Fashion Academy Page 5

  “Aren’t you afraid the paparazzi will stalk you if you’re not incognito?” South asked.

  “It doesn’t bother you, does it?” Mickey asked her. “Your father is famous.”

  “But he’s a rap singer, not the king of Finland!” Gabriel pointed out. “That’s what I heard. Is it true? Are you Princess Mickey?”

  Mickey had to giggle. It was amazing how quickly rumors spread and the facts became twisted, like a game of telephone with each person distorting the original message even more.

  “It’s Kenzie. Not Mickey,” she said. “And I’m not supposed to talk about my personal life.”

  “Not even with your friends?” South continued. “You can trust us!”

  “Ahn-tehk-see,” Mickey said with a sigh. “I’m sorry. Rules are rules.”

  Even Mr. Kaye looked shocked when he walked in and spied Mickey’s style transformation.

  “Miss Williams?” he asked, putting his glasses on to get a better look. “I didn’t recognize you.”

  Mickey hoped her teacher wasn’t disappointed—he was the one who loved her creativity, and now she looked like just another Jade wannabe. “I just thought it was time for a change,” she tried to explain. “Time to show everyone the real me, Kenzie Wills.”

  Mr. Kaye raised an eyebrow. “And you’re sure this is the real you?”

  Mickey nodded. “Uh-huh. I think so.”

  “Then you should appreciate your next fashion challenge assignment.” He walked to the SMART Board and drew a 2 on it.

  “Oh boy. Here it comes.” Gabriel groaned.

  “The theme is ‘Everything Old Is New Again.’ I would like you to take an item of clothing from another era and rework it so it feels fresh and modern.”

  “Where do we get the old outfit?” South asked.

  “That’s part of the challenge,” their teacher explained. “Finding your inspiration.”

  For Mickey, the answer was simple: the flea market she and her mom loved to browse on Sunday mornings would have tons of vintage clothes.

  “Your budget is twenty dollars. Good luck and good designing!”

  • • •

  At lunch, Jade practically threw her brother on the floor to make room next to her for Mickey.

  “Sit here,” she ushered her over. “It’s the fashionista table.”

  Mickey slid in beside her and nibbled on her salad.

  “So, what’s Finnish Fashion Week like?” Jade asked her. “I go to Paris, Barcelona, and Milan every year with my mother, but I’ve never been to Finland.”

  “Oh, you know. Runways, supermodels, queens and kings and stuff,” Mickey said, pretending to yawn. “It’s rather boring.”

  “Boring?” South gasped. “It sounds awesome. Can I go with you next time?”

  Jade kicked her under the table.

  “Ow!” South yelped. “You stabbed me with your stiletto!”

  “If Kenzie is going to take anyone with her to Finnish Fashion Week, it’s me,” Jade said. “After all, fashion royalty should stick together, agreed?”

  Mickey had to think fast. “Um, sorry. My dad has a very large staff and a very small private jet. No room for any extras on the flight to Helsinki.”

  “Oh! That’s okay,” Jade volunteered. “My mom has her own private jet too. I could just meet you there. Save me a seat in the front row?”

  Mickey looked over at JC, who was sitting with Gabriel at another table. “Help me!” she mouthed.

  “So, Kenzie,” Jade said, putting an arm around her shoulder. “My mother is having a small get-together at her Madison Avenue boutique tomorrow night for a few VIP clients. I’d love for you to come. What do you say?”

  Mickey couldn’t believe it! She was invited to an exclusive Bridget Lee party! But she’d promised her mom she’d come home to Philly for the weekend.

  “I’d love to, but unfortunately, I have to hit the thrift shops and flea markets,” Mickey said.

  Jade’s cheeks flushed red. “You what? Are you turning me down? To go shopping at Goodwill?”

  “Sis, you’ve been dissed!” Jake chuckled. “Nice one, Kenzie!”

  Mickey tried to backpedal. “No! I’m not dissing you, Jade. Really! I have this Apparel Arts assignment, and we’re suppose to turn something old into something new and fab.”

