIED OF NATURAL CAUSES AT THE AGE OF SIXTY-SEVEN, THE LAST SURVIVOR OF HER PARENTS AND SIBLINGS.
Louise couldn’t help but smile. She didn’t know Stella that well, but this woman sounded like she definitely matched her in the spirited-attitude department. Then her mind switched gears, as she knew she needed to keep reading what she was already aware of even if it was hard. She typed in “Marie Antoinette, French Revolution, guillotine.”
THE ROYAL FAMILY WAS ARRESTED FOLLOWING A FAILED ATTEMPT TO ESCAPE PARIS, AND MARIE ANTOINETTE WAS IMPRISONED AND PUT ON TRIAL FOR CRIMES AGAINST THE STATE. HER GUILTY FATE WAS ALL BUT ASSURED, AND THE TRIAL ITSELF WAS A MERE FORMALITY. SHE HAD NO CHANCE OF PROVING HER INNOCENCE. ON OCT. 16, 1793, THE ALMOST UNRECOGNIZABLE QUEEN WAS PARADED THROUGH THE STREETS OF PARIS, HER HAIR SHORN, WEARING AN UNADORNED ANGELIC WHITE DRESS. AT THIRTY-SEVEN YEARS OLD, SHE WAS LED TO THE GUILLOTINE AND KILLED IN FRONT OF AN ANGRY MOB OF PEOPLE.
Louise knew that the revolution was necessary and that the people could not live under the horrific poverty anymore, but she still couldn’t get out of her head the image of a laughing teenage girl trying on dresses and playing with her puppy. She wished things could have been different, but it was impossible. She next searched for Gabrielle de Polignac to find if a similar fate befell the queen’s trusted companion. After the adventure she just had, this information felt a lot more personal.
THE BEAUTIFUL YOLANDE MARTINE GABRIELLE DE POLASTRON, DUCHESSE DE POLIGNAC, WAS PART OF THE QUEEN’S INNERMOST CIRCLE AND MARIE ANTOINETTE’S CLOSEST COMPANION. SHE LIVED IN AN APARTMENT AT THE PALACE OF VERSAILLES FOR FOURTEEN YEARS. MUCH TO HER DESPAIR, THE DUCHESSE DE POLIGNAC WAS ORDERED FOR HER OWN PROTECTION TO LEAVE THE SIDE OF MARIE ANTOINETTE AND GO INTO HIDING WITH HER FAMILY IN SWITZERLAND AFTER THE STORMING OF THE BASTILLE ON JULY 14, 1789. GABRIELLE NEVER RECOVERED FROM THIS SEPARATION, AND SHE FELL INTO A DEEP DEPRESSION, SICK WITH WORRY OVER THE FATE OF HER BEST FRIEND. ONCE SHE HEARD THE DEVASTATING NEWS OF MARIE ANTOINETTE’S DEATH, HER ALREADY FRAGILE HEALTH DETERIORATED, AND SHE HERSELF DIED SOON AFTER. IT WAS REPORTED THAT SHE DIED OF A BROKEN HEART.
Louise stifled a sob. Seventh-grade history books were written in such factual terms, and she was now starting to see the human side of things. How would she have handled Marie Antoinette’s responsibilities at fourteen years old? She’d like to think she’d be more understanding and empathetic than the dauphine, but really, who knew, when you were torn from your family and all that is familiar at such a young age? Then to be forced to marry a strange man you had never even met before, all while someone was constantly there with a new dress or a freshly baked madeleine to distract you from what was really happening outside the gilded palace gates…
Louise was beginning to accept that maybe she couldn’t control what happened hundreds of years ago, but she could try to make up for her own recent behavior in this century. She opened the drawer of her bedside table, compelled to say sorry to her parents for being angry when they told her they couldn’t afford to send her on the school trip because her dad had lost his job. Her monogrammed stationery was tucked underneath the sketchbook she kept in the nightstand, and her eyes widened when she saw the last drawing she had made the other morning. The robin’s egg blue dress she had dreamed about was sketched out in simple colored pencil on the top page, and it looked almost exactly like the one she had tried on in the store and was now hanging in her walk-in closet. The same one that had whisked her away to Versailles.
From under the sketchbook, Louise pulled out an invitation for the next Fashionista Sale, which Glenda must have cleverly tucked into the bindle with her blue dress when she wasn’t looking. Louise unfolded the thick piece of yellow paper.
There was a smaller, folded sheet of pale lemon-colored parchment tucked inside the thick envelope, stamped with the iconic bloodred seal, that she reread with a renewed excitement.
Dearest Louise,
What you and your fellow Fashionistas share is very special. We have picked every one of you because you have an understanding of fashion, of history, and, most important, of the inextricable connection between the two. You have your friends, you have your family, and soon you will have your fellow Fashionistas. We hope you continue to learn from the past, embrace the present, and dress each day as though you have a date with destiny. Because, darling, as you should know better than anyone, you never know where the day will take you….
