“Mr. Harrison, please, Mr. Mankiewicz needs you at the base of the pyramid steps. This is your big scene!”
“Call me Caesar!” he projected in a booming British accent as though he were delivering a soliloquy to an audience from the stage.
“Yes, Caesar, please come with me to the set,” the woman pleaded.
“I will not utter another line until my agent has it in writing that Richard and I have equal billing. If Marc Antony is on a poster, Caesar should be on the same poster!”
“I’m sure that can be arranged, Rex, I mean, Caesar.” The woman was now near tears. “Please do this one scene and we can iron out all the details later.”
He looked strangely familiar, and then Louise remembered that, for one, she had just been watching this exact movie in history class, but also that he played Henry Higgins in My Fair Lady! She and her mom loved that movie. She was about to tell him that when he briskly walked past, and then she realized that maybe he hadn’t made that film yet. And besides, Henry Higgins was turning out to be a bit of a jerk in real life.
“Here we are! Costumes!” Louise and Howie stopped abruptly in front of a large tent covered with a dusty red awning.
“I’ll leave you here. I need to report back to Walter, my boss. Good luck! Pleasure officially meeting you,” Howie added before adjusting his glasses once more and running off in the opposite direction.
Louise lifted the heavy tent flap and stepped inside. She broke into a huge grin; she had just arrived in fashion heaven. The wardrobe area was almost as crazy and bustling as Marla and Glenda’s Fashionista shop. Rolling racks of costumes for men, women, kids, and even horses were crammed under the canvas canopy. A haphazard pile of engraved bronze shields and swords was in the middle of the floor. A row of worn, lace-up brown leather boots and gladiator sandals in every possible size ran along one side of the tent.
There was a whole colorful rack marked ELIZABETH crammed full with long silk and floor-sweeping linen gowns of periwinkle blue, burnt sienna, white and gold, and forest green, many of which she recognized from the film. Louise couldn’t help but run her hand along the endless row of luxurious fabrics, savoring the feel of the wispy material tickling her palm. A long folding table was covered in a line of mannequin heads donning dark braided wigs; elaborate headdresses with ostrich plumes and feathers; and heaps of gold jewelry, cuffs, collar necklaces studded with deep red garnet and golden yellow topaz, and dangling emerald and ruby earrings. Louise was entranced in a state of pure Fashionista bliss! People actually did this? Like, for a job? Maybe if she became a costume designer when she grew up, she could hang out with movie stars and play dress-up her whole life after all. Quite possibly, Louise had not just found the wardrobe tent, she had also found her calling.
“Joan! I need a hand here. Where the heavens have you been? And what happened to you?” a sharp, angry voice broke her out of her reverie. This woman must be Irene Sharaff, the costume designer for the movie Cleopatra and, it seemed, Louise’s new boss. And she did not seem pleased at all.
“Umm…” Louise stuttered.
“And take that costume off! You’d think they’d have enough extras without poaching my staff!”
“Well, I…”
“Never mind, I don’t have time!” Irene must have been around her mother’s age, with thick dark hair that was fastened in a giant chignon at the top of her head and deep brown eyes lined in heavy pencil, accentuated by a strong nose and a sharp chin. A perfectly round beauty mark dotted the right side of her eyebrow. She was wearing a simple black knee-length pencil skirt with a tucked crisp white blouse, looking more like a teacher from the sixties than a fashion plate. But in her hands was the most marvelous sunset orange silk, pleated dress Louise had ever seen.
“Ooh, that’s beautiful,” Louise gushed.
“We just got this magnificent imported silk delivered, and I sewed it this morning. I think it will be perfect for the Roman gala scene, don’t you?”
“Yes, it’s perfect!” Louise exclaimed with the foresight of someone who had just watched that exact scene in class the day before.
“I do hope it fits her. Judy was difficult, but in all my years of costume design, I have never experienced anything quite like this.”
“Judy?” Louise asked.
“Judy Garland, of course,” Irene responded. Whoa, this woman had worked with Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz!
“How can a woman go up or down several sizes in one night? Luckily, the Greek-style gowns are a bit forgiving, but the Egyptian tunics all need to be restitched with every slice of chocolate cake she eats!” Irene exclaimed.
