Catwalk (9 page)

“Here you go,” Fran tells me as she hands me a shiny yellow belt and a box that has a pair of yellow and black pumps inside.

I put them on and then look at myself again. “Not bad,” I tell her.

“I’d say it’s pretty good.” Fran puts a long silver necklace around my neck, then steps back and smiles.

Now Paige emerges from the bathroom and looks me up and down. “
Tres chic
,” she says with an approving nod.

“So, fashion emergency averted?” I ask. “I’m allowed to go out with you tonight?”

“With a little makeup,” Paige says as she pushes me toward the bathroom.

“I’m going to look like the ugly ducking,” Fran calls after us.

And although Fran looks nice enough in her little black dress and pumps, as the three of us wait to go into the theater on 51st Street I have to admit that Paige and I look great. And we do catch people’s eyes. I can tell they’re looking at us like they’re trying to figure out who we are. And, although it’s hard to admit, I suppose it’s actually kind of fun.

“Bad news,” Fran tells us Saturday morn
ing as we’re having breakfast in our room. She’s studying her BlackBerry with a dark frown. “Our camera crew never made it into New York last night. They’re stuck in Chicago—unexpected blizzard.”

“Does that mean we cancel on the Dylan Marceau visit today?” Paige asks with a worried brow.

“No way,” Fran tells her. “We worked really hard to set that one up and if we don’t show we might never get the chance again. Dylan is getting more and more in demand and we don’t want to offend him.”

“I could film the visit with my camera,” I say. “The quality won’t be as high as the crew’s cameras, but at least we’ll have some footage.”

“And at least we won’t blow off the appointment and offend the Dylan Marceau people,” Fran adds.

“And possibly get ourselves uninvited to his show next week.” Paige refills her coffee cup. “That would be really sad.”

“You really think you can handle this on your own?” Fran asks me.

“I’ll do my best.” I try not to look too happy because I know I should be as bummed as they are about losing our camera crew today. But the truth is I’m totally excited to think I’m not just “playing” Camera Girl today, but actually doing it. And that means two things: One, I do not need to worry about being filmed and two, with the crew stuck in Chicago I have a chance to get the best shots. Or so I hope.

“I’ll let JJ know where we’ll be just in case they catch a flight and make it here in time to come over and help us out.” Fran goes into the kitchen to make the call and we hear snippets of the conversation. “Still snowing? Well, there’s nothing you can do about that.” Fran sighs loudly. “Erin’s going to try to get some footage. Sure, I’ll tell her. You kids just take care and get here as soon as you can.” Then she says good-bye. “Sounds pretty bad,” she tells us. “They spent the night in the airport and it doesn’t look like anything will be flying out for at least two more hours.”

I know I shouldn’t feel as pleased as I do. And to make up for this, I silently pray for the crew’s welfare and safety.

“And JJ said to tell you that you’ll do fine, Erin. He said just relax and film your subjects like you’re just watching them.”

“Just
watching
them?”

“Those were his words.”

I nod. “Okay, that kind of makes sense.” I also want to say that his advice sounds like an oversimplification to me, but then again, JJ’s the expert. Not me. Hopefully this will be a good learning experience.

We arrive at the Dylan Marceau studio a little before ten.
I’m not really sure who this designer is, but I know that Paige is totally excited to meet him and Fran seemed really pleased that we lined him up for an interview. So I’m thinking this guy must be one of the “top designers” and therefore I brace myself for someone who’s a little too full of himself.

“I’m Autumn,” a small brunette tells us after the receptionist announces our arrival. “Dylan’s creative director.”

“Hi, Autumn, I’m Paige Forrester,” Paige says as she hands her business card to the woman. “Unfortunately, our camera crew is stuck in Chicago due to bad weather.” She nods toward me and makes a quick introduction. “But Erin is an experienced camera operator and I’m sure we won’t be disappointed.”

“Great,” Autumn says. “Sounds like we’re ready to rock and roll. And I’m actually relieved that you don’t have a huge crew with you. Hopefully that will streamline the tour and speed things up a bit, because as you know, we’re crunching on some serious deadlines here.”

“And we want to be totally respectful of your time.”

As they’re talking I turn on my camera, plug in the mic, and adjust the lens. And, just like that, we’re off and running. Autumn proceeds to give us what has become the typical tour of a design studio. And, really, this place isn’t much different than the ones in LA. However, there does seem to be some positive energy here. The designers are really into their work, but maybe that’s just because Fashion Week is coming fast. I do notice that the spaces here seem smaller than some of the LA studios, but I suspect that’s because Manhattan real estate is scarcer than it is at home. The largest room is where the actual garment construction happens, and that space is a whirl of activity and actually pretty fun to catch on camera. Paige doesn’t even go in there, and I try to get as much footage of
the cutters and sewers as I can before Autumn whisks us on our way.