Kiss kiss,
Marla and Glenda
Louise smiled, realizing she was now officially part of a special group of like-minded Fashionistas. In a way, it was exactly what she had always hoped for, and she couldn’t wait to meet the other girls who were also on this fabulously adventurous path with her. She hastily slammed the drawer and headed downstairs to apologize to her parents in person.
CHAPTER 35
The following Saturday night, Louise walked into Brooke’s thirteenth birthday party with the practiced air of an actress or aristocrat who was used to making a sweeping grand entrance. She felt like she was starting to carry a little bit of her past experiences with her. After attending a ten-course dinner on the Titanic and a formal gala at the palace of Versailles, somehow a festive night at the Pattersons didn’t seem quite as intimidating. She was still a little nervous in anticipation of seeing Todd again, but in a good, excited way.
Earlier that afternoon, Louise and Brooke had decorated the basement with silver streamers and hanging cardboard stars covered in aluminum foil. A silver disco ball Brooke’s parents had rented now spun from the ceiling, its mirrors casting a million little sparkly reflections around the dimly lit rec room. Playing in the background was the party playlist they’d made on Brooke’s iPhone, mostly fun dance music but with a few slow songs thrown in there.
Louise had decided against wearing the magnificent blue dress, as the thought of sque
ezing her swimmer shoulders back into that formfitting gown was infinitely less appealing. She didn’t want to be fainting into the punch bowl, and Brooke had made it clear that by fancy-dress theme, she didn’t mean eighteenth-century costume party. Together they’d picked out a less dramatic but still pretty pale lavender fitted, A-line lace dress, and Louise had half pulled back her flatironed hair, which was fairly frizz-free for now, as long as no one sweated on her. She had spritzed herself with her mom’s Chanel No. 5; the sophisticated, floral French perfume was her only secret little reminder of the adventure she had just come from.
Todd was hanging out with a group of guys by the Ping-Pong table, his navy-and-white-striped tie loosely knotted around his untucked blue polo shirt, his baggy khaki pants still barely staying up around his plaid boxers. The skater version of fancy dress. He was talking to his best friend, Matt Waters, but waved at Louise and smiled, seeming to be genuinely happy to see her. It looked as though he was trying to say something to her across the room just as someone turned up the Strokes on the Bose speakers.
“What?” Louise mouthed. She was about to walk over to them when Brooke stopped her, grabbing her arm from behind. Brooke looked gorgeous, donning a BCBG gold-sequined cocktail dress and matching-but-not-too-matchy strappy gold shoes. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a high ponytail. Thanks to her MAC bronzer, she literally glowed.
“I want to introduce you to my cousin!” she exclaimed, grabbing her by the hand. “Louise, meet Peter. His family just moved here from Boston.” Louise looked up and felt a flighty sensation. Something about this guy’s wavy brown hair and defined cheekbones was eerily familiar. “I thought you two would get along.” Brooke pointed at his charcoal gray three-piece suit and jokingly pulled out an old-fashioned watch from his vest pocket. “Do they even make these anymore?” she asked, shaking her head.
“I don’t think so,” he replied, quickly tucking the tarnished watch away. “It’s just something I’ve picked up on my travels.”
“Hi,” Louise stuttered, immediately forgetting her newfound confidence. She nervously twirled a wisp of flatironed hair around her index finger. “That watch is awesome. I love antiques.”
“Believe me, I told him already,” Brooke interjected. “You guys will have a lot of stuff to talk about. Old stuff. Peter’s going to be in eighth grade at Fairview. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to chat.”
“Yeah, I start classes on Monday, so it’s cool that I get to meet some people before,” he said, looking at Louise intently with his green-flecked, coffee brown eyes. “It’s hard to drop in somewhere and have to figure out everything for yourself.”
“Come on, I want to introduce you to a few more peeps,” Brooke ordered.
“All the best people, I’m sure, knowing my cousin.” Peter jokingly slung his arm around Brooke and grinned at Louise over his shoulder, revealing a dimple in his left cheek.
“I guess I’ll see you there,” she said, her knees slightly shaking as they walked away. Peter had the exact same cute dimpled smile as her eighteenth-century French gardener crush, Pierre. Was this real?
“See me where?” Louise spun around, startled to see Todd standing behind her with a goofy smile on his face and carrying two red plastic cups.
“Nowhere.” Louise blushed, embarrassed.
“That’s too bad,” he said jokingly. “Lemonade?” Todd offered her one of the cups.
“Sure, thanks,” she accepted, taking a large gulp. She happily noted that Tiff was nowhere in sight.
“Hey, I’ve been wanting to talk to you. I think I’ve figured out a way for you to come to Paris. I can bring a huge suitcase, poke airholes…”
Louise laughed. “It’s okay. I’m sure I’ll get there at some point. Besides, I’m pretty happy to stay home for a bit. I feel like I haven’t been around in a while.”
