The Changing Room

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The Changing Room Page 7

by Christine Sykes


  Molly rang Grandma. The phone rang out. Damn, she thought, why couldn’t Grandma get an answering machine or a mobile phone? She tried again and there was still no answer. Probably gone grocery shopping.

  Molly sat on a log. She could see the farmhouse and the outhouse. Beside the farmhouse was the rusty tank. There were thirteen bikes lined up in front of the garage. Beyond the house was a dirt track and gate. There were no other houses in sight and the track led into bush.

  The sun was high in the sky and Molly thought about her choices. She could wait and hope Dickhead Dave would wake up soon and continue the trip to Coffs. If he didn’t, she’d have another terrifying night in the barn and she was less sure she could sneak away this time. Without Joe to protect her, she knew she’d be fair game.

  Oh, Joe, where are you and why did you leave me?

  Her other choice was to leave and walk along the dirt track, hoping someone would help her get to the main road. Maybe hitch hike from there. Not a great choice.

  If only she could talk to Grandma.

  Molly rang again. Still no answer. It must be time for the kids’ lunch. They were probably at the mall and Grandma had decided to have lunch there as a treat. Molly decided to stay up the hill and wait until she could get through to her. She positioned herself so she could keep an eye on Dickhead Dave.

  As Molly dozed, she remembered the time she and Joe took the kids to the mall to celebrate their anniversary, and her feelings of happiness and pride. Then she remembered Matthew’s restlessness, wanting to look in the nearby toy store, Joe insisting he stay at the table with the rest of the family. Molly felt a kick on her leg.

  ‘Matthew, stop it,’ she whispered.

  Joe reaching over and grabbing his arm. ‘Don’t treat your mother that way. She deserves your respect.’

  Molly put her hand on her thigh to ward off the kicks. ‘It’s all right, Joe. I can manage it.’

  Matthew kicked harder.

  Molly woke with a start. Dickhead Dave was standing over her, blocking the sun. She felt another kick, this time to her ribs. She cried out.

  ‘What the fuck are ya doin’,’ he yelled and grabbed his phone. ‘Shit, you’ve used up me battery. Bitch.’ His teeth were stained and his tongue looked furry. ‘Spose we betta get outta this shithole. Y’ ready ta go find Joe?’

  Molly scrambled off the log and followed him down the hill to his bike.

  7

  ANNA

  The hot February wind blew a plastic bag around Anna’s ankles while she waited in the lane behind a 1960s apartment building.

  Why had she let Valda talk her into coming?

  ‘Hello, you’re a bit early.’ A woman wearing tan trousers with a linen blazer, loafers and some small but artistic pieces of silver-and-gold jewellery approached.

  The woman was in her mid-forties and looked cool, even while she juggled a briefcase and a pile of drycleaning bags that flapped in the wind. Anna took the clothes and the metal hangers dug into her sweaty hands.

  ‘Thanks, much appreciated. It’s great people give us clothes which have already been cleaned but they can be a handful.’ The woman punched a code into the panel at the side of the door. ‘Sorry, I’m being rude. I’m Claire. You must be …’

  ‘Anna. I’m Anna.’

  ‘Nice to meet you and welcome to our hole in the wall. Hopefully it’s a bit cooler inside.’

  Claire opened the door to reveal a walkway into a courtyard. Weeds grew in the cracks of the concrete paving and paint peeled from the doors of the apartments surrounding the courtyard.

  They climbed up the stairs to the second floor. Claire opened a freshly painted purple door and pushed aside the boxes piled in the dim corridor.

  ‘They must’ve done a clean-up last night. These are winter clothes.’ Claire turned on a light and entered the first room off the corridor. In the centre of the room was a large table with seats around it, surrounded by racks of clothing.

  Claire put her briefcase on the table and pulled the overhead projector from a cupboard. ‘This is our training and sorting room. You can put those clothes on the hanger. Thank you so much.’

  Claire turned on an air-conditioner, which was wedged in the window.