There’s also a fitting room, where we get a glimpse of models and mannequins with garments in various stages of construction, and I catch what I hope might be some interesting footage. And there’s the usual conference room, offices, a shipping room, and a few other less-interesting spaces, as well as a room which is posted “Authorized Personnel Only.” Autumn winks into the lens of the camera as she points to the sign. “And that, as you can guess, is top secret until next week.”

We finally end up in what Autumn describes as the “nerve center” for the whole operation. The lower portions of the walls contain sleek built-in cabinets with large drawers and open shelves that hold sketchbooks, photograph albums, and magazines. The upper portions of two walls are like giant drawing boards and have some random sketches of clothing scribbled here and there—almost like graffiti. Another wall is a colorful collage of fabric swatches and trims and things. The fourth wall has photos of finished garments and shots from various fashion shows. And there’s an oversized desk in the center and several molded plastic chairs in varying colors around it. The total effect is creatively pleasing and it’s fun to get on camera.

“This is where Dylan gets his brainstorms,” Autumn explains. “In other words: Design Central.” She opens one of the sketchbooks and I focus my shot on it as she flips through the pages. “Naturally, this is a book from a previous season.” She chuckles and I move the camera to her face. “As you know, some parts of this business must remain under wraps until the time is right.” She glances at her
watch. “Speaking of time, I apologize for Dylan. He seems to be running late.”

“So, tell me, Autumn.” Paige just keeps it going. “What got you into this kind of work? And can you tell us about what a creative director does?”

“Sure. I actually got my degree in design and I really wanted to be a designer,” Autumn admits. “And maybe someday I will. But I was lucky to join Dylan’s team a few years ago when he was just starting up. I could tell he was brilliant and far more ready for this than I was. So I signed on as an assistant and worked my way up to this position. Let’s see…a creative director actually oversees a lot of things, including all forms of publicity and marketing—from arranging photo shoots to running print ads to planning our actual fashion shows and—”

“Hello, ladies.” I fan my camera around to catch a sandy-haired guy coming into the room. “Sorry to be late.”

“And this is Dylan Marceau,” Autumn announces.

“I want to accommodate your show,” he says, “but I can only give you about fifteen minutes.”

Now Dylan, who actually seems quite young, takes Autumn’s chair and Paige wastes no time as she jumps in with her regular questions. But Dylan’s responses are much friendlier than I expected. This guy isn’t snooty at all. In fact, it could be my imagination, but I think he likes my sister. Their conversation gets snappy and witty and pretty lively.

And that’s when I realize I’m over my head because we really need two cameras to properly catch a conversation like this. Still I back up, open up the lens, and just do my best to keep up. And like JJ said, I just pretend I’m watching them
chat and after awhile, it’s like I get into this rhythm and I’m hopeful that maybe, just maybe, it will work.

“Sorry to cut this short,” Dylan finally tells Paige. Although I think it’s been longer than his originally promised fifteen minutes—in fact, according to my camcorder it’s been more than fifty-four minutes. “But I’m totally buried today. I decided to do some last-minute changes and, well, I’m sure you can imagine what it’s like.” He reaches out to shake Paige’s hand. “But I did enjoy our time together.”

“So did I,” Paige assures him. “And I totally appreciate you taking time out of your busy day. I didn’t mention it earlier because I didn’t want to sound too schmoozy, but I’ve been a fan of yours for a while and it was an incredible honor to actually meet you.”

“Maybe when Fashion Week is over we can do this again,” he tells her. “With our without your camera crew.”

Paige’s eyes light up. “Absolutely!”

“And if you’d like to talk to anyone else,” he says as he pauses by the door, “maybe Autumn can help. There are a few models just hanging around, killing time between fittings. You might be able to catch one of them for a few words about what that particular angle of fashion is like.”

“That’d be great. Thanks again!” He exits and Paige turns back to Autumn. “Do you think we could round up a model or two?”

“Certainly,” Autumn tells her. “Let me call Jill in fitting to see if there’s someone she can send our way.”

I use this opportunity to check my camera’s batteries and memory card and to make sure I’m ready to keep shooting if we get the chance. And the next thing I know a tall, beautiful young woman with dark curly hair and skin the color of a
creamy latte comes in. “Hi, I’m Taylor Mitchell,” she says. “Jill asked me to stop by.”