Too bad wrap dresses aren’t popular yet, Louise thought. It would save Irene a lot of work!
“And all the weight she lost after that last hospitalization! I’ve never heard of anyone going to the hospital as much as she does. No one in the audience will even believe it’s the same Cleopatra—she looks so different from day to day!”
“Maybe they can use some special effects or something when they finish,” Louise suggested.
“You tell me what kind of special effect will change an actress’s weight in a picture,” Irene guffawed.
Louise had to bite her tongue to keep from telling her that in a few decades all actresses were pretty much retouched to look thinner. They definitely didn’t have Photoshop or CGI on this film set.
“What was your favorite production to work on?” Louise couldn’t help but ask. She was currently assisting a costume-design legend—she had a ton of questions.
“Oh, West Side Story was fabulous. I absolutely loved making those dresses for darling Natalie Wood! The King and I was marvelous as well. I save a little keepsake from each picture to remember it by, maybe a little piece of jewelry or a skirt,” Irene continued, her hard features softening as she clutched the orange gown to her chest and dreamily reflected on her past. “It’s a way for me to hold on to all the memories. I just don’t think I could pick a favorite,” she said wistfully. But then, just as quickly, she snapped back to attention. “Although at this point I’d say anything but this picture. I’ve never had such a large costume budget and such an enormous headache. Which will get even bigger if I don’t fix this dress. I need you to find that gold belt with the tassels for me. We need it for the next scene, and Liz will be here any minute,” Irene said briskly, signaling that their brief bonding session had come to an abrupt end. She handed Louise a pile of Joan’s clothes for her to change into.
“Sure thing,” Louise answered quickly, trying to act like this Joan girl even though she had no idea how to find anything in this crammed space. She ducked behind one of the racks and switched into Joan’s white short-sleeved cotton blouse, black capri pants, and loafers. She felt very Audrey Hepburn.
“Any luck?” Irene asked.
“Not yet.” She searched the accessories table for the elusive belt but with no success. She didn’t want to get fired on her first day! Checking behind one of the racks of long, embroidered gold dresses, Louise came across an old wooden trunk that had a sign written in thick black marker—SOURCE MATERIAL. PRIVATE. KEEP OUT!—tacked onto the top. It might as well have read LOUISE, PLEASE OPEN ME!, as that was her first overwhelming instinct. She looked around to see if she was being watched by her new boss—she wasn’t—and carefully lifted the heavy lid of the trunk. If they actually wanted to keep people away, they would have put a lock on it, right? she rationalized. And maybe the belt Irene was looking for was in there.
The interior of the trunk smelled like stale mothballs and appeared to be empty, just filled with crumpled newspapers and tissue paper. Louise pulled out a balled-up sheet of newsprint and discovered it was a copy of Variety from 1961! Unnerved, she read the top headline: “Production Continues on Jinxed Cleopatra Film: The Most Expensive Movie Ever Made.” She flipped open the newspaper and continued reading. “Production has resumed on the epic film Cleopatra, which is now considered the most expensive film to date, with an astronomical budg
et of $44 million. Director Rouben Mamoulian has resigned and was replaced by Academy Award–winning director Joseph Mankiewicz. Star Elizabeth Taylor, who fell ill at the beginning of production, has recovered from an emergency tracheotomy and is now cleared by her doctors to continue shooting. Rumor has it that Elizabeth and her costar Richard Burton are doing a lot more than just acting on the set, much to the chagrin of their respective spouses. We can only project what calamity will happen next on this seemingly doomed production!” That must have been who that girl was trying to show Louise behind the tree! She had just seen the beginning of one of the greatest and most dramatic Hollywood love stories of all time!
“Joan? The belt, please!” a harried Irene called out to her.
Louise quickly stowed the newspaper back inside the seemingly bare trunk and decided that maybe she wasn’t the only one who had ignored the KEEP OUT warning, but then she felt a hard object edged into the corner. Louise eagerly pulled out a huge, single milky pearl on a gold pendant dangling from a thin chain. She had never seen a pearl that ginormous in her life! It was creamy and iridescent, and it practically glowed in her hands. It was the most beautiful necklace she had ever seen. Louise held the chain up to her neck and felt a peculiar warmth on her chest, kind of like how she felt when she put on her mother’s poodle charm necklace.
