The Gift of Fashion

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The Gift of Fashion Page 4

by Taki Drake


  Courteously taking the tray from the woman, Nicholas placed it on the studio table. Even though Genevieve could tell that he desperately wanted to dive into the cookies, the old man turned back to the shy woman and thanked her again.

  Slightly overwhelmed by his compliments, the woman removed the cover, and an amazing tray of cookies was revealed. The previous platter had displayed delectable ones that were attractively finished, but these were even more incredible. Each cookie was a work of art. Icing decorated with little animals of spun sugar, layered macaroons that seemed to sparkle with light, they tempted both the eye and sense of smell.

  Genevieve and Nicholas were enthralled. Drawn closer by the attraction of the intriguing smells and the unbelievable craftsmanship that went into the cookies, they almost bumped heads over the platter. Pulling back in just the last second, they both looked up in unison and smiled at each other before returning to peruse the objects of their culinary lust.

  Chapter 7 – Measure of the Man

  “Madame, might I suggest that we get the measurements portion of our process out of the way before the two of you get lost in the cookie selection?” Henri’s voice was the perfect tone for a valued subordinate to suggest something that his boss had forgotten. Genevieve smiled in appreciation and felt Doucet chuckling across the companion bond.

  “Thank you, Henri. You’re right this is a good time to get measurements. I’m sure that Nicholas and I can hold off a short while, which is all it will take to obtain his measurements and prepare the area for our design and construction phases.”

  Turning to Nicholas, Genevieve explained, saying, “Our process is well tested and thorough. It is very similar to the basic steps that I used in a previous job for many years. Would you like a quick overview, or should we just begin?”

  The old man had been looking increasingly nervous, but something the Clothier said reassured him. Sighing a little bit, Nicholas said gratefully, “If it isn’t too much trouble, I would really like to know what the whole process entails. I find that I’m nervous, which surprises me.”

  Genevieve laughed, pleased with his response. She started to take him on a tour of the facility, one that she thought should have been done before. As the woman walked around, she was conscious of her pride in the studio and terribly grateful that she had cleaned and straightened before taking off for the BHB.

  As she walked, she talked, “We will begin by having you go into the measuring rooms in the back. Henri will accompany you and will be the person who measures you. As he does, he will call out the numbers, and they will be captured on our atelier forms. We try to be conscious of people’s dignity, but the necessity of accurate measurements cannot be overstressed.”

  Yoko chimed in, saying, “If the measurements are not correct, all the work that we put into creating perfect garments for you will be for naught.”

  Nicholas nodded his head in agreement but didn’t say anything. He and the Clothier continued to walk around the room as she pointed to the area where they would be doing some additional design work, converting sketches into more complete drawings. Genevieve said, “Even though I no longer need the sketches to manually create the patterns, I still find comfort in having a record of what the concept was for the garments that I’m designing and that we are producing.”

  Chuckling sounds erupted out of Nicholas, and the old man turned and beamed at her. His expression was approving. She felt a warm glow at his acceptance of what she had said, as well as gratitude for the lack of ridicule. He remarked, “I know exactly what you mean. Most of the time, I don’t need a roadmap to get to the places I need to deliver something. I used to, many years ago, but now the pathways are ingrained in my memory. However, I always draw them out anyway. There is some comfort in having a tangible record of something you’re going to do. Especially when it becomes a historical item that says what you have done.”

  Stopping by one of the floor-to-ceiling shelving cabinets, the Clothier waved her hand to encompass the supplies in her studio. Nicholas could hear the fondness in her voice, mixed with pride, as the woman said, “Sometimes we can just pull fabrics and trims that we already have. Other times they need to be fetched. But having so many of them here where we can all see the possibilities helps to spark our creativity even more.”

  Genevieve continued, saying, “Once the design is set and fixed in my mind, we pull fabrics. If we have the right material, we go on to the next step. Otherwise, it is summoned, and then we go to construction.”

  Isaac rumbled from over in the corner, “That is the fun part. Sometimes Madame will construct something entirely with magic, other times magic and physical work are mixed. Either way, the creation is a joyful event, something that we all love.”

  Finishing up the tour of the large, airy studio, Genevieve smiled once more at Nicholas, and said, “Of course, when the garments are completed then you will try them on. So beginning to end there are very few steps. We’ve learned how to move through the process quickly. Do you have any questions for me?”

  Nicholas shook his head no, before adding, “I may later on, but for right now I’m ready to get started.”

  Genevieve laughed, and said, “I’m going to have you go into the rooms in the back and Henri will take care of measuring you. As he does, we will capture the measurements on our forms. The first time through this, it may be startling, but pretty soon you’ll be an old pro.”

  Nicholas’ laugh floated back over his shoulder as he followed Henri to the back measuring area. His voice grew fainter as he walked, but Genevieve could clearly hear, “I am sure it will be a learning experience!”

  << <> >>

  For a short time, less than 15 minutes, Henri called out measurements for the Clothier. Well practiced at this point with the tools available in her studio, Genevieve kept a supervising eye on the sheet of tough film that slid up from her cutting table. As rapidly as the tape measure called out the numbers, they were recorded on the permanent record, underneath Nicholas’ name and the strange series of numbers that she still didn’t understand.

