Fashion Face-Off

by Sheryl Berk

  “So, Mick.” JC interrupted the merriment. “Helga and I were just chatting, and I told her you’re one of the most original, creative designers at FAB. Show her your stuff.”

  Mickey stood there, frozen and starstruck.

  “Mick,” JC repeated, elbowing her. “Show the judges your stuff. Work with me, here!”

  Mickey nodded and unzipped her garment bag. Jack Rosen’s face lit up. “Are those team jerseys?” he asked.

  Mickey gulped. “Yes, sir.”

  “Remarkable,” Lena gushed. “So editorial. I could easily see this on the pages of Teen Style magazine.”

  “Are you kidding?” Helga said. “I could see it on me—on a red carpet. I love it.”

  “You do?” Mickey asked, still stunned.

  “Absolutely!” Helga replied. “JC, you were right. Definite Assignment: Fashion Jr. material.”

  “Did I tell ya or did I tell ya, Helg?” JC said. “I would never steer you guys wrong.”

  “So we’re agreed?” Jack said, conferring with his fellow judges. Both women nodded.

  “JC and Mickey, welcome to the show!”

  All the way on the walk home from the audition, Mickey tried to process what she’d just witnessed. It hadn’t even begun to sink in that she was about to compete on TV’s top fashion reality show.

  “So Jade didn’t sabotage us?” she asked JC. “She didn’t tell her mom not to whisper in Helga’s ear to kick us out?”

  “If she did, it doesn’t matter,” JC explained. “Helga still runs the show. She’s the executive producer. I one-upped Jade.”

  “And Helga is your new BFF?” Mickey giggled.

  JC shrugged. “Well, we’re close and all—but you’re still my BFF, Mick,” he said. “Let’s just say she comes in a close second.”

  “I’ll take it,” Mickey said. “But this whole thing is surreal.”

  “I know, right?” JC exclaimed. “I was telling Helga how it was my dream to be on Assignment: Fashion, and the next thing I knew, she was quizzing me and cracking up at my jokes.”

  “You’re incredible, JC,” Mickey said. “Only you!”

  “Just because we’re on the show doesn’t mean we’re going to win,” JC reminded her. “I hate to be Debbie Downer here, but there are ten other serious contenders.”

  “But none of them have your encyclopedic knowledge,” Mickey reminded him.

  “Or your creativity,” he replied. “Okay, I take it back. Those other kids should be scared. We’re the real deal.”

  Mickey chuckled. “We are, aren’t we?” she said, linking arms with him as they walked through the crowded Midtown streets.

  JC stopped in his tracks. “Can we just make a promise to each other, Mick?”

  “Sure. Anything.”

  “No matter what happens, no matter how ugly or fierce this competition gets, we’re BFFFs: best fashion friends forever.”

  Mickey held up her pinkie. “I swear it.”

  “Phew, now I feel better,” JC said, and resumed their walk. “Because in season five, Bella and Ivan were besties and wound up hating each other’s guts over the ‘No Business Like Snow Business’ challenge. The snowflakes were flying, and it was not pretty…”

  Mickey shrugged. “Sounds pretty. If you feel the urge to throw snowflakes at me, feel free,” she said.

  JC shook his head. “Nuh-uh. Trust me, that was one of the biggest fights ever in Assignment: Fashion history. To this day, Bella and Ivan are on the outs. It’s tragic!”

  “Well, I’m not Bella, and you’re not Ivan,” Mickey insisted.

  “Gosh, I hope not.” JC shuddered. “He had the worst style ever—all black and goth, not a pink or polka dot to be found. I could never!”

  • • •

  When Mickey arrived home, Olive already had dinner set on the table.

  “You smelled my tofu risotto!” Olive said, as Mickey opened the door.

  “Yum.” Mickey tried to be kind. Her aunt was always experimenting with strange vegan dishes.

  “And I made coconut date bites for dessert to celebrate.”

  Mickey looked puzzled. “Celebrate what?”

  “You getting on Assignment: Fashion. Your mom told me you called her on the way home with the news.”

