Читать книгу Andre's Showcase - Kimberly Wyatt - Страница 9

‘Oh my God! This town is so dull it makes watching paint dry seem like a thriller.’ Andre looked around the shopping precinct and gave a dramatic sigh.

‘Chill, Dre,’ Tilly replied. ‘It’s good that it’s boring.’

‘Oh yeah?’ Andre stared at her. ‘Why’s that?’

Tilly adjusted her peaked cap. ‘Because it means that when we do finally spot a great look it’ll really stand out.’

Andre leaned over the wall of the gallery to look down to the floor below. The precinct was full of frazzled-looking parents pushing buggies, and scruffy school kids. How were they ever going to find a good look here? It was like a blazer-wearing, toddler-wrangling zombie apocalypse. They should have gone into London instead but of course he didn’t have enough time. He had yet another History assignment that was due in tomorrow.

‘What about that guy?’ Tilly said, pointing to a boy of about sixteen who was leaning against the wall beneath a sign for the public toilets.

‘Are you serious? He’s wearing a McDonald’s uniform!’

‘I know. But maybe we could do a post on fast-food fashion?’

Andre cocked his head as if he was listening hard to something. ‘Wait, what’s that I hear?’

Tilly frowned. ‘What?’

‘The sound of the bottom of the barrel being scraped. Fast-food fashion? What the hell? Fast food is the enemy of the animals, Tillz, and nothing can help that tragic uniform.’

‘It could be ironic,’ Tilly said lamely. ‘Or we could do a top tips kind of thing. Like, how to stop your work uniform looking so naff.’

‘Do you think Vogue would ever do a fast-food fashion feature?’

‘No but . . .’

‘But what?’

‘Spotted isn’t Vogue.’

Andre’s heart sank. What was Tilly trying to say? They weren’t Vogue . . . and they never would be? He looked back at the McDonald’s guy and his stomach rumbled. He could murder a burger right now. ‘Oy vey!’ he muttered under his breath.

Tilly hooked her arm in his. ‘What is it? What’s up, Dre?’

‘Nothing. I’m just hangry.’ Andre tore his eyes away from the McDonald’s guy. He was not going to give up on being vegan, no way. He wasn’t a heartless animal murderer like his dad. He was better than that.

‘What’s hangry?’ Tilly asked.

‘It’s when you’re so hungry you become angry and right now I am at boiling point, toooot !’

‘Why don’t we go and get something to eat then?’ Tilly said, her face brightening. ‘You never know, we might spot someone cool in the sandwich bar.’

‘Yeah, and bacon sandwiches might fly.’ Andre sighed. ‘OK then, let’s go cure this hanger.’

Once they’d got their sandwiches – salmon for Tilly and humous and vegetables for Andre – Tilly took off her cap and stared at him.

‘What is it, Dre? You haven’t been your normal self at all lately. We’re all worried about you.’

‘All?’ Andre frowned.

‘Yes, all of Il Bello.’

Andre felt a warm glow inside as he imagined the street crew huddled together talking about him, their faces full of concern. It’s killing me that he’s so down, he imagined Billie saying. Andre is our everything, I don’t know what we’d do without him. The warm glow faded. He didn’t want to be their everything. It was too much pressure.

‘What’s going on?’ Tilly continued.

‘Nothing. It’s just . . . I’ve been worried about Spotted . . . about losing subscribers. That harem-pant post didn’t get nearly as many likes as our previous posts. I’m worried I’m losing my touch.’

‘You’re not losing your touch! Oh my God, Dre, you’re the most fabulous person I’ve ever met.’

‘Really?’ Andre searched her face for any evidence she was lying but Tilly’s eyes were wide and deadly serious.

‘Of course. You’re FETCH with a capital everything, remember.’

Andre nodded. ‘It’s true.’

Tilly leaned forward, her face lighting up. ‘I’ve got it!’

‘Got what?’

‘Who we need to feature on our next post.’

Andre looked around the sandwich bar behind him. A middle-aged guy wearing a greasy anorak and sporting the lamest comb-over was sitting by the door stuffing some kind of pie into his face. Gravy was trickling down his chin.

‘You’ve got to be kidding? You want to do a feature on pie-face chic?’

‘What?’ Tilly looked at the guy. ‘No! Not him – you.’

‘Me?’

‘Yes. We should feature you as the founder of Spotted.’

‘But there’s already something on me on the About page.’

‘Yes, but it isn’t a proper feature.’ Tilly was beaming now. ‘Go on, it would be great. We can do a proper photo shoot – in the Stable Studio. I could get some epic shots of you in there.’

‘Do you really think it would be a good idea?’ Andre could tell from her face that she did but he wanted to hear her say it again. He could never have too much of hearing people say he was fabulous.

‘Yes! You’re everything that Spotted is about . . . and your look is always on point.’

‘What about my hair – don’t forget my hair,’ Andre prompted.

Tilly grinned. ‘Yes, Dre – you have the fetchest hair in the entire universe.’

Andre grinned back at her. Tilly was right. It would be great to feature himself on Spotted. It was a chance to publish a new post and make himself feel better all in one go.

‘OK, you’re on,’ he said.

‘Awesome!’ Tilly replied.

When they got back to WEDA Tilly went straight to the Stable Studio to sort out the lights and camera for the shoot and Andre headed for his dorm room to pick an outfit. Thankfully, MJ wasn’t there. Andre loved his straight-talking room-mate but sometimes – like when Andre was trying to figure out what to wear – his dry commentary could get a little annoying.