“Ireney!” a strangely familiar voice sang from outside the tent. Louise heard a commotion of people as she turned to see the Elizabeth Taylor storm into the wardrobe department wearing a low-cut periwinkle blue sleeveless gown and dramatic matching blue eye shadow with thick cat-eye black liner that highlighted her lavender-colored eyes. A very large entourage of frazzled-looking assistants hustled in behind her. Up close, she was even more beautiful than in the photographs Louise had seen of her, some of which were taped to the inside of her locker at school. She was tanner and more voluptuous than the pale, size 00 stars she saw in Us Weekly and probably only a few inches taller than Louise was. She was more real. But there was something luminous about her, too, as if she almost radiated. Louise noticed that Elizabeth had a faint white scar across her neck, probably from that recent operation she’d just read about. Louise decided she would have to watch the movie again once she got home now that she had actually seen all the actors in real life. If this could be considered real life. It was definitely a dream come true for Louise.
“This tunic is fabulous, but it’s a little tight in the tummy. I had an extra steak last night, and this doesn’t fit me like it did yesterday. Can you let it out a bit, Ireney? Pour me a little more champagne, love. This shoot is interminable. Although I don’t mind when I’m shooting a scene with Richard. What do you think of him, Irene? Isn’t he a dream?”
“Elizabeth, darling, don’t worry, we will take care of everything. Please have a seat. Joan? Where is my assistant?!” she heard Irene yell exasperatedly from the other end of the tent. “I need that belt immediately! As you can see, Ms. Taylor is here for her fitting.”
“Sorry, Miss Sharaff.” Louise frantically took one last look around and spotted a gold tasseled belt carelessly draped over a rack of white togas at the far side of the space. “Found it—I’m coming!” Louise shouted, palming the necklace and quietly shutting the lid of the rusted old trunk. She would just take a little souvenir home to Connecticut to prove that she was actually here on the set of Cleopatra. It was a memento like Irene said she kept from all her movies, Louise thought, justifying to herself what she was about to do. Besides, how else would anyone ever believe her? She decided to hide it under her blouse for safekeeping for the time being.
“Joan, we do have a movie to make here. Sometime this year, please! Sorry, Miss Taylor, I don’t know what’s gotten into her. She is usually so reliable.”
“She’s a little too elusive for an assistant, don’t you think?” the actress replied, chuckling. “Why don’t you borrow one of mine?”
Louise brought the supersize pearl necklace up to her neck, and no sooner had she clasped the delicate chain, then she collapsed to the sound of her film idol laughing her unmistakable deep, throaty chuckle. At her.
When Louise awoke, she had a sinking feeling she wasn’t in Hollywood anymore. She screamed. She was nose-to-nose with an intense-looking teenage girl who had tan olive skin, dark kohl eye makeup extending out past her brown almond-shaped eyes, a large hook nose, a thick neck, and a rather prominent chin.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” the girl said tersely. She had a white ribbon tied around her head, and her dark waves were held back in a low bun with some escaped little pieces framing her face, much like Louise’s own typical hairstyle. Her hair was a deep brown but with a reddish tint, as if she had used henna to color it.
“Oh, good, Charmian, you found it!” the girl continued. “Quickly, give it to me! I need to get back to my studies. An important Roman general is coming to the palace for dinner soon, and I have an idea I need your help with.” When the girl spoke, Louise caught a glimpse of her crooked yellowish teeth. Where she was now, they clearly didn’t have orthodontists.
“Ummm… g-give what?” Louise stuttered, confused.