  “Aw, I wanted to tell you myself!” Mickey whined.

  “And my promotion…kind of,” Olive said slowly. “My boss asked me to head up the entire paralegal department at Simpson Zimm Rose Lattanzi Partners. The executive director job.”

  Mickey threw her arms around her aunt’s waist. “Oh, Aunt Olive. That’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you! It’s what you’ve wanted for so long!” Then she realized Olive didn’t look all that happy. “Doesn’t it mean a big raise? And your own big office with a view?”

  “Yes, yes, it does,” Olive said, pulling out a chair for Mickey to take a seat. “Which is why it’s hard for me to turn it down.”

  “Turn it down? Why would you ever do that?”

  Olive sighed. “Because it would also mean relocating to the Los Angeles office,” she answered.

  Mickey let the words sink in. “You mean, you couldn’t live here in New York anymore? We couldn’t live here in New York anymore? And I couldn’t go to FAB anymore?”

  Olive nodded. “I would never ask you to leave your school, Mackenzie. I know how much it means to you.”

  Mickey knew that only a few short months ago, Olive would have done practically anything to earn this promotion—and she would have been on the first flight to California. She took great pride in her job and always said how much she wanted an executive position. She’d been a loyal employee for twenty years. But now, she was willing to throw everything away…for Mickey.

  “You can’t turn it down,” Mickey insisted, regretting the words the instant they came out of her mouth. “I…I’ll just have to leave FAB and go back home to Philly.”

  “I already spoke to your mother. We’re not going to allow that to happen. She wanted to give up her job and come here to live with you, but I said I’d be just fine staying where I was.”

  “No way!” Mickey cried. “Mom can’t give up her job, and neither can you—not for me.”

  “We love you.” Olive smiled. “And when you love someone, you make sacrifices.”

  Mickey’s eyes filled with tears. “But not this. It’s too much. I can’t ruin your life!”

  Olive reached across the table and took her hand. “Mackenzie, six months ago you came to live with me, and you made my life so much better than it ever was. I never had someone to take care of before. Except Percy…” She pointed to her yellow parakeet chirping away in its cage. “And he bites so that doesn’t count.”

  “I love you too, Aunt Olive,” Mickey said. “Which is why I can’t let you do this!”

  “I told my boss I’d have an answer for him in a week after I talked it over with my family,” Olive added. “Your mom and I made the decision tonight, and I think it’s the right one.”

  “No, it’s not! Not for you!” Mickey felt the tears streaming down her face. “You can’t give up your dream, Aunt Olive! I won’t let you!” She ran into her room and shut the door behind her. How had this day gone so suddenly wrong? One minute, she was about to be on Assignment: Fashion Jr. And the next…she was leaving NYC, FAB, and JC for good.

  • • •

  The producers of Assignment: Fashion Jr. emailed the twelve contestants instructions for the upcoming week of filming. They would be excused from school so they could participate fully in the show. There would be personal on-camera interviews, B-roll shots of them working in the sewing studio, draping their dress forms, and gathering materials, then the live runway show the next day where the winner and three runners-up would be chosen to win prizes.

  Mickey couldn’t concentrate on reading the complicated instr
uctions. She was too busy thinking about Aunt Olive. When her cell phone rang, she knew it would be JC, already having read the email several times and strategizing.

  “Okay,” he said as soon as she picked up. “I think they’re going to do an unconventional challenge—some strange materials that you would never think to use in fashion, but you have to or else.”

  “Uh-huh,” Mickey said absentmindedly.

  “You have to be prepared,” JC continued. “Expect full-on crazy, like gathering your material from a cafeteria, a party store, a construction site. They’ve done ’em all.”

  “Right,” Mickey replied. “No school this week…Assignment: Fashion.”

  “Are you even listening to me?” JC asked, growing impatient. “You have to plan for this, Mickey. You don’t have a lot of time to think, much less sketch, so you have to have your head in the game. I think yours is somewhere else.”

  Mickey sighed. “My aunt can’t leave New York City because of me,” she said.