  Jade’s face softened. “Well, why didn’t you say so? I know this amazing little resale shop down in the Village that has vintage Chanel, Gucci, Pucci. I’ll take you there Saturday morning!”

  Mickey tried to smile. How was she going to explain breaking her promise to her mom and Annabelle this weekend? And how was she ever going to keep up this masquerade?

  “Hold on! Let me get this straight,” JC shouted at Mickey over the phone. “Jadezilla is your new BFF?”

  Mickey had called him immediately after school to give a recap of how her fellow FABers had reacted to her makeover.

  “Well, she wants to take me shopping Saturday. I’m not sure what I’m going to tell my mom. She was counting on me to come home for the weekend.”

  “Just because Jade snaps her fingers doesn’t mean you have to come running,” he replied.

  “I can’t turn her down. She’ll hate me all over again,” Mickey reminded him.

  JC sighed. “You’re right. The show must go on. Call your mom and tell her you have a group project to work on and you can’t get away. She’ll understand.”

  “This is all your fault, you know,” Mickey said. “It was your idea to make me fit in at FAB. Now Jade wants me to take her to Finnish Fashion Week!”

  JC chuckled. “What can I say? I’m just too good for my own good.”

  • • •

  Once she convinced her mom that she needed to stay in the city—and swore she’d make it up to her next weekend—Mickey made plans to meet up with Jade and her mother’s personal assistant Saturday morning. She was about to put on a pair of purple Dr. Martens and some paisley leggings with a black mesh sweater when she remembered what JC had told her: “Less is more.” So instead, she chose a simple pair of jeans, a white tank, and a black pleather cropped jacket. She had to hunt in the back of her closet to actually find a pair of sneakers that matched, but finally located two black Converse.

  “That’s an interesting jacket,” Jade said, feeling the sleeve as Mickey climbed into her limo. “Is it Prada?”

  Mickey thought quickly. “No. It’s a Finnish designer you’ve probably never heard of.”

  “Try me,” Jade challenged her. “I know everything about couture. Right, Tinsley?”

  The young assistant nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, of course, Miss Lee.”

  Mickey felt bad for the young woman. She couldn’t think of a worse job than having to babysit Jade on a weekend.

  “So what vintage store are we hitting?” Mickey tried to change the subject. “I’m sure you know all the best ones.”

  Jade grinned. “Of course I do. I thought we’d go to Retro Rags.”

  They piled out of the car, and Jade handed Tinsley her tote bag to carry.

  “You still didn’t tell me who designed your jacket,” Jade reminded Mickey. “Friends shouldn’t have any secrets.”

  “Um, his name is…” Mickey looked around the crowded downtown streets, trying to think of something, anything that Jade wouldn’t instantly see through as a lie. Her eyes landed on a coffee and doughnut truck parked on the corner.

  “Donutto. His name is Otto Donutto,” she improvised.

  “Oh, of course!” Jade fibbed. “I’ve heard of him. He’s mega famous in fashion circles. I think my mom had dinner with him a few months ago.”

  Mickey breathed a sigh of relief. “Yeah, he’s big.”

  “You think you could get him to send me some of his pieces?” Jade asked, putting an arm around Mickey. “Pretty please? They’
re so unique.”

  Mickey chuckled to herself. She wasn’t about to tell Jade that she’d gotten the jacket on sale at Wanamaker’s for sixteen dollars. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  When they walked into Retro Rags on West Broadway, Jade made a beeline for the racks of couture dresses.

  “Do you see what I see?” she asked Mickey, pulling out a lavender cashmere halter-top dress.

  Mickey knew it at first glance. “Halston from the seventies,” she said. “It’s amazing.”

  “It’s mine!” Jade said, yanking it off the hanger and practically hurling it at Tinsley. “Put this on Mommy’s charge.”

  Mickey caught a glimpse of the nine-hundred-and-fifty- dollar price tag and gasped.

  “I know. It’s a steal, don’t ya think?” Jade asked. She piled another three dresses on the frazzled assistant: a Chanel pink knit, a navy Alaïa, and a black Versace safety-pin mini that the store clerk swore Lady Gaga had worn.

