“It’s different. I like it. Anyways, I’ll see you later, then,” Todd said, getting on his skateboard and taking off through the crowded hall. He nearly ran into Miss Jones, Louise’s history class substitute, who looked just as frazzled as she did on her first day. Louise laughed, happy that some things never changed.
“I heard at the PTA meeting that your history teacher Miss Morris just packed up and left for vacation before the year was over. I never considered her much of a traveler. Isn’t that rather peculiar? And right before the end of the school year. How do you like the sub?” Mrs. Lambert asked on the drive over to the Pattersons’ dinner party that evening.
“Miss Jones is great—she started showing us the movie Cleopatra in class.”
“Oh, I love that film. That’s always been one of my favorites. I can’t believe I never watched that with you. The costumes were fabulous from what I remember,” she said, touching up her makeup in the visor mirror. “Actually, your dress probably could have been in that movie. That seemed to be the style of the times.”
“Who knows? Maybe it was,” Louise replied with a wink. “Did you know Irene Sharaff won an Academy Award for her work on that movie? She was one of the best costume designers of all time.”
“How did you know that?” her mom asked, looking over her shoulder to the backseat.
“It’s kind of a long story,” Louise said, shaking her head. “I feel like there’s a lot we need to catch up on.”
“I imagine there is,” her mother replied, nervously looking over at Mr. Lambert, who was totally oblivious and whistling along off-key to some oldie that was playing on the radio.
Her parents’ Volvo pulled up the long car-filled driveway to the Pattersons’ familiar Colonial-style house, and Louise got a few butterflies thinking about seeing Peter again outside of school. As she had suspected, her parents hadn’t let her wear any eyeliner, but she still felt as though she looked pretty good. Her curly hair was tied up in a low bun with a white ribbon holding back the wisps the same way Cleopatra had worn it. She was wearing a pair of gladiator sandals, but these were from Steve Madden, not ancient Egypt, and were a million times more comfortable. Looking down at her lavender pleated dress, she got a jolt of confidence. She realized she would probably never be the most beautiful girl in the room, particularly compared with her naturally gorgeous best friend, but she knew she had something special inside her, a unique set of experiences that would help guide her and give her confidence in her day-to-day life.
“That’s a great dress,” Peter commented when the Lamberts walked into the Pattersons’ crowded living room. Louise’s lavender hem swept the polished hardwood floor. Her mom and dad rushed off in the other direction to say hello to Brooke’s parents. “Like something out of an old movie or something. In a good way,” he added, almost sounding a bit nervous.
“Thanks, it’s vintage,” Louise responded confidently, but with a few little butterflies still fluttering around her stomach thanks to Peter’s dimpled smile. She had almost forgotten how cute he was.
“Told you he’d like it,” Brooke teased, grabbing a pig in a blanket from a white-smocked caterer who was circling the room with a tray of appetizers. Louise instinctively knocked the bite-size hot dog out of her friend’s pink manicured fingers thinking for a second that it could be poisoned, before realizing that she was back in the twenty-first century and that no one was trying to kill them with hors d’oeuvres.
“Sorry,” Louise apologized, once again mortified. “Arm spasm.”
Brooke observed Louise with a confused expression and then grabbed a miniquiche from the next waiter who passed by. She looked amazing as usual with her long blonde layers perfectly framing her face and wearing a short white lace dress with a black satin bow tied around her waist. There was no question that Brooke was her mother’s daughter, though. And Mrs. Patterson, with the youthful looks of someone who was constantly declared Brooke’s “sister,” must have invited half of Fairview to the dinner. Even the mayor was holding court by the buffet table.
“Everything Louise owns is vintage,” Brooke said, rolling her eyes after swallowing the tiny bite of quiche.
“Sweet,” Peter said. “I think it’s great that you don’t dress like a clone of everyone else here,” he said, jokingly punching his cousin in the arm. “Maybe you can help me find some vintage stuff. My parents threw out half of my clothes when we moved.” Louise noticed that he was wearing the same old-fashioned-looking charcoal gray three-piece suit that he wore to Brooke’s thirteenth birthday party a few weeks ago. For once, Louise felt happy about standing out.
“Sure,” she replied. “That would be fun.” She would not overanalyze whether this was a date, she thought, clearly already overanalyzing.
“You should take him to—” Brooke began.
“I can take you to the Salvation Army downtown,” Louise interrupted. “And I’m an expert eBay and Etsy shopper.”
Brooke raised her eyebrow and gave her another quizzical look, but she didn’t push the issue. Louise liked Peter and felt as though she could trust him, but she wasn’t ready to share her ultimate vintage source with anyone besides her best friend. Maybe one day she would take him to meet Marla and Glenda, but not yet.
Louise felt a slight tug on the skirt of her dress, and she turned around to find Brooke’s eight-year-old brother scowling up at her from under his mop of flaxen blond curls, poking her with a light-up blue plastic sword. “This is so boring. Will you play with me, Lou?”
“Maybe later,” Louise acquiesced, feeling a stomach-churning wave of déjà vu. Apparently younger brothers were annoying whatever century you were in.
“Please?” he whined.
“Leave us alone, Julian,” Brooke said, exasperated, swatting him away like a housefly. “Can’t you see that we’re in the middle of an important adult conversation?”
“It’s not fair. You never want to play with me!” The towheaded boy stormed off in a huff, swinging his toy weapon, which made an automated clanging sound with each slice through the air.