“Just sayin’. Or we could go out for french fries one night. Same difference, right?” He gave her a playful punch on the arm before heading back to the table for another round of Ping-Pong.
“Thanks for the offer…” she trailed off, wondering if that was Todd’s mumbled way of asking her on an actual date. Left standing alone with her cup of lemonade, Louise searched the crowded room for Peter, but he must have already left? She guessed she’d have to wait until Monday to see exactly how much they really did have in common. Something nervously told her it might be a lot.
CHAPTER 36
Louise couldn’t sleep. Her potential french-fry date with Todd was overshadowed by the weird feeling of déjà vu she experienced after meeting Brooke’s cousin Peter. She also still couldn’t shake the horrific images of Marie Antoinette and the royal family that she had read about while researching on her computer.
She climbed out of bed and snuck into her closet, not wanting to wake her parents—her mother was an extremely light sleeper. Her hands went for the fastest and easiest connection to her childhood comfort zone; she tugged her mother’s battered steamer trunk, with its UK flag sticker still plastered over the left side, out of the corner, making a loud scraping sound on the hardwood floor. Louise held her breath, but the house was still and quiet as she noiselessly opened the heavy lid. She pulled out her most-loved Barbie, which was wrapped discreetly in white tissue paper and dressed in a pale pink frilly ball gown. It had a short blonde punk-rock haircut, courtesy of Louise going overboard with her mother’s gardening shears. Punk Rock Barbie was unfortunately missing one pink plastic shoe. She reached deeper in the trunk to find the lost high heel and instead brushed her hand on something cold and metal beneath some thin, crumply paper.
Louise carefully pulled out a long, tarnished gold chain and sharply sucked in her breath. The charm suspended from the thick links was an oval-framed picture of a black poodle. It was the same charm that Marla and Glenda both wore! Why was this necklace hidden in her mother’s old luggage?
She began yanking out the Malibu Barbies, Kens, tissue paper, Barbie tennis rackets, until everything was in a pile next to her. The bottom of the trunk was lined with a piece of brown butcher paper that seemed to be tearing at the seams. Her mother would undoubtedly kill her, but Louise ripped off the lining, utterly convinced she would find something—she wasn’t sure what—on the other side. She sighed, disappointed to discover it was just the inside of a bare case, but then her finger glossed over a small black-and-white photograph of her mother stuck to the back of the brown paper.
A teenage Mrs. Lambert was dressed in a long, old-fashioned white dress layered with scalloped lace trim and carrying a parasol. She was smiling at the camera, and around her neck was most definitely the poodle necklace Louise now had in her hands. But her mother would never wear a dress like that! She couldn’t stand it whenever Louise bought anything vintage. Louise squinted at the image. It looked as though a horse-drawn carriage was coming down the street in the background of the faded photograph. Didn’t they have cars long before her mother was growing up?
“Louise, what are you doing awake at this hour? What was that noise?” Louise was startled by the sound of her mother’s concerned voice calling from outside her bedroom door.
Her mind flashed back to Versailles when Stella asked her, “Isn’t it in your family, too?”
Then her stomach dropped. There was a reason she was chosen after all. Stella was right. It was in her blood. The decision was probably made long before her first thrift-store purchase. Louise was destined to be a Fashionista. And she was about to find out exactly what that meant.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to Cindy Eagan and her fabulous and brilliant team at Poppy, particularly Alison Impey, Pam Gruber, Lisa Moraleda, Mara Lander, and Christine Ma for working all their behind-the-scenes magic. Eternal thanks to my agent, Elisabeth Weed, and the lovely Stephanie Sun at Weed Literary. Unending gratitude to my parents for never missing a swim meet or book signing. It means the world to me. Thank you to Olatz Schnabel for providing me with the most inspiring writer’s room I could have hoped for, a
nd Gill Connon for sharing her passion and technical expertise of vintage fashion so generously with me. Big thank you to Adele Josovitz for being my first reader and unofficial regional school publicist. Thank you to Topaz Adizes for his support, encouragement, and magical book trailer. Thanks to Lucinda Blumenfeld for her tireless, creative work on this book and Justin Troust at Second Sight for creating an amazing website, www.timetravelingfashionista.com, where all the Fashionistas can connect. Special thanks to David Swanson, a great friend and an exceptional editor. Merci beaucoup to my grandma for being the best research assistant ever—France would not have been nearly as fun or delicious without you!
And thank you most importantly to all the Fashionista fans whose inspiring and encouraging letters and e-mails have kept me writing even when I wanted to go vintage shopping. This book would not exist without you! xoxo
Also by Bianca Turetsky:
The Time-Traveling Fashionista On Board the Titanic
NOT READY TO LEAVE YOUR TIME-TRAVEL ADVENTURE BEHIND?
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Bianca Turetsky
The author and her grandmother just outside the gates of the Palace of Versailles
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Time-traveling Fashionista at the Palace of Marie Antoinette (9780316202961) Page 13