Shopaholic to the Stars (5 page)

‘Stop!’ I say, pink with embarrassment. ‘This isn’t the right place. We need to find Gayle, my new boss.’

‘Oh,’ says Danny, unfazed. ‘OK.’

Meanwhile, Anita has reappeared from the dressing room and heads over to Rhona.

‘OK, I’d like to get the black lace dress. And the pink clutch and the sash.’

‘Well, dear,’ says Rhona, her face still pinched with annoyance. ‘If you’re sure. Now, what about this fabulous pink stole? It would set off the black lace wonderfully.’ She reaches for a length of pink tulle adorned with oversized white sequins, and spreads it out on the counter.

Anita glances at me and I surreptitiously shake my head.

‘No thanks,’ she says confidently. Rhona whips round in suspicion, but I give her an innocent smile.

‘We’d better find Gayle,’ I say. ‘See you later, Rhona! Have fun at the prom, Anita!’

As I head away with Danny, I can’t help wrapping an arm around him.

‘Thank you for coming. You’re such a star to do this.’

‘I know,’ he says complacently.

‘I’m going to miss you when you go to Greenland! Couldn’t you have chosen somewhere nearer?’

‘What, some hike in the mountains?’ says Danny dismissively. ‘Some little day trek?’

‘Why not? We would still have sponsored you—’

‘Becky, you don’t get it.’ Danny gives me a serious look. ‘This is something I have to do. I want to push myself to the limit. I have this great trainer, Diederik, and he’s done the Greenland expedition. He says it’s a mystical experience.
Mystical
.’

‘Oh well. Mystical.’ I shrug.

‘Who
buys
these clothes?’ Danny seems to have noticed the racks for the first time.

‘Er … lots of people. Lots of very fashionable, stylish, um … chic people.’

‘Chic?’ He looks at me with a comically appalled face. ‘Chic?’

‘Sssh! There’s my boss!’

We’ve reached the entrance to the Personal Shopping area, where I’ve agreed to meet Gayle, and there she is, looking around anxiously. Maybe she thought I wasn’t going to turn up. She’s a really lovely woman, in her forties – very pretty except her hair’s too long, in my opinion – and I’m looking forward to working with her.

‘Hi!’ I wave to attract her attention.

‘Rebecca.’ She exhales. ‘I was about to call you. This is very awkward. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry …’

She’s about to tell me that Danny still hasn’t come through with his reference, isn’t she?

‘No, it’s fine,’ I say hastily. ‘He’s here! Danny, this is Gayle, my new boss.’ I nudge him. ‘You can start now.’

‘Excuse me?’ Gayle looks baffled.

‘This is Danny Kovitz,’ I explain. ‘He’s come here especially to give you my reference! Go on, Danny.’ I nod encouragingly, and Danny draws breath.

‘My name is Danny Kovitz – yes,
the
Danny Kovitz – thank you – and I am here today to recommend Rebecca Brandon as a personal shopper without parallel. Where there is disaster she will find style. Where there is blah, she will find a look. Where there is … um—’ He breaks off, pulls a piece of paper out of his jeans pocket and consults it. ‘Yes! Where there is misery she will find happiness. Not just fashion happiness, all-round happiness.’ He takes a step towards Gayle, who looks a bit shell-shocked. ‘You
want
Rebecca Brandon in your store. The last person who tried to fire her faced a backlash from the customers, am I right, Becky?’

‘Well.’ I shrug awkwardly, feeling a bit overcome. I had no idea Danny would be so nice about me.

‘You may have heard some strange rumours about Rebecca.’ Danny has gone on to his second sheet of paper. ‘Yes, she once deliberately trapped a customer in a dress. But she had a good reason.’ He hits the paper emphatically. ‘Yes, she’s been known to disguise clothes as sanitary products. But she was helping her clients. Yes, she organized two weddings for the same day and didn’t tell anyone, even her fiancé …’ He peers at the sheet.

‘Danny, shut up!’ I mutter. Why is he bringing all this up?