And suddenly, as Louise grabbed a coconut shrimp skewer from another passing platter and watched Brooke’s little brother weave through the legs of other partygoers, she had a startling realization. She had been so happy to be back to her normal life, and so excited to meet up with Stella again at the next Traveling Fashionista Vintage Sale, that she didn’t notice she hadn’t yet received an invitation.
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book would not have been possible without the help of some fabulous fashionistas at Poppy, particularly my new partner in crime, Pam Gruber; Alison Impey; Lisa Moraleda; Mara Lander; Christine Ma; and Tracy Koontz. I think I may have the most supportive, patient, and hilarious agent in NYC, Elisabeth Weed. And I am forever grateful to Cindy Eagan for discovering and bringing Louise’s story to life. Thanks to Howie Sanders and Dana Borowitz at UTA for making me feel glamorous by association. Thank you to Sandra Suy who magically draws Louise and her adventures just as I’d imagined them to be.
Thank you to Carter Lupton at the Milwaukee Public Museum for being so generous with his time and archaeological expertise. You do officially have the coolest job ever! A very belated thanks to some early supporters of T-TF: Carolyn MacCullough for being such a great teacher, Sebastian Silva for sharing his Titanic knowledge and book collection, and Heather Dyer for reminding me what middle school is really like. Thanks to David Swanson, whose additional editing and creativity made this book even better than I had hoped for. Thank you to my extremely understanding cohorts at Schnabel Studio: Julian Schnabel, Tamiko Benjamin, Cat Yezbak, Gretchen Kraus, and Porfirio Munoz, who give me the time and flexibility to lead this amazing double life. Deepest gratitude to my grandmother Louise who has a drawer full of magical ideas just waiting to be developed, and the energy and enthusiasm to get me to do it. I can’t wait to see where this next chapter tak
es us!
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
I’ve always been captivated by the story of Cleopatra. My fascination began with reading Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra in my high school English class and continued through watching Elizabeth Taylor portray Egypt’s most famous queen on the silver screen. During the research process for this book, I was surprised to discover how little is actually known about Cleopatra’s reign in ancient Egypt. As it turns out, almost all of Cleopatra’s writings and belongings were destroyed after the queen’s death. Much of her story is left to speculation as archaeologists and historians try to reconstruct her incredible life from what artifacts and documents do remain. But rather than being problematic, this lack of information makes her life great fodder for a fiction writer like me! It leaves me plenty of room to take the pieces we do know for sure—like her marriage to Ptolemy, her younger brother and co-ruler, and his subsequent plot on her life—and imagine the rest of the details.
One of the more famous legends about Cleopatra—and my favorite—is the pearl-earring story woven into Chapter 26. Although the historical incident probably didn’t take place until a few years later, I couldn’t resist including it in my book. The “famous Roman general” visiting Egypt was actually Marc Antony, who met Cleopatra later in her life. I took the liberty of moving this event to this point in time to illustrate Cleopatra’s character, cunning, and humor.
Cleopatra was once the richest and most influential person in the ancient world, and she reigned more than two thousand years ago. It’s amazing how modern it seems to have a powerful woman ruling over a kingdom. I wanted to depict the famous Queen of the Nile as she really was: a smart and shrewd politician who spoke many languages and was probably not all that beautiful by today’s standards. Hollywood has painted her as a gorgeous seductress, but historians now believe this wasn’t quite the case. For me, imagining Cleopatra as a more ordinary-looking person, as seen in her portrait profile on her coin, is both more impressive and more relatable, making Cleopatra someone who could truly inspire a budding fashionista like Louise and, I hope, my readers.
Explore ancient Egypt and learn even more about Cleopatra with these resources!
BOOKS:
Cleopatra: A Life, by Stacy Schiff
Antony and Cleopatra, by William Shakespeare
The Royal Diaries, Cleopatra VII: Daughter of the Nile, by Kristiana Gregory
Cleopatra: Last Queen of Egypt, by Joyce Tyldesley
Cleopatra, by Diane Stanley and Peter Vennema
Cleopatra and Rome, by Diana E. E. Kleiner
MOVIES:
Cleopatra, directed by Joseph L. Makiewicz (Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation, 1963). (Featuring Elizabeth Taylor)
Cleopatra: The First Woman of Power, directed by Katherine Gilday, narrated by Anjelica Huston (CineNova Productions Inc., 1999).
Also by Bianca Turetsky:
The Time-Traveling Fashionista On Board the Titanic
The Time-Traveling Fashionista at the Palace of Marie Antoinette
CONTENTS
COVER
TITLE PAGE
WELCOME
DEDICATION
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
ALSO BY BIANCA TURETSKY
COPYRIGHT
Copyright
This book is a work of historical fiction. In order to give a sense of the times, the names of certain real historical people, places, and events have been included in the book, but are used fictitiously. The non-historical characters and events portrayed in this book are the product of the author’s imagination. Any similarity of such non-historical persons or events to real ones is purely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2013 by Bianca Turetsky
Illustrations copyright © 2013 by Sandra Suy
THE TIME-TRAVELING FASHIONISTA® is a registered trademark of Bianca Turetsky. All rights reserved.
Cover design by Alison Impey
Cover illustrations © 2013 by Sandra Suy
Cover © 2013 Hachette Book Group, Inc.
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
Poppy
Hachette Book Group
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Poppy is an imprint of Little, Brown and Company.
The Poppy name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.
The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.
First ebook edition: December 2013
ISBN 978-0-316-22491-8
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