  ‘This was donated by a board member. It doesn’t work well and it’s noisy, but hopefully it’ll keep us cool enough to concentrate. And that room’s a mess,’ said Claire. She used her elegantly shod foot to push a box out of the doorway of a smaller room packed with racks of clothing. ‘This is where we keep the clothes that are not suitable to go into the showroom. Some of our clients have functions to go to, weddings, christenings and nothing to wear. These are casual clothes and these are out of season and ready to be packed away. These ones need repairing or ironing.’

  ‘Hello. Anybody there?’

  Anna was relieved to hear Valda’s voice.

  A young woman wearing jeans and a singlet top followed Valda into the room. ‘Hello, I’m Rosemary.’ She pushed her fringe out of her eyes.

  ‘Oh good, more people. I’m never sure how many will turn up, even though they’ve made a commitment. Hi, I’m Claire, and this is Anna. Take a seat round the table.’

  Several more women arrived and Anna made a note of their names and seating positions so she could remember them later.

  ‘Right, let’s start,’ said Claire, standing in front of the assembled group. ‘Firstly, I want to thank you all so much for giving up your valuable time on a Saturday morning to come to this orientation session.’ Claire manoeuvred the overhead projector into place. ‘I know this is old-fashioned, but the projector was donated to us and we can’t afford anything else at present.’

  A slide appeared with one word: SUITABILITY.

  ‘Your interest in being a volunteer is wonderful. So, welcome all of you. What does “suitability” mean to you?’

  Anna looked around the table and waited for someone else to answer.

  Rosemary was first. ‘It’s about having the properties which are right for a specific purpose.’

  ‘I think it’s about being appropriately attired for an event; for example, what to wear to a party as compared to a funeral,’ said Valda.

  Anna had consistently bought the best tailored clothes she could afford and she wore the same style of outfit to every event, only needing to add a jacket or a piece of jewellery.

  ‘You’re both right,’ said Claire, putting on the next slide. ‘In this context, it’s about being in the right clothes for the right job. Or more accurately, the right clothes for the interview for the job.’

  ‘It galls me the clothes a woman wears are so important,’ said Rosemary. ‘It should be about a person’s skills for the job, and not the way they look.’

  Anna could sense Rosemary would be able to get a job even dressed in jeans. She herself would never have contemplated doing such a thing. In fact, Anna didn’t even own a pair of jeans. She had settled for trousers that were black, navy or grey. They went everywhere and went with everything.

  ‘Unfortunately, what we call “lookism” is rife, and I have more information on recent research which I can share with you later.’ Claire held up a report. ‘Before I do though, let’s introduce ourselves, and give a little bit of background as to why we came here today.’

  Anna hoped she’d be the last person to speak so she could hear what everyone else said and have time to work out what to say.

  ‘I’ll begin,’ said Claire. ‘My involvement with Suitability is like one of those jokes. You know. Three women walked into a bar and ...’ Claire waited. Rosemary and Valda laughed, but Anna didn’t understand why. ‘Anyway, we threw around ideas about how we could help those who are disadvantaged get into the workplace.’

  Claire took a sip of water. A smudge of coral lipstick remained on the rim of the glass.

  ‘For many women who have difficulty getting work, often through no fault of their own, it is even more important they have access to appropriate clothing. Yet they are the least able to
afford the clothes.’

  Claire lay her Cartier watch on the table and hung her jacket on the back of her chair. Her slim arms were toned and tanned.

  ‘Meanwhile, those of us who have jobs have more clothes than we can fit in our wardrobes. So, the answer seemed obvious. We commenced small, with donations of clothes from friends and colleagues. I’m a partner in an executive coaching business with Alice – stand up, Alice, so everyone can see you –’

  Alice, stylish with well-cut hair and wearing a tailored pantsuit, stood up and acknowledged the others with a smile.

  ‘– who along with our friend Genevieve helped me set up Suitability. We’ve recently hired a manager for our business, which means I have more flexibility to train new volunteers and coordinate the board.’

  Anna was relieved when Claire turned to Valda.