  “Do you see anything you like for your Apparel Arts project?” Jade asked her.

  There was plenty that Mickey liked in the store—hundreds of stunning looks that dated back as far as the 1920s. But there was nothing on those racks that she could afford.

  “We can’t go over twenty dollars for our budget.” She remembered Mr. Kaye’s warning. “So I don’t think any of these will work.”

  Suddenly, she spied a collection of vintage rock T-shirts hanging over the counter. One looked familiar.

  “Can I see that?” Mickey asked the store clerk, pointing to a black one with a gold compass design on it. It read “The Pioneers.”

  “That is so ugly,” Jade sniffed. “Who ever heard of that band anyway?”

  “I have,” Mickey said, tracing the logo with her fingertips. “How much is it?”

  “For you? Five bucks,” the clerk replied. “No one’s ever come in here asking for a Pioneers tour shirt.”

  Mickey smiled and handed him the money.

  It may not have been a designer label with a thousand-dollar price tag, but to her it was priceless.

  When it came to design challenge number two, Mickey wanted to make sure that this time her design didn’t stink like sour cabbage again. So she called JC and asked him over to toss around some ideas. She laid out the rock tee on her kitchen table and studied it from every angle.

  “So what are you going to do with it?” JC asked her. “I mean, it’s a pretty boring shirt.”

  “It’s not boring. It’s very rare,” Mickey defended her choice. “It’s my dad’s band.”

  “Oh,” JC said softly. “Sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “It’s okay,” Mickey said. She wasn’t going to allow herself to get all sentimental over it. But she did think it had great potential for her project. She whipped out her sketchbook and began to draw. “I’m thinking of cutting the shirt down into a V-neck and replacing the cap sleeves with bat wings…”

  JC watched as her pencil whipped across the page in a series of bold, black strokes. “What are you thinking for the bottom?”

  “Definitely long. Maybe fringe? Maybe a train?”

  “A train would be really dramatic and cutting edge,” JC agreed with her. “What are you going to use for the fabric?”

  Since she’d already spent five dollars on the shirt, that left a mere fifteen dollars for the maxi skirt and long sleeves—not to mention the studs she’d drawn in at the waist. “The compass and logo on the shirt is yellow. Maybe a yellow dupioni silk? Something with a bit of a sheen that would pop?”

  “That fabric isn’t cheap,” JC pointed out. “I think you might have to reconsider.”

  Just then, Aunt Olive came into the kitchen.

  “I couldn’t help overhearing,” she said. “I’m trained to hear the mating call of the yellow-bellied sapsucker a mile away. I know exactly where you can get that fabric for free.”

  “You do? Where?” Mickey asked excitedly.

  “The curtains in your bedroom. You said you didn’t like them anyway. I guess it’s okay if you want to cut them up if it’s for your homework.”

  “Oh, Aunt Olive! They would be perfect. Are you sure you don’t mind?” She threw her arms around her aunt and hugged her.

  “It’s fine. It’s fine,” Olive squirmed. “I figure if you’re brave enough to make some changes, I can too. What do you think of repainting your bedroom orange?”

  • • •

  When presentation day arrived, Mickey carried her dress to FAB in a simple black garment bag.

  “Is that it? Is that your design?” South whispered when she spotted her in the hallway. “Did your dad help you with it?”

  “No!” Mickey insisted. “I did it myself.” Then she remembered who she was supposed to be. “But I always think to myself, ‘What would Daddy do?’”

  South nodded. “That’s really cool.”

  “What did you make?” Mars asked as she followed Mickey up the stairs to class. “Mine is so boring. I bet yours is something really special.”

  “I guess,” Mickey replied. “I mean, I worked really hard on it.”

  In the studio, she carefully pinned her dress to her dress form and checked that there were no crooked seams or dropped stitches. She looked around the room at the pieces her classmates had made. Mars had reshaped a seventies wrap dress into a simple crop top that tied at the waist and fashioned matching hot pants from the rest of the material. South’s design was a denim mini made out of an old pair of jeans, and Gabriel had morphed a pair of men’s khaki pants (“borrowed” from his dad’s closet!) into a military-style jacket with epaulets on the shoulders.