  Smiling in satisfaction, the Clothier watched as the detailed measurements appeared in neat columns without her having to write a thing. Her delight with this efficient method of collecting measurements was evident in her expression and posture. Keeping her attention focused on the sheet, the woman’s smile reflected her anticipation of some upcoming event.

  When the first “Eeeep!” emerged from the fitting room, Genevieve threw her head back and laughed. It never failed to happen, irrespective of the client. It had become so predictable that she and her crew would estimate when the first sound would emerge.

  << <> >>

  Nicholas emerged from the fitting rooms looking only a little shaky. Genevieve was pleased to see that he was carrying Henri companionably wrapped around his wrist. Some of her clients didn’t respond well to the idea of a sentient tape measure, especially one that talked. Many of the rough and tough mercenaries that had come in for their armor fitting had all but crawled out of the back room after their measuring session. From that point on, they wouldn’t even look at Henri.

  The Clothier had been first amused and then had become offended on behalf of her loyal assistant. He was just doing his job and didn’t deserve to be ostracized for doing it well and thoroughly. Madrik, the Anchor of the BHB, had tried to tell her that everyone had experiences with which they didn’t cope well. That hadn’t convinced her at all.

  Feeling a dangerous rise in her anger, the Clothier had looked straight at Madrik’s face and said flatly, “I will not tolerate abuse of anyone around me. I suffered too many years of it myself.”

  The shock on his face told Genevieve that she had misunderstood what he was trying to say. Unsure of how to go on, she had just stared at him in return. Luckily, Vincent, the assistant bouncer, had chosen to stop by their table in the taproom at just that moment. Easing his body into a chair, he began to translate for the two of them.

  Gently, he said, “Ge
nevieve, Madrik was not suggesting that you tolerate abuse. What he was trying to tell you is that those mercenaries were ashamed. They make their living by being strong and courageous. The fact that your tape measure was capable of almost sending them fleeing in terror is more than they can assimilate at one point in time.”

  Vincent showed the trauma of his life in every movement he made and the scars on his face. She knew that he understood how someone who had been abused would react.

  Genevieve had immediately felt embarrassed herself. How could she have so badly misunderstood Madrik. When she tried to explain to both of them, her explanation came out all garbled, and she ended up crying. Which of course upset both of them.

  Finally, over a restorative glass of wine, they got it all sorted out. From that point on, Genevieve tried to not laugh too obviously when the mercenaries were frightened of Henri. There was no need to shame them either.

  Yanking her wandering mind back to the process, Genevieve said to Nicholas, “I hope you’ve worked up an appetite. I’ve been out here smelling these cookies the whole time you guys have been lazing around in the back. You have been torturing me, and I really want to try out some of these cookies.”

  Nicholas brightened immediately saying, “I can’t believe I forgot about the cookies!”

  Chapter 8 – New Choices

  Genevieve chose a cookie that looked like a coconut nest with a flying chocolate bird that was just settling on it. Staring at it for a moment, she felt Doucet peering over her shoulder and heard his delighted voice say, << I almost expected the bird to start singing. I wish I could taste it because it is so perfect looking. My curiosity is close to killing me, because I want to know if the taste is as impressive as the visual presentation. >>

  << I never thought about that, Doucet. If you can look through my eyes, why can’t you share the sensation of taste? >>

  The Clothier felt a stab of surprise at her question from Doucet, followed by the impression of inward contemplation. Slowly, he responded, << I never thought to try that. >>

  << Well, try tasting this! >>

  Genevieve slowly crunched through the cookie, and her mouth exploded with textures and flavors. The exterior crunch of the toasted coconut and the creamy interior of the nest was a perfect base for the chocolate bird and its intriguing mixtures of flavors and textures. The body of the bird had a hazelnut enveloped by a creamy filling, while the wings contained a bright raspberry jam. The tempered chocolate that formed the external shape of the bird was the perfect unifying taste.

  Even as the Clothier was lost in the overwhelmingly rich experience of the cookie, she could feel Doucet’s joy and pleasure resonating along their bond. The two of them hung in a moment of time where their shared experience created harmony between them, strengthening and building depth of their friendship.

  Finally, the Clothier came back to the moment to realize that conversation had been swirling around her while she was occupied. Nicholas and the Baker had been talking as he sampled cookies. His obvious admiration for her skills was drawing her out, and his courteous manner encouraged her to confide.

  “I’m baking in the building that’s here, even though it seems to be abandoned. It’s too bad because it feels empty and somehow sad. When Star Child Grace came by to tell me that you needed more cookies, I asked her why the building was so sad. She told me that it is half alive and that it needs an Anchor to wake up the rest of the way.”

  “Yes, I knew that each of the buildings needs to have an Anchor, but all of them draw start-up energy from the main building which is the BHB. When he has enough to initiate another building bond, the selected building searches for their Anchor.”

