He opened the sewing room door, and a young brunette woman stepped inside. She was dressed in one of the latest Fashion House gowns: an iridescent taffeta dress with a huge skirt. A dramatic hat with three giant plumes protruding from the brim sat atop her head.
“Hello, ladies,” she said, smiling. “I cannot wait to see what you create for me.”
“You may now ask Lady Harrison questions,” Francesco said.
Ky’s hand shot up.
“What is your vision for your wedding gown?”
“Oh, I definitely want something unique,” Lady Harrison said. Her eyes ran over Ky’s emerald-green dress with its coral lace trim. “But nottoounique. Timeless yet creative.”
“Timeless yet creative,” Ky repeated slowly. I understood her hesitation. That didn’t tell us much.
“Is there any area of your figure that you are a bit self-conscious about?” Alice chimed in. Her usually airy voice was a bit more serious. I’d read a few days ago that one of her sisters had gotten engaged to a lord. A veryoldlord. I’d asked Kitty about it, and she’d told me that Alice was one of five girls, and that their socialite mother was trying to marry them all off—that she’d trained them to have a doll-like manner to attract older, wealthy, and hopefully titled gentlemen.
Alice, though, didn’t sound so breathy today. I understood. If she won a spot at the Fashion House, she wouldn’t have to marry a man the age of a grandfather.
“My hips,” Lady Harrison replied. “I almost always wear A-lines.”
“Any favorite fabrics?” I asked.
“I like light ones.”
“Like chiffon or organza?” I followed up, for clarification.
“Yes. And also heavy ones.”
Across from me, Sophie let out a small exasperated sigh, but I suppressed a smile. I’d come to realize that clients could be confusing. The other girls continued asking questions, but I stared hard at what Lady Harrison was wearing. That would provide more clues to her style than would Lady Harrison herself. Quickly, I jotted down a few notes.
Iridescent taffeta. Statement hat. A-line bordering on ball gown.
“All right, question time is over,” Francesco announced. “Lady Harrison will be back here in three weeks to see the designs and pick her favorite one.”
He held his arm out to Lady Harrison and she took it, waving to us as he escorted her out. Once the door closed behind her, he smiled sympathetically at us.
“This is an example of how challenging it can be to work with a client,” he said. “Half the time, they ask for contradicting things or say one thing and mean quite another.”
“Which is where your skills as designers come in,” Madame Jolène cut in. Unlike Francesco, there was no understanding or sympathy in her eyes. From her position in Madame Jolène’s arms, Calliope yipped, as though to underscore the point. “It is up to you to figure out what is best for her. You will spend the rest of the day sketching, and tomorrow you will go to the Fabric Floor. I suggest you plan your time carefully. Three weeks is more than enough time to make a wedding gown, but with our upcoming events and your Fashion House duties, you will onlyhave four full days to devote to it. Other than that, you will have to find work time around your schedules. You may begin now.”
With that, she swept out of the room, Calliope still tucked under her arm. Francesco and her designers hurried after her.
“Well, that was confusing,” Alice said. Her bottom lip extended in a pout. “What on earth does Lady Harrison want?”
“It’s hardly fair,” Cordelia complained. “How can I translate my menswear-inspired look to a wedding gown? Even if I do, she won’t pick it.”
“I have the same problem,” Ky said. “I hardly doubt she wants something I’d come up with. She wants a traditional Fashion House design.”
“Are you surprised?” Sophie spoke from where she sat on the edge of a sewing table. “We are supposed to be aesthetically distinct but, at the end of the day, we are supposed to fit the Fashion House mold. Our unique styles will only be trotted out during the Fashion House Interview.”
The whole time I’d been here, I’d thought I was the only limited one. But perhaps that was the thing about the Fashion House. The only one who was truly free was Madame Jolène.
I returned to my chamber to sketch—I didn’t dare sketch around the other girls. The last thing I needed was for my sketchbook to get stolen or my designs destroyed again.
I started out sitting in the middle of my bed but then moved to an armchair, turning it to face the window. I stared out, tracing the wispy waves of the clouds with my eyes. Their dreamy shapes floated across the sky and stirred up images inmy mind, thickening to become the comforting fog that always descended on me when I designed. I tried to focus on that and not the worries that darkened my thoughts.
For the first challenge, I’d done something much too safe. For the second, I’d been myself. For this one—which, so far was the most important one—I’d have to figure out a way to blend my style with the Fashion House look.
I knew Lady Harrison wanted an A-line to balance out her figure. But that wasn’t quite right. Her proportions already were balanced. There was no need to cover her up in a huge skirt. In fact, putting her in an overly big skirt would only make her seem fuller. No. The way to go was a slim dress with dramatic folds in the fabric. It would give the impression of a big silhouette without being one.