  ‘I know Genevieve from my bridge club and she’s always talking about this organisation. It sounded interesting, so I thought I’d come along. I thought I might be able to help those less fortunate than me.’

  ‘I heard about Suitability at the law firm where I work,’ said Rosemary. ‘One of the partners met Claire at a function and came into work all fired up about it. She asked me to help run a clothing drive and I was hooked. I’m currently an executive assistant to one of the partners, and I’m studying to be a lawyer.’

  ‘Anna?’

  ‘Oh, well, I’m just, um, just between jobs.’ Anna fidgeted in the plastic chair. ‘And Valda thought it might give me something to do with my days.’

  Anna felt the women watching her. She was relieved when the woman next to her took up the conversation. She was young and eager to get as much experience as she could. Another one was from a church group and her minister had urged her to come.

  When the remaining women had told their stories, Claire suggested they take a break to do a tour of the showroom, which was in the other unit across the landing.

  Claire led them to the kitchenette at the back alongside a curtained-off area that served as the changing rooms.

  ‘Women go into these change-rooms and come out in different clothes, with more confidence and a better future ahead of them,’ said Claire. ‘If we are busy, we can also use the kitchenette as a fitting room. Then we can accommodate four women at a time.’

  Alice stayed to speak to a volunteer stylist about arranging for a client to talk to the group, while the others left the showroom.

  ‘Let’s recap what we discussed this morning,’ Claire said to the group when they had resumed their positions at the table in the training room. ‘This is the mission of Suitability. The key terms are disadvantage and economic independence.’

  She rushed through the sections on the structure of the organisation, the services provided, and occupational health and safety. After a pause, she asked the women if they were all comfortable, and when they said yes, she addressed them again.

  ‘Style. What is it we think about when we talk about style?’

  ‘Elegance and presentability,’ said Valda.

  ‘Comfort and serviceability,’ said Rosemary.

  ‘What’s right for you,’ whispered Anna.

  ‘What was that, Anna?’

  ‘I said, what’s right for you.’

  ‘Exactly. It’s all about what is the right style for a particular client, given their shape and the position they are going for.’ Claire gave Anna an appraising look.

  ‘We have clients from all walks of life, all ages and all shapes and sizes,’ Claire continued. ‘The challenge is to work out what will suit them from the clothes we have in stock.’

  ‘How do you do that?’ asked Rosemary.

  ‘I’m glad you asked,’ said Claire. ‘I have two strategies. They are separates and shape. The two S’s, as shown in this slide which my daughter, Lauren, helped to design. “Separates” mean a client can mix and match the clothes you give them. So, I try to find one piece which fits and looks good – a skirt or pants. Then I match it with a jacket for office work and a blouse. Once we have a basic outfit, we can add accessories such as a scarf or jewellery and, if needed, shoes and handbag.’

  ‘What about colour?’ asked Valda.

  ‘For me, that’s the final touch. The next most important thing is shape. Most of you will have seen programs or read books which divide women up into different shapes.’

  Claire handed around several books and showed a slide with an array of images.

  ‘There are fruit-based shapes such as apples and pears. Then there are the shapes most women would prefer to be, the column or the hourglass. And some books have many variations of these.’

  ‘Yes, I read there are sixteen shapes,’ said Valda, who was clearly a column, straight up and down, and could wear almost anything. ‘Elongated pears, short apples.’

  ‘That’s very confusing,’ said Rosemary, who was slim but curved. ‘Why can’t people wear what they want?’

  ‘It doesn’t have to be confusing,’ said Claire. ‘In fact, once you know the secret, it makes it much easier to find the right clothes. It’s not about hiding part of the body, but about creating a balance. The most useful thing I learnt was to think of a body as two triangles stacked with the pointy end in the middle. When the triangles are the same size, it looks balanced, no matter how large the triangles are. That’s what we call the hourglass and it’s what we aim for in dressing: the balance.’

  Claire put on a slide showing different-sized triangles.