“
Taylor Mitchell.
” Paige stands and extends her hand. “It’s such an honor to meet you. I am such a fan.”

Taylor laughs and it’s a hearty, genuine-sounding laugh. “Seriously?” she asks. “How do you even know who I am?”

“Oh, you’d be surprised at what I know about fashion.”

I’d like to ditto that, but I’m too busy trying to get some good footage of Taylor. She is really stunning and yet she seems real too—full of life.

“For starters, I know that you’re about the same age as I am,” Paige continues. “And that you started modeling professionally under the supervision of Katherine Carter, former model and ex-editor-in-chief of
Couture
magazine.”

“Wow, you really do your homework.” Taylor looks impressed.

“And I know that you’re Dylan Marceau’s favorite model, but I thought I heard you were a free agent, so to speak. Aren’t you modeling for a number of designers now?”

“Yes, but I still try to give Dylan some of my time too. He’s a great guy—and a brilliant designer.”

“I couldn’t agree more. I predict Dylan will be leading the way in design before long—maybe even next season. But, Taylor, it seems you’ve actually had something to do with Dylan’s recent success.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Taylor frowns slightly now, like she’s a little confused. “I’m sorry…but did you say who you were exactly?”

I can’t help but laugh. Paige actually
did
forget to introduce herself. This is a first for my smooth sister!

“I’m sorry,” Paige quickly recovers. “I’m Paige Forrester
from
On the Runway
, and the girl behind the camera is my sister, Erin. Our camera crew got stuck in a Midwest blizzard.”

Taylor laughs. “Oh, good. I thought maybe you were from a local high school, trying to get something for your school’s website. Not that I wouldn’t talk to them, but this is a pretty busy time for everyone.”

Paige just smiles. “Yes, we’re usually a bit more professional than this, but we didn’t want to miss the chance to meet Dylan.”

“So you’re the girls who are staying at our house next week?” Taylor continues with interest.

“Yes, if that’s okay. Apparently our boss, Helen Hudson, and your mom are friends.”

“Absolutely. It’ll be fun. Eliza is acting like we’re having a slumber party.”

“Eliza?”

“My roommate.”

“And she’s a model too, right?”

Taylor nods, but I suspect by the look in her eyes that she’s not too sure about this roommate. Or maybe she’s just not sure the girl is model material. I’m thinking maybe spending a night at their place might provide some interesting stories after all.

Paige continues to ask Taylor fashion and modeling questions and it seems like the two of them are really hitting it off. In fact, before we’re done, it’s as if the table has been turned and suddenly Taylor is interviewing Paige. She’s curious as to how Paige got her start in TV and what kind of training she’s had. Fortunately, Paige just goes with the flow. And I’m glad because I think it’s going to make for some good material for our show.

“Well, this has been fun,” Taylor finally says, “but I really
need to get over to the Ralph Lauren studio now. They’re doing some fittings today too.”

“I wish we could go with you,” Paige says longingly. “We tried to set up an interview over there, but they were just too busy.”

“I’m not surprised.” Taylor smiles. “But hopefully you can make it to his show. It’s going to be good.”

“We’re working on it,” Fran says from where she’s sitting in a corner reading a magazine, and we all look her way. “But so far it sounds like they’re full.”

“Maybe I could help,” Taylor offers. “Not that I have some magic touch, but I
am
friends with the guy in charge of seating.” She chuckles as she reaches for her bag. “A few of my friends are nagging me for tickets.”

“Oh, if you could help us out, we’d really appreciate it.” Paige hands Taylor her business card.

“In fact…” Taylor gets a thoughtful look across her brow. “Maybe we could exchange favors.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“If I can get you into the Ralph Lauren show…how about if you interview a designer friend of mine in return, to get her some exposure?”

“Of course,” Paige agrees. “We’d love to interview your friend.”

“Great!” Taylor grins. “I’ll get back to you on the Ralph Lauren tickets.” Then she tells us all good-bye and leaves.

“Wow.” Paige sits down and sighs. “That was awesome. This has been such a productive day.” She suddenly looks at me with concern. “You did get all that, didn’t you, Erin?”

“I did the best I could. I suppose it’ll be up to the editors to decide whether it makes it on the show or not.”

And as we pack up to go, I shoot up a quick prayer—okay, so maybe it’s a backward sort of prayer. I wonder if it’s possible to pray in reverse. Anyway, I ask God to bless the filming that just took place and to hopefully make it usable for our show.