  When Mr. Kaye came to her dress form, he pushed his glasses to the tip of his nose and stared. “I’m speechless,” he said.

  Mickey held her breath. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing till Gabriel gave her a thumbs-up.

  “The workmanship is flawless,” her teacher continued as he circled around her design. “Extremely avant-garde. I’m reminded of early Alexander McQueen! I’ve never seen anything like it in any of my classes. I’m eager to hear what your inspiration was.”

  “It all started with the Pioneers logo,” Mickey explained. “It really spoke to me. This was a small band that traveled all over the country in the nineties trying to make a name for themselves. I wanted my dress to reflect movement, so I split the skirt into three pieces—and the yellow color just felt bright, optimistic, and hopeful. Like the band’s lead singer, who really believed he could change the face of music.”

  Mr. Kaye nodded. “It sounds like you did a great deal of research. Excellent work, Kenzie.”

  • • •

  Mickey couldn’t wait to find JC in the cafeteria and tell him the news.

  “What was the verdict?” he asked as she raced over to his table.

  “He loved it. He gave me a four plus.”

  “Are you kidding me?” JC gasped. “No one gets a four plus in Kaye’s class. I doubt even Bridget Lee herself would get a four plus. Mickey, you did it!”

  Mickey felt like she was walking on air. Nothing could bring her down, not even Jade strolling over to their table.

  “I hear FAB has a new fashion star.” She smiled sweetly. “Congrats, Kenzie.”

  “Um, thanks,” Mickey said. “That’s really nice of you, Jade.”

  “Of course it is!” Jade smiled brightly.

  “I guess FAB has a new fashion diva, and it’s not La Lee,” JC teased her.

  The smile vanished from Jade’s face. “What do you mean?”

  “I just mean that Mickey is giving you a run for your money,” he replied. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she won Runway Showdown this semester.”

  Jade gritted her teeth. “I’m going to win Showdown,” she said.

  “Ya think?” JC mocked her. “I wouldn’t be too sure about t
hat.”

  Jade turned to Mickey. “Let’s be clear: there’s only room for one design diva here, and that’s me. You got lucky this time—thanks to me taking you shopping. You’re welcome!”

  She turned on her wedge heel and strutted back to her table of minions.

  “She’s delusional,” JC said. Then he noticed Mickey’s worried look. “You okay?”

  Mickey shook off Jade’s nasty dig and tried to remind herself that she had won this fashion challenge all by herself and wowed her teacher. Her design was great, and no one could take that away from her.

  “I’m more than okay,” she said. “I’m just getting started.”

  “Earth to Mickey? Come in, Mickey!” her mom said, waving a plate of chocolate chip waffles under her nose. She placed a tall glass of chocolate milk next to it. “It’s not like you to let your favorite breakfast get cold.”

  Mickey sighed. “Sorry, Mom. I was just thinking.”

  Her mother pulled up a chair at the kitchen table next to her. “Okay. Spill. What’s bugging you?”

  Mickey didn’t know where to begin. When she came home this weekend to Philly, all she could think about was her Apparel Arts final challenge. Mr. Kaye was going to reveal the theme on Monday, and she’d have only a month to design and construct it.

  “I just really want to show everyone I belong at FAB,” she said quietly.

  “Of course you belong!” her mother insisted. “You’ve been getting straight As in all of your classes. I couldn’t be prouder!”

  Mickey nodded. When she told her mom about the four plus on her fashion design, she left out the part about her masquerading as “Kenzie Wills” to win everyone over. What would her mom say if she knew that she was lying every day?

  “I know what would cheer you up! Let’s hit the flea market,” her mom said, sipping her coffee.

  Mickey nodded. “I could use a few new outfits for school,” she said. “Maybe some cashmere sweaters…”

  Her mom nearly spit out her coffee. “Cashmere sweaters? Since when do you like cashmere sweaters? Your taste has certainly changed since you started at that school. What happened to the girl who made her own patchwork pants out of some old tablecloths?”