you really want to wear is plain black suits and nothing else, because it doesn't say enough about you. It doesn't give anyone meeting you for the first time nearly enough clues, and clues are vital. How is anyone going to chat you up if they haven't the slightest clue about you?'
'I love Audrey Hepburn,' Jody said thoughtfully. 'Hers is the wardrobe I'd most like to steal.'
'Oh, Audrey Hepburn,' Annie said with a touch of exasperation, 'so elegant but so . . . chilly. I mean, do you really believe that she and Gregory Peck got hot and sweaty and down to it at the end of Roman Holiday ? No. She was definitely the kind of girl who would have had a headache. What about Amélie?' Annie suggested. 'Did you ever see that French film? The quirky girl with the chic little bob just like yours and cute dresses and little hats.'
'Amélie?' Jody sounded surprised, 'I loved Amélie, but I don't want to seem weird.'
'Why not?' Annie shrugged. 'Maybe your inner weird and wonderful will attract someone else's weird and wonderful.'
Jody looked unconvinced.
'I've been dressing women for ten years now,' Annie told her with a confident smile. 'I think you're just going to have to trust me here. OK?'
Slowly, Jody nodded.
Chapter Twelve
Harry on parade:
Bespoke dinner suit (Daks)
White bespoke shirt (Thomas Pink)
Navy-blue tie with small white spot (Gieves & Hawkes)
High polished black shoes (Church's)
Total est. cost: £1,750
'This is absolutely marvellous!'
The Tate Modern's vast Turbine Hall made a stunning party venue. Huge sculptures rose up from the bare concrete floor, dwarfing the swarm of guests. There was something amazing to look at on every wall, in front of every window.
Although billed as an 'Art Ball', it was obvious there wasn't going to be any dancing round the priceless modern art treasures. This party was all about sipping at the champagne cocktails, chit-chatting with the other glamorous guests and posing in your fabulously creative outfit.
When Svetlana had promised that guests could wear whatever they liked, she certainly hadn't been exaggerating. In her first quick sweep of the room, Annie could see ageing aristocratic ladies in full-on taffeta gowns, leggy London girls in cocktail dresses in all the colours of the rainbow and all sorts of mismatched, carefully thought out combos in between. No forgetting the self-styled artists in head-to-toe black or ultra-fashionable jeans spattered with oil paint.
Annie had taken one of her cherished slinky Valentino gowns out of the wardrobe tonight, but carefully dressed it down with a denim jacket, a shell and leather necklace and high-heeled sandals with a chunky wooden heel. She hoped she struck just the right note of dressed up nonchalance which she thought the event would need.
On her arm was Cath, who carried a small black sequined mask on a stick.
'Just as soon as you feel nervous, you hold the mask in front of your face and you disappear, it's just like wearing big sunglasses,' Annie had told her.
Cath was surprisingly taken with the idea. Although she'd been sweaty with nerves as she was helped into her slinky black dress and her make-up, the addition of the mask had allowed her to relax a little.
'No-one would recognize you anyway!' Annie had told her, beaming with pleasure at the finished result. 'Look at that fabulous hair.'
An entire afternoon at the hairdresser's had transformed Cath's stiff, frumpy pudding bowl into something darker, more wispy and modern.
'I'll need a lesson in how to handle a pair of straighteners,' she'd told Annie.
'Happy to oblige,' Annie had assured her.
Once they'd been handed their first cocktails, Bob came up and insisted on taking Cath away from Annie.
'Don't you worry, I'll look after her,' he promised. 'I've got my camera all set up and I want her to do some shots for me before she's had too many cocktails and can't walk in a straight line any
'I love Audrey Hepburn,' Jody said thoughtfully. 'Hers is the wardrobe I'd most like to steal.'
'Oh, Audrey Hepburn,' Annie said with a touch of exasperation, 'so elegant but so . . . chilly. I mean, do you really believe that she and Gregory Peck got hot and sweaty and down to it at the end of Roman Holiday ? No. She was definitely the kind of girl who would have had a headache. What about Amélie?' Annie suggested. 'Did you ever see that French film? The quirky girl with the chic little bob just like yours and cute dresses and little hats.'
'Amélie?' Jody sounded surprised, 'I loved Amélie, but I don't want to seem weird.'
'Why not?' Annie shrugged. 'Maybe your inner weird and wonderful will attract someone else's weird and wonderful.'