‘I have no idea why she did that,’ Danny concludes. ‘Let’s ignore that. Let’s focus on the fact that Rebecca is a shining light in any personal shopping department and any store should be glad to have her. Thank you.’ He gives a bow then looks up at Gayle. ‘I’d now be glad to answer any questions, except those about my personal life, my beauty routine and my ongoing lawsuit with my former manager. For those topics I have Q&A sheets.’ He rummages in another pocket and unfolds three lime-coloured sheets of paper, all headed
The Danny Kovitz Story
, which he hands to Gayle.

Gayle gazes at them in stupefied silence, then raises her eyes to me.

‘Rebecca …’ She seems lost for words.

‘I didn’t
mean
to organize two weddings,’ I say defensively. ‘These things happen.’

‘No, no. It’s not that. It’s … Oh, it’s too bad.’ She shuts her eyes. ‘This is all too bad.’

‘What’s too bad?’ I say, with a sudden feeling of foreboding.

‘Rebecca …’ Finally she faces me properly. ‘There’s no job for you.’

‘What?’ I falter.

‘I had a call just now from the group director. He’s been doing a review, and we have to lose some staff.’ She winces. ‘I’m afraid that a personal shopping maternity cover is too great a luxury for us. We’re going to have to get by with just Rhona for now. I would love to hire you, believe me.’ She looks from me to Danny. ‘But in this climate … things are so tough …’

‘It’s OK,’ I say, my voice wobbly with shock. ‘I understand.’

‘I’m sorry. I’m sure you would have been a great addition to the department.’ She looks so sad, I feel a pang of sympathy. What a horrible job, having to fire people.

‘That’s life,’ I say, trying to sound more cheerful. ‘Thanks for the chance, anyway. And maybe I’ll come and work here when things get better!’

‘Maybe. Thanks for being so understanding. I’m afraid I have to go break some more bad news.’ She shakes my hand, then turns and strides away, leaving Danny and me looking blankly at each other.

‘Bummer,’ says Danny at last.

‘I know.’ I sigh heavily. ‘Thanks for the reference, anyway. Can I buy you lunch to say thank you?’

By the time Danny leaves for the airport, two hours later, we’ve had a blast. We’ve done early lunch with cocktails, and a shopping spree for sunblock, and I’ve laughed so hard, my stomach muscles ache. But as I watch his car whisk him away along Beverly Boulevard, there’s a lump of disappointment weighing me down. No job. I was counting on that job. Not just for employment, not just for money – but as something to do. A way to make friends.

Anyway. It’s fine. It’s all good. I’ll think of something else. There are loads of shops in LA, there
must
be opportunities, I’ll just have to keep looking … keep my ears and eyes open.

‘Hey, lady! Watch it!’

Oops. I was so busy thinking about keeping my ears and eyes open, I didn’t notice a great big crane-thing parked slap bang in the middle of the pavement. A man in a headset is directing people around it, and there’s a bit of a buzz further up the street. As I go nearer to get a look, I can see glinting, and lights on stands … Oh wow! It’s a camera crew! They’re filming something!

I know I need to get back to the hotel and prepare for the Ten Miler race, but I
can’t
just walk away. Even though I’ve been to LA before, this is the first camera crew I’ve seen. So I hurry along in excitement, heading towards the bright lights. The pavement is cordoned off with metal barriers and a guy in a denim jacket and a headset is politely asking people to step away, to the other side of the street. Reluctantly, I obey, keeping my eyes fixed on the action. There are two guys in jeans sitting on directors’ chairs, and a burly man operating a camera, and several girls scurrying around with headsets too, looking important. I feel massive pangs of envy as I watch them all. I mean,
how cool
, to be involved in a film. The only kind of filming I’ve ever done was on TV, advising people how to invest their pension. (I used to be a financial journalist. I used to spend all day talking about bank accounts. Sometimes I get an anxiety dream where I’m back in that job and I’m on TV and I don’t even know what an interest rate is.)

Standing on the pavement, all alone, is a woman who I guess is an actress, as she’s so tiny and made-up. I don’t recognize her, but that doesn’t mean anything. I’m just wondering whether to get out my phone, take a picture and text
Who’s this?
to my best friend Suze, when an older woman, in jeans and a black vest, comes up to her. She’s wearing a maroon peaked cap and has long black braids, and the coolest high-heeled boots.

Everyone else in the crowd is pointing at the actress, but I’m riveted by the woman with braids. I know her. I’ve read interviews with her. She’s a stylist called Nenita Dietz.

