feel
of the Naugahyde. “Funny you should mention that. We actually ran into one of
your other designers at dinner tonight. She didn’t have many pleasant things to
say about the company, or you for that matter. That was one of the reasons I
wanted to chat with you; I had not been informed that we had a client who was
severely dissatisfied with her show and one who, I might add, is being very
vocal about that dissatisfaction.”
Ahhh, well that
explained the late-night visit and the cat who ate the canary grin she had been
wearing since she first showed up at my door. It sounded like Tori Thomas
Taylor was at it again.
Tori Thomas
Taylor was the daughter of one of the richest men in New York. She was
completely without talent and completely without anyone in her life to inform
her that she had none. I had the great misfortune to be asked to produce her
first (and last) charity runway show for a private party hosted by her father.
At the time I agreed to produce the show, Marta had only said it was for
charity and it was being held on October 31 st at the Four Seasons
ballroom.
When I arrived at
the first rehearsal and saw the looks parading down the runway, I drew the only
conclusion any sane person could have drawn: This was a Halloween fashion show
with the highlight being these designs, which were a cross between Bride of
Frankenstein and the Mummy. All gauzy wrapped dresses and gothic-looking
nightgownish outfits. So I ran with it. Went full-out camp H-A-double L-O-W-double
E-N spells Halloween.
TT (as she preferred
to be called) had been in Hong Kong that week at an opening for her actor
boyfriend’s new restaurant and had communicated with me via text. She said she
trusted us and felt assured we would be able to glean from the clothing itself
what her message was for “her” public. Her first glimpse of what I had designed
happened at the same time everyone else’s did: Halloween night.
Later that
evening, when in the middle of the show TT got up and screamed bloody murder
and had to be removed from the ballroom was my first indication that maybe the
fashion was not intentionally Halloween-themed—that maybe it was just a
coincidence that her ridiculously horrible designs were debuting on the same
night zombies, ghosts, and vampires came out to play. Either way, this was not
my best professional moment, but I was vindicated by the sheer number of people
who came up to congratulate us after the show. Many even thought that TT’s
outburst and removal had all been part of the entertainment.
Her publicist later
confirmed that, and publicly they went along with the Halloween theme and said
that had been TT’s intention all along. It was only in the four walls of this
very office when TT, her publicist, her manager, her father, and Marta had all
handed me my ass on a platter that anyone admitted any different.
Ever since then,
TT had been vocal about how unhappy she was with our firm, going so far as to
claim that we held her back from all the crazy, ridiculous, campy Halloween
stuff she really wanted to do and delivered what she considered to be a
mediocre show to the New York fashion community.
“Scarlett, as I’m
sure you know, I have a sterling reputation at both this company and the
community at large. Although to most people what we do behind the scenes is
never seen, my peers in the industry know I do good work. TT is one example of
an unhappy client. As she has never shown another piece of clothing in public since,
I can only assume she has no idea what it is to work with another company. My
feeling is that she would be unhappy with any company she worked with because
she has no talent as a designer and we are production companies, not
magicians.”
Scarlett smiled
as she stood up. “I’m sure everyone in New York is completely aware of your
abilities. My concern is not you, Millicent, but this company. I am here to
bring in business, business which consists of
of the Naugahyde. “Funny you should mention that. We actually ran into one of
your other designers at dinner tonight. She didn’t have many pleasant things to
say about the company, or you for that matter. That was one of the reasons I
wanted to chat with you; I had not been informed that we had a client who was
severely dissatisfied with her show and one who, I might add, is being very
vocal about that dissatisfaction.”
Ahhh, well that
explained the late-night visit and the cat who ate the canary grin she had been
wearing since she first showed up at my door. It sounded like Tori Thomas
Taylor was at it again.
Tori Thomas
Taylor was the daughter of one of the richest men in New York. She was
completely without talent and completely without anyone in her life to inform
her that she had none. I had the great misfortune to be asked to produce her
first (and last) charity runway show for a private party hosted by her father.
At the time I agreed to produce the show, Marta had only said it was for
charity and it was being held on October 31 st at the Four Seasons
ballroom.
When I arrived at
the first rehearsal and saw the looks parading down the runway, I drew the only
conclusion any sane person could have drawn: This was a Halloween fashion show
with the highlight being these designs, which were a cross between Bride of
Frankenstein and the Mummy. All gauzy wrapped dresses and gothic-looking
nightgownish outfits. So I ran with it. Went full-out camp H-A-double L-O-W-double
E-N spells Halloween.
TT (as she preferred
to be called) had been in Hong Kong that week at an opening for her actor
boyfriend’s new restaurant and had communicated with me via text. She said she
trusted us and felt assured we would be able to glean from the clothing itself
what her message was for “her” public. Her first glimpse of what I had designed
happened at the same time everyone else’s did: Halloween night.
Later that
evening, when in the middle of the show TT got up and screamed bloody murder
and had to be removed from the ballroom was my first indication that maybe the
fashion was not intentionally Halloween-themed—that maybe it was just a
coincidence that her ridiculously horrible designs were debuting on the same
night zombies, ghosts, and vampires came out to play. Either way, this was not
my best professional moment, but I was vindicated by the sheer number of people
who came up to congratulate us after the show. Many even thought that TT’s
outburst and removal had all been part of the entertainment.
Her publicist later
confirmed that, and publicly they went along with the Halloween theme and said
that had been TT’s intention all along. It was only in the four walls of this
very office when TT, her publicist, her manager, her father, and Marta had all
handed me my ass on a platter that anyone admitted any different.
Ever since then,
TT had been vocal about how unhappy she was with our firm, going so far as to
claim that we held her back from all the crazy, ridiculous, campy Halloween
stuff she really wanted to do and delivered what she considered to be a
mediocre show to the New York fashion community.
“Scarlett, as I’m
sure you know, I have a sterling reputation at both this company and the
community at large. Although to most people what we do behind the scenes is
never seen, my peers in the industry know I do good work. TT is one example of
an unhappy client. As she has never shown another piece of clothing in public since,
I can only assume she has no idea what it is to work with another company. My
feeling is that she would be unhappy with any company she worked with because
she has no talent as a designer and we are production companies, not
magicians.”
Scarlett smiled
as she stood up. “I’m sure everyone in New York is completely aware of your
abilities. My concern is not you, Millicent, but this company. I am here to
bring in business, business which consists of
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