  ‘If your top is larger than your bottom, so to speak, you are like an inverted triangle. You will need to minimise the top, create a waist and maximise the bottom. See how this deep V-neckline breaks up the top area and makes the neck look longer? These wide-legged pants with a flat front provide the balance.’

  Claire paused. Anna relaxed, having realised how simple the approach was.

  ‘And vice versa. The one with the large triangle on the base is usually called the pear shape. You try to minimise the bottom, create a waist and provide balance with a fuller top. See how this blouse broadens the shoulders and this A-line skirt slims the lower half? And that’s fundamentally it.’

  ‘That’s it?’

  ‘Well, it’s enough to start with. We provide more styling workshops for our volunteers, but if you start with the notion that it’s all about shape, it’ll help you enormously.’

  Each of the group stood up one at a time, and had the others guess their shape. Generally, they were accurate. Anna was told she was an hourglass and her classic style of fitted tops and straight pants was best for her shape.

  ‘I leave detailed discussion of shapes and measuring of bodies to the more advanced workshop. At this stage, you only need enough to think laterally about the clothing you can offer. That’s how I began.’

  Alice told the group she had a client who was willing to talk to them. She left the room for a moment and returned with a woman who looked shyly at the group.

  ‘This is Li. She was referred to us by an English language program for newly arrived migrants. Could you tell the group your story?’

  ‘I come to Australia with my husband,’ Li said quietly with an accent. ‘He is a manager and his company send him here.’

  Anna poured Li a glass of water.

  ‘At first we are happy. But then I am losing my baby. My husband is working late and he is going out with his new Australian workmates.’ She paused. ‘One night he is coming home drunk, first time he is coming home drunk, I am saying, “Why are you coming home drunk?”, and he is angry with me.’

  Li took a sip of water.

  ‘It is happening once a week. He is going to the casino and not having money for me and money to send his family in China. Leaving is not possible. I am having no family, no friends in Australia. No money.’ Li dabbed her eyes with a tissue. ‘I am needing a job. I am having skills, but my English not good enough. I am going to language program. Now I am needing clothes for interviews.’

  ‘Thank you, Li,’ said Claire. ‘That was really helpfu
l. Have you found suitable clothes today?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Li smiled.

  ‘That was a great example of the issues you will face here,’ said Claire when Li and Alice had left. ‘Li is clearly employable, as many of our clients are. The right clothing and support mean she will have a strong chance of getting work.’

  *

  When Anna put the key into the garage door of her townhouse, she heard Rufus whimpering on the other side of the roller door. This was the dog she hadn’t planned for or wanted, but hadn’t been able to bring herself to return to Valda.

  The garage door rumbled and Rufus sped past her legs and onto the street. It took a few moments for her to register what had happened. She put the car into the garage, grabbed her bag and set off down the street. She looked in the front yards of the block of townhouses on her side of the street. Each yard was a mirror image of the next. There was no way for Rufus to get into the backyards of any of them.

  Anna crossed the street to the side where the older houses remained. Most had been renovated since she’d moved into her townhouse. These houses had an array of gardens, many had no fences and there were plenty of nooks and crannies where Rufus could hide.

  ‘Rufus,’ she now called. ‘Rufus, where are you? Come, Rufus, come.’

  Anna couldn’t find Rufus anywhere on the street. What if he was gone, or worse, had been hurt? She raced to the end of the street. Across the road was the path that led to the canal and the park. Anna couldn’t bear to think what would happen if Rufus went into the canal. She stood at the corner, trying to decide whether to cross the road or to follow the path to the next street.

  ‘Is this your dog?’ Anna turned to see a man approaching her with two Australian terriers, one on a leash and the other in his arms. ‘He seems to have taken a shine to my dog. This is Penny.’

  ‘Oh, Rufus, you naughty dog,’ Anna was surprised at the rush of relief she felt as she reached out to put a leash on Rufus.

  ‘My name’s Ted,’ the man smiled as he handed over the panting dog.

  ‘Thank you so much, Ted. I’m Anna.’

 

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