  “Perhaps I am helping it by baking in it. It deserves to be not alone. It is not fun to be by oneself for a long time.” The woman’s voice dropped with remembered pain and the echoes of extended isolation reverberated in the room.

  Nicholas put a comforting hand on her forearm gently. He said, “I know.”

  Startled, the Baker raised her head and looked him in the face, and for one timeless moment, they stared at each other. A wealth of conversation seemed to sizzle back and forth between the two of them before they both looked away simultaneously.

  Genevieve broke the suddenly awkward silence by telling the Baker that Najeer desperately wanted to meet her. The woman flushed slightly but smiled as the Clothier said, “He told everyone in the BHB that there was no way that he could bake as well as you do. Madrik was quite impressed at that admission because Najeer is a wizard in the kitchen!”

  “I would be pleased to meet him, but there is so much more I have to learn about baking.”

  The Baker suddenly covered her mouth with her hand and said, “Oh, no! I’m very sorry to run, but I have something in the oven that should be coming out very soon. It was lovely, oh so lovely to talk to you and I’m sure we will talk again soon. Goodbye!”

  Turning, the woman took off at a fast run, disappearing so quickly that the Clothier and Nicholas were left looking after her in astonishment. Turning back to the old man, Genevieve was surprised to see that his belly was noticeably larger again. << There must be some sort of magic that makes him put on the weight so fast when he eats the cookies, >> said Doucet.

  Genevieve agreed and quietly suggested to Henri that he might want to recheck the waist measurements for Nicholas. The old man was quite agreeable as soon as he found out that they could measure him out in the workroom and he didn’t have to return to that scary room in the back.

  Nicholas stood up and held his arms out to his side so Henri could slip around his waist. Henri started to check the measurement but found that somehow in less than a half-hour Nicholas’ middle had expanded to the point that the tape measure’s normal length couldn’t encircle it.

  Huffing and puffing, Henri tried to stretch and span the gap. That didn’t work. Sighing a dramatic exhalation of air, Henri said, “Please give me just a moment. I haven’t had to do this more than once, and I need to remember how.”

  His voice had been quite dramatic when he asked for space to do what was needed, they all quieted and watched intently as Henri stretched his length out on the worktable. There was a dim shimmer of purple light that slid up and down his length multiple times. Each repetition his size increased until by the time he stopped, obviously exhausted, he had gained half again his original span.

  Picking her assistant up in both hands, Genevieve was concerned. “Are you all right? Tell me if there’s something you need.”

  “I am just a little tired, Madame. This is something that I don’t do every day.”

  The Clothier was only semi-convinced as to his well-being. Watching him carefully, she saw his shakiness disappear as he remeasured Nicholas’ waist.

  His new length was more than enough to get the job done. Genevieve was convinced that Henri sounded more assured as if the extra span had increased his confidence as well as his dimension.

  The film with Nicholas’ measurements once again appeared on the top surface of her worktable and was amended to the correct metric. Doucet told her, <> The Clothier was amused but needed to reassure Nicholas.

  Nicholas looked a bit shamefaced. “I didn’t mean to eat that many cookies,” he began. “It’s just that they taste and smell so good!”

  Genevieve looked around at her assistants before responding to the old man saying, “Nicholas, we don’t mind. All of us want the best for you, and if cookies are the way that you find joy, then we will help find you cookies.”

  Henri added, “Do not worry, my friend. It does me no harm to grow, and I probably should have done some alteration before. You just gave me an incentive.”

  With a broad grin that indicated he’d been waiting for such an opening, Nicholas said, “So what you’re telling me is that I gave you an excuse to be a grownup?”

  The groans in t
he room were unanimous.

  Nicholas said cheerfully, “I can already see that people are reacting to me differently after my hair and beard got cleaned up. The way that they feel when I talk to them is different!”

  With a low reverberation from his gears, Isaac said, “It’s because you look more approachable now. You look like a generally happy, jolly sort of fellow instead of someone who is scary. I know that I have to be careful on how fast I move my gears because if I move them too quickly, people think I’m broken, or they get frightened of the loud sounds that I make.”

  Nicholas nodded his head, and said, “What you’re telling me is the more I get myself into a happy frame of mood, the better my reception is going to be by people who don’t know me.”

  “Yes, I believe that’s true. So perhaps we should have you practice feeling joyful and jolly.”

  Yoko chimed in at that point, suggesting, “A mantra of some form would be good, but not the humming kind. You need something that’s going to let your whole body express your joy.”

  The old Singer machine suggested, “How about if we have you practice a belly laugh. It comes from the core of your body and whenever I hear one it makes me feel happy and joyful. That way you can share your emotion with the people around you.”

  Nicholas looked a little unsure, but he was willing to try. The entire group in the Clothier’s studio got involved with various suggestions for phrases and posture. They went back and forth with Nicholas trying out each one to see how effective it was. Finally, they selected a combination of one of Genevieve’s choices of posture and Isaac’s idea for the phrase.

  Standing upright, slightly leaned back with his hands on the belt circling his waist, Nicholas ventured, “Ho, ho, ho.”

  “With more feeling!” “Put some air into it.”

 

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