  “Yeah, you live with her. Nothing new there.”

  “You don’t understand, JC. She has this amazing opportunity to work in California in this job she’s always dreamed of, and she has to say no because she’s stuck with me.”

  JC thought for a second. “Well, what’s the alternative? Go back to unfashionable Philly and your old life?”

  Mickey gulped. It really didn’t sound appealing.

  “Mickey, you’re not considering…” JC began.

  “I dunno. Maybe. I mean, I’ve had a whole year here at FAB. It’s been great…”

  “And it’s not ending!” JC insisted. “You can’t leave. We’ll have to figure something else out. I’m not letting my best friend bail on me.”

  Mickey sighed. If only there was another solution. “Aunt Olive gave me the chance to follow my dreams. How can I take hers away from her?”

  “Well, now you’ve been given a chance on Assignment: Fashion, which you’re about to blow!” JC scolded her. “Mickey, get through the next two days, impress the judges, and we’ll figure the rest out later. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Mickey said. “I’ll try.”

  “You’ll do more than just try,” JC instructed her. “You’ll have a game plan, no matter what challenge they throw at you. As soon as you hear what the theme is, you have to react with lightning-quick reflexes.”

  “JC, don’t you think you’re overthinking this a bit?”

  “No such thing!” he shot back. “I intend to spend the entire night analyzing every challenge the show has ever done—and what the winning designs were.”

  “I think I’ll wing it,” Mickey said. “I do much better when I’m spontaneous. It’ll just come to me.”

  “Or it won’t,” JC warned her. “And you’ll be standing there, staring into space, while everyone else is stitching up a storm. But hey, I tried to help you out…”

  “You did, JC, and I appreciate it,” she said. “But I’ll take my chances.”

  “Fine, just promise me you won’t worry about your aunt until after the show is over,” JC pleaded with her. “It’s two days, Mickey. A lot can change in a day.”

  JC marched into the Assignment: Fashion studios with not even a glance at his fellow competitors. He pulled Mickey along by the hand.

  “Don’t look any of them in the eye. You’ll give it away.”

  “Give what away?” Mickey asked.

  “Your game plan. Keep a perfect poker face. Don’t tip your hand.”

  Mickey noticed a boy waving to her from across the studio set.

  “Hey! W girl!” he called.

  “Z boy!” Mickey shouted back. So Jonah had actually gotten Jade to help him secure a spot on the show! Or maybe he was really that good on his own.

  “Did you not hear what I said?” JC scolded her. “No contact. No chitchatting with Z boy or whatever his name is.”

  “Jonah,” Mickey corrected him. “And he’s coming over to chitchat right now.”

  JC glared at him. “Sorry, she can’t talk.” He jumped between them. “Mickey’s on a mission. Gotta go, Joe…”

  He escorted her to the opposite side of the studio, as far away from Jonah as they could get.

  “JC, that was rude. He was trying to be friendly.”

  “He was trying to get you to spill your secrets,” JC replied.

  “I don’t have any secrets,” Mickey protested.

  “This is a battlefield, Mick, and it’s war. Don’t trust anyone.”

  “Not even you?” Mickey teased.

  “Not even me. Unless I say so.”

  Mickey tried not to laugh. “Okay, so what do we do?”

  “We scope out the studio, pick the best tables with the best lighting, and set up camp.”

  Mickey placed her sewing kit—a small tackle box filled with needles, pins, scissors, and buttons—on a wooden table in the center of the room. “This looks like a good spot.”

  “In the center? Where everyone can see you and spy on your work?” JC gasped. He grabbed her kit and placed it next to his—on a table tucked into the back corner of the studio. “You don’t want anyone to be able to watch what you’re doing and steal your ideas.”

  Mickey rolled her eyes; JC was getting a little carried away.

  “And that’s all you brought? That itty-bitty tackle box?” he asked her.

  “Yeah,” Mickey replied. “What else would I need?”