She’s holding a see-through plastic bag containing a stripy, vintage-looking coat, which she carefully takes out and puts on the actress. She stares critically, adjusts it, then adds a necklace. And as I watch her, my thoughts are suddenly spinning in a new direction. Imagine having that job. Working on films; choosing outfits for actors; styling stars for appearances … Forget department stores, I should aim higher!
That’s
the job I should have. I mean, it’s perfect. I love clothes, I love films, I’m moving to LA … why didn’t I think of this before?

Now Nenita Dietz is trying different pairs of sunglasses out on the actress. I follow every move she makes, utterly mesmerized. Nenita Dietz is amazing. She was behind that trend for boots with evening wear. And she’s starting a line of underwear. I’ve always wanted to design my own underwear.

But how on earth would I get into it? How do you become a top Hollywood stylist? Or even a low-to-medium Hollywood stylist? Where do I even start? I don’t know anyone here, I don’t have a job, I don’t have any film experience …

Now people across the road are shouting, ‘Quiet on set!’ and, ‘Rolling!’ and, ‘QUIET PLEASE!’ I watch in fascination as the actress folds her arms and looks upwards.

‘Cut!’

Cut? That was
it
?

All the film people are scurrying around again and I peer hard, searching for Nenita Dietz, but I can’t see her. And people are starting to press at my back. So at last I tear myself away, my mind whirling with fantasies. A darkened cinema. My name rolling down the screen in white letters.

M
ISS
H
ATHAWAY’S WARDROBE PERSONALLY SELECTED BY
R
EBECCA
B
RANDON

M
R
P
ITT’S SUITS SOURCED BY
R
EBECCA
B
RANDON

M
ISS
S
EYMOUR’S GOWNS CHOSEN BY
R
EBECCA
B
RANDON

And now, of course, it all falls into place in my head. Sage Seymour is the key. Sage Seymour is the answer.
That’s
how I’m going to get in.

FRESH BEAN COFFEE SHOP
1764 Beverly Blvd
Los Angeles, CA 90210

• NOTES AND THOUGHTS •

Possible fashion trends to start:

- Tartan dress with neon PVC accessories

- Fake-fur coat belted with three different belts (Yes! Signature look!)

- Pink hair and distressed pinstripe jacket

- Diamanté brooches pinned to wellies

- Jeans cut up and made into arm warmers

- Carry two designer handbags at once (Yes! Start immediately!)

- Full-length tulle skirt worn over jeans

- Mismatch shoes for quirky, kooky look. (Or will look as though have dementia??)

- Fresh orchids tucked into belt as corsage

- Bracelet made of fresh orchids

- NB: Buy fresh orchids

By 3 p.m., I’m standing in a crowd of runners, formulating a plan for my new career. All I need to do is meet Sage Seymour, start chatting about clothes, offer to style her for an appearance … and I’ll have an in. It’s all about who you know, and Sage Seymour is the perfect person to know. And this is the perfect event to meet her! I mean, I’m actually in her team! I have every reason to talk to her, and I can easily edge the conversation on to red-carpet trends while we’re sprinting along together. I haven’t seen her yet, but my eyes are swivelling around, and I’m poised for action as soon as I spot her.

A bell sounds, and all the runners start pressing more closely together. The cocktails I drank with Danny are starting to creep up on me, and I slightly regret that last Malibu Sunrise now … but never mind. The endorphins will soon kick in.

It’s quite a spectacle, this Ten Miler race. It starts at Dodger Stadium and it goes along Sunset and then on to Hollywood Boulevard. According to the welcome pack, the route ‘passes many Hollywood landmarks’, which is brilliant, because I’ll be able to sightsee as I run! I’ve already checked in, and I can’t believe how many people are doing it. Everywhere I look, I see runners limbering up and jogging and adjusting their shoe laces. Music is playing through loudspeakers and the sun is shining hazily through the clouds and there’s a smell of sunscreen. And I’m part of it! I’m standing in the middle of Group One, about ten feet away from a massive great metal arch which is the start of the race, with a number taped to my chest (184) and a special chip in my shoe. Best of all, I’m wearing the fab team baseball cap which was waiting for me at the hotel desk. It’s bright turquoise, with TEAM SAGE in white letters. I feel like I’m in the Olympics!