“You’re all such lovely girls,” Lucy says as she eyes us discerningly. “Though I think some of you let the clothes wear you.” She looks directly at Sara Claire, one beautifully shaped eyebrow raised.
Jay nods knowingly, and I’m trying my best not to be just a little bit annoyed. I love the world of fashion, but the idea that it’s this mystical thing only meant for a select few is bullshit. And Lucy Mackenzie—a department-store staple—should know that better than anyone else. Yes, clothes can be art, but they’re also a necessity. So many people in this industry act like clothing is for everyone, but fashion is only for a select few. The truth, though, is that clothing is fashion and fashion should be for everyone because clothing should be for everyone. And clothing for everyone is a first, small step to equality for everyone. Getting opportunities and access is a whole hell of a lot easier when you look the part.
“But I see one of you has taken liberties with my work,” Lucy says. “Step forward—”
I step forward and my stomach bubbles, and I truly hope no one else heard that.
“Cindy,” Henry supplies. “Mother, meet Cindy.”
“Hi, Lu—Mrs. Mackenzie. I’m a big fan of LuMac,” I tell her in a hurry before she can get a word in. “In fact, I’m a Parsons alum too. We have that in common. I just…I was so excited to hear we’d be coming here today, but as you can tell, I’ve got a…fuller figure.” I want to say fat, but I don’t think I have the time to also explain that fat isn’t a four-letter word. “And when I couldn’t find anything on the rack in my size, I decided to…reinterpret your work.”
She steps onto the stage. “That’s a judicious way of saying you had to make do.” She touches the fabric of my top and runs her fingers along the edges of the tie dangling along the front. “Jay, is this the Marlena cover-up from the 2019 resort line?”
“Indeed it is,” Jay says as Henry watches, obviously a little out of his depth.
“And the skirt?” she asks.
“Holiday collection 2018. The Charlotte shift dress,” Jay tells her.
Lucy crosses her arms. “You wear it well, my dear. And I like to see a bit of resourcefulness. The curves…suit you.”
“Thank you,” I say quietly, even though what I really want to say is that I shouldn’t have to be resourceful and that it’s my body, so of course it suits me.
“I didn’t realize this was Project Runway,” Addison mutters from the other side of Jenny.
I step back into line as Lucy talks to a few other girls, and on-brand for Sara Claire, Lucy seems a little unsure as she asks her, “May I?”
Sara Claire nods and Lucy touches her hair. “Bottle or natural?”
“Uh, a little bit of both?” Sara Claire says.
I’m starting to get the feeling that Lucy Mackenzie was not an easy woman to grow up with.
Once Lucy is done with her inquisition, she steps back down and whispers to Jay, who nods in agreement.
“Ladies”—Jay nods—“you all did a fantastic job here today, but here at LuMac, we always have a soft spot for rule breakers, so the winner of today’s runway challenge is Cindy!”
I straighten at the sound of my name as my hand flies up to my chest. “What? Me?” I won something! I’ve never even won an Instagram contest, and now I’ve won a Before Midnight challenge. I clap giddily while trying not to gloat.
A few of the other women pat me on the back, and sitting beside Lucy, Henry smiles widely as he tilts his chin down to congratulate me. Good job, he mouths.
I do a little curtsy in response. (Key word: little. This pencil skirt isn’t budging.) In this moment it feels so silly to be here with all these ridiculous games and rules when just last night we stood in the gift shop like two completely normal adults who weren’t pseudo dating via a reality television competition.
After we share a glass of champagne for the camera—this show will literally toast to anything—we’re instructed to get dressed in our own clothes so we can film a tour of the office with Jay and Henry.
We all wave bye to Lucy, none of us brave enough to actually approach her, and when she steps out the back door and into a black SUV, there is a collective sigh of relief from everyone. Even Henry. Especially Henry.
Upstairs, we’re led into a bright and open office with tons of real plants and a huge reception desk in the shape of the blocky LuMac logo with an LU running up the side of a very square M.
“LuMac is an independent brand, and while many have tried, Lucy has resisted the urge to merge with a larger conglomerate and maintains majority ownership. This independence is what sets LuMac apart, but it also means that every decision counts in a very big way,” Jay says as we weave in and out of workspaces.
Henry nods grimly and wraps his knuckles on a door with his name on it. “And this is my office.”
Addison lets out a dramatic Oooooo. “Genius at work!”
Miraculously, I don’t puke. As the group moves on, I hang back and peek my head inside. I don’t know what I expected, but this is not it. The office furniture is sleek and minimal with a bright white desk and ergonomic desk chair. A low-sitting midcentury sofa in a soft-looking camel-colored leather sits in front of the window. By the wall is a console with an old record player, and beneath that are crates full of records. It’s easy to imagine Henry sitting there on the couch, zoned-out during a conference call as he combs through the records. There are papers covering every surface and file boxes placed haphazardly all over. It’s the kind of office someone actually works in. On the desk is one single framed photo: little Henry on his father’s shoulders with his mom laughing hysterically as a wave crashes over the three of them.
“I would’ve cleaned first if I knew you’d be snooping,” Henry whispers, his voice tickling my ear.
I jump back a little and find my back pressed against his torso as the rest of the group turns the corner.
Instead of stepping away from him, I lean my head back against his chest and look up, allowing myself this indulgence. “It’s nice to know you actually work here and aren’t just cashing a check.”
His laugh is bitter as he presses his hand to the small of my back and guides me forward so that we can rejoin the group. “Trust me when I say I’m not cashing many checks here.”
Before I can manage to ask Henry more, he’s swiftly rejoined Jay at the front of the line.
We make our way up a stairwell as Jay explains that each floor is a different micro brand, acquired by Lucy herself, and that with the help of Henry, she’s created a mentor program to help each brand establish itself. Henry’s eyes light up when Jay explains the program, and I think it’s the most excited by LuMac I’ve ever seen him.
Once we’re done filming, Henry is swept away, and all the women congregate downstairs, where a small group of paparazzi and a few Before Midnight fans have gathered.
“Does this mean we’re famous?” Jenny asks.
Jay laughs as they sit perched on the counter. “Enjoy it while you can.”
I detach from the group and make my way over to Jay. “Thanks for the tour,” I tell them.
They smirk and hop down before tapping the tip of my nose with their finger. “I like you. Lucy isn’t so sure, but I like you.”