‘OK, let’s create a fashion masterpiece!’ Andre declared, flinging his wardrobe door open. ‘Oh . . .’ His wardrobe was practically empty. He turned and looked around his side of the room. His wardrobe was practically empty because almost all of his clothes seemed to be draped over every piece of furniture and most of the floor. Andre started making three separate heaps on the floor – YES, NO and MAYBE. When he came across his favourite pair of harem pants he shuddered and was about to fling them on the NO pile when he had a thought. He’d always loved those trousers. He’d got them from his favourite flea market in New York. Why should he let some stupid joker’s comments put him off his beloved trousers? What if he wore them for the shoot? Reclaimed the harem pant – made them fashion forward again. Andre’s skin started to tingle. He was a young man on a mission. He put the harem pants in the YES pile.

Almost a whole hour later – and after several texts from Tilly along the lines of ‘Where the hell are you?’ – Andre had completed his look. As well as the harem pants he was wearing Docs with the laces undone, his favourite vintage Adidas shirt and a couple of gold chains, and his fingers were adorned in gold rings.

‘And now for the finishing touch,’ he said to his reflection in the wardrobe mirror before fetching his black mascara from his desk drawer. He added a touch to his eyelashes for extra pop. Whenever anyone asked if he was wearing make-up he always fluttered his eyelashes and said, ‘Who, me? Darling, I was born this way!’ He stepped back and admired his finished look.

‘On. Point,’ he murmured with a grin.

His phone started ringing, rudely interrupting his self-admiration party. He didn’t have to look at the caller ID to know it would be Tilly. ‘OK, OK, I’m coming already.’ He grabbed his room keys and headed for the door.

Down in the Stable Studio Tilly had set up a couple of lights in front of her graffiti mural and she had her favourite Twenty One Pilots track playing.

‘At last!’ she said as Andre came in.

‘I’m sorry but a true diva cannot hurry his craft,’ Andre said, coming to stand in front of her. ‘What do you reckon?’

‘You look amazing!’ Tilly grinned. ‘I love those harem pants on you.’

‘You do?’ Andre felt a burst of relief.

‘Yeah. We should have featured you in the post last week. I bet you’d have got hundreds of likes.’

Andre felt some of the tension he’d been carrying for the past few days ease a little. Maybe last week’s dip in likes was just a blip. Now was his chance to prove it.

‘OK, what do you want me to do?’

For the next hour Tilly got Andre to stand in a series of poses. She also got some great action shots of him doing some big dance jumps. ‘We can capture your two loves – dance and fashion – in action,’ she explained. ‘We can show how movement can capture the beauty of the fabric and just how awesome harem pants are for dance. I mean, you can dress them up or down, lounge around, dance in them and do amazing jumps. They are the forever trouser. People need to get with the times already!’

Once they’d got a selection of shots they were happy with they went back to Andre’s room to write a post to go with them.

‘How about I interview you?’ Tilly said, sitting cross-legged on Andre’s bed. ‘I can record your answers on my phone and then you can type them up.’

‘Sounds good to me.’ Actually it sounded great to Andre. He could pretend he was being interviewed by Anna Wintour for Vogue. He leaned back on his pillows as Tilly switched on the voice recorder on her phone.

‘So, Andre, who is your greatest inspiration?’ Tilly asked.

‘Vivienne Westwood,’ Andre replied instantly, closing his eyes and imagining he was in Vogue ’s office in New York.

‘And why is that?’

‘Well, Anna, it’s –’

‘Anna?’ Tilly interrupted.

Andre opened his eyes and frowned at her. ‘What?’

‘Why did you call me Anna?’

‘I didn’t.’

‘Yes you did.’

‘Look, are we going to do this interview or what?’

Tilly sighed. ‘OK. Carry on.’

‘Vivienne Westwood is my inspiration. She never tries to fit into a mould. She always does her own thing. And she’s eco-conscious, vegetarian and fearless. I love her quote: “Popular culture is a contradiction in terms. If it’s popular, it’s not culture.” That’s what I try to create with my own look – something new and fresh. Fashion shouldn’t be about copying everyone else.’

‘So true.’ Tilly nodded. ‘Could you tell us some more about you and who you aspire to be?’

‘Sure. I aspire to be fearless and authentic at all times. I also care deeply for the planet we live on – and animals. I recently became vegan and I never want to go near meat again. Just the thought of it makes me sick.’ The image of a burger popped into Andre’s mind and his mouth started to water.

‘That’s great.’ Tilly smiled. ‘Now, as well as running this blog and being a full-time fashionista you’re currently a student at the World Elite Dance Academy. Could you tell us what dance means to you?’

‘Dance means everything to me,’ Andre replied. ‘Dance is where I feel most free to be me. Like, when I’m dancing – especially when I’m on stage – nothing else matters. It’s the only place I’m able to totally let go and allow the music and my mood to take over. Apart from the end-of-season sale rail.’

Tilly laughed. ‘Word. And finally, what are your dreams for the future?’

‘I’d like to make it as a world-class dancer and build this blog into an online fashion empire.’ As Andre said the words he felt a nervous twinge, the return of the doubt and anxiety he’d been feeling. What if he didn’t make it? What if he didn’t achieve those dreams? He pushed his doubts away and smiled at Tilly.

‘That was great,’ she said. ‘It’s going to make an awesome post.’

‘You think?’

‘I know.’

‘OK. Well, I’d better get typing it up.’ Andre looked at the clock. It was getting late. If he worked on the post tonight he wouldn’t have time to do his History assignment. He shrugged to himself. The blog post was more important than his History class. It was about his future, not the past. And right now, his future – and making sure it was an awesome one – was all that counted.