  JC unpacked the contents of his rolling backpack, messenger bag, and dog tote. There was no Madonna in it today—just several dozen zippers, assorted trim, buttons, sequins, studs, and beads, and at least a hundred different spools of thread.

  “Are you planning on sewing outfits for the entire crew?” Mickey exclaimed. “You don’t need all of this.”

  “I do. I have studied every show, and I have prepared for every possibility.” He held up a purple zipper. “If the challenge involves eggplants, I’m totally covered.”

  “Fashion designers of the future!” Helga called as she strutted into the studio. The supermodel was dressed in a tight purple dress and high heels.

  “See?” JC whispered to Mickey. “She likes purple. That zipper will come in handy.”

  “Welcome to Assignment: Fashion Jr.,” Helga continued. “We’re so excited to have you all here and see what you can do. You’ve already wowed us with your expertise.”

  JC beamed. “She means me.”

  “Your challenge will be a little ruff, so make sure you have claws out,” she said. “And if you think something’s fishy…you’re right!”

  JC’s face suddenly went white. “Oh no. They’ve never done that before…”

  “Done what?” Mickey asked.

  “You will be competing in an unconventional challenge, and your materials will come from Pet Emporium!” Helga announced.

  Mickey thought JC would be thrilled—dogs were his thing! Instead, he looked as pale as a ghost.

  “I have nothing,” he said, devastated. “No plan. No idea. I didn’t prepare for this at all, and now I’m doomed.”

  “Contestants, we will be leaving in five minutes. All the materials you use to create your looks must come from Pet Emporium—no exceptions. You have a fifty-dollar budget to spend, and today and part of tomorrow to create your looks. Good luck!” Helga pointed to the cameras, already shooting away. “And everything will be captured for our TV audiences!”

  JC looked like he was going to faint. “Doomed. Doomed. Doomed,” he said over and over.

  Mickey seized him by the shoulders and shook him. There was no other way to snap him out of it. “Get a grip on yourself!” she shouted. “And get it fast!” She noticed a cameraman zooming in on her. Her little outburst probably made for great TV.

  “Um, hi out there, millions of people watching this,” she said, waving. “I’m Mickey and this
is JC.”

  She turned her friend to face the camera. “What do you want to tell the viewers, JC?”

  Suddenly, the color returned to JC’s cheeks. “I’m totally excited for this challenge.” He perked up as the camera lens came closer. “Because no one knows this show better than I do.”

  Mickey breathed a huge sigh of relief. JC was back.

  “And cut!” the director said, giving him a thumbs-up. “That’ll be a nice close-up for you, kid.” JC smiled weakly.

  “Feeling better?” Mickey asked him.

  “I’m a wreck,” he confessed. “But I also remembered that in season six, Laverne didn’t have a clue what to do for the pizza restaurant unconventional challenge and wound up creating the winning look.”

  “What did she do?”

  “She made a jumpsuit out of pizza aprons,” he recalled.

  “You mean she winged it,” Mickey pointed out.

  “Technically, she mozzarella-ed it,” JC corrected her. “She used the shredded cheese as fringe on the jumpsuit. It was inspired.”

  “I know you can do better than that,” Mickey encouraged him. “You’re always shopping for Madonna in Pet Emporium.”

  “For biscuits and bones and wee-wee pads.” JC groaned. “Not for a fashionable couture look.”

  “But you know every inch of that store and where things are. You’re totally prepared.”

  JC’s face lit up. “You know, you’re right. I have a huge advantage. I’m gonna win this!”

  She pushed him toward the door. “That’s the JC I know and love.”

  “And the JC who’s going to win Assignment: Fashion Jr.,” he added.

  Like I said, Mickey thought to herself, he’s baaaack!

  As soon as they walked through the door of Pet Emporium, JC made a beeline straight for the second aisle where all the cat and dog supplies were kept. “Outta my way!” he bellowed at the other kids.

  “Whoa, he’s intense, isn’t he?” Jonah asked Mickey.

  “Ya think?” She laughed.

  “Any idea what you’re gonna do?” he asked. Mickey remembered what JC had said: keep a poker face and reveal nothing.