“Why, the pearl necklace I asked you to find, of course,” the girl explained impatiently as she yanked a thin chain from around Louise’s neck. Ouch! It was the same pearl necklace she had tried on from the trunk on the film set. Oh, why did she decide to take that necklace? She had finally found her dream job, was working for a famous costume designer alongside a Hollywood acting legend, and then she had to go and poke around in a trunk that specifically warned her against poking around. From experience, Louise knew she was going to need to keep an eye on that pearl necklace if she wanted any chance of making it home. But who was this girl? By the demanding tone of her voice, Louise had a feeling she had another boss to contend with. A boss who had just taken the iridescent pearl and gold chain—Louise’s ticket home—and dropped it into her satchel before hurrying out of the room with a scarlet red silk cape trailing dramatically behind her.
Louise took a deep breath as she looked around the room to try to get her equilibrium back. She was never going to get used to this abrupt change of scenery. The warm air smelled exotic, like cardamom and spicy incense. She was in a grand bedroom with elaborate jewel-toned Persian carpets blanketing the white marble floors and a large raised bed that was twice as big as a California king mattress, with ivory silk sheets and a gauzy white fabric surrounding it. The lofted ceilings seemed about fifty feet high and made Louise feel like a dollhouse-size version of herself. Palm trees and spiky green plants were potted in large brown clay vessels around the room. She walked through an arched doorway out onto a blue-and-white-tiled balcony that overlooked a vast crowded city, and in the distance was a great sea filled with ships, their masts fitted with white billowing sails.
Louise looked down and saw she was now wearing a more primitive version of the gown she had tried on at the sale. It was a pleated dress dyed in a pale purple color, and it felt kind of scratchy against her skin, as if it was made of a rough linen fabric. It was much simpler and less luxurious than the lavender dress she’d tried on, but cut in a similar toga style, with two thick shoulder straps forming a deep V that kept the dress in place. The frayed, unfinished hem fell down to her ankles and just above her shoes—brown leather gladiator sandals that were at least two sizes too small and pinched her feet.
Meow. An elegant Siamese cat strolled regally into the bedroom, and Louise walked back inside and crouched down to pet it. The cat started purring and rubbing its head against Louise’s legs as though starved for attention. Louise missed her gray cat, Bogart, who was hit by a mail truck a few years ago. She was lost in a memory of him but was interrupted when a petite, dark-haired girl ran into the room, totally out of breath.
“Charmian, what are you doing?!” she asked, apparently horrified to see Louise petting the cat, which was now stretched out with its soft white belly exposed. “Don’t touch that! It’s a god!”
“Oops.”
Louise quickly shot up, startling the cat, which yelped and scurried out of the room. That cute house cat was considered a god? There was definitely a different set of rules here that Louise would have to learn if she had any hope of fitting in. The girl was wearing a marigold yellow variation of Louise’s rustic dress, the color of which brought out the green in her eyes, and her black shoulder-length hair was braided with little gold tinkling beads securing the ends. She was very pretty, in an exotic sort of way.
“Cleopatra forgot her scroll of Homer’s poetry,” she said, holding out an enormous roll of paper. “You know how she hates to be unprepared and how much she loves The Odyssey. Do get it to her right away!”
Wait a second, that teenage girl I just met—the one with the enormous nose, frizzy hair, and bad teeth—is Cleopatra? But she didn’t look anything like Elizabeth Taylor. In fact, there really was not any resemblance at all. Probably most people in the modern world, Louise included, thought of Cleopatra as being as beautiful as a movie star. But that girl wasn’t even… pretty.
“Umm… Okay. But where did she go?”
“To the royal study, of course! She has lessons with her tutor, Pothinus, all day. Down the promenade and to the right,” the flustered girl continued when she saw the puzzled look clouding Charmian’s face.
“Is that—are you—Stella?” Louise asked hesitantly, hoping somehow that this girl was actually her friend and that they could be on an adventure together again. It would be so much more fun if she had someone to share it with.
“Stella? Who are you referring to?” asked the exasperated girl, who Louise immediately deduced was definitely not her fellow Fashionista. “I am Livia.”
“Never mind,” Louise replied, trying to mask her disappointment. “Of course, Livia, I will take it to her immediately.” Louise clumsily took the carpet-size roll of papyrus tied with a red silk tassel and awkwardly rushed out of the room before she had time to ask Livia any more seemingly obvious questions.
The Time-Traveling Fashionista and Cleopatra, Queen of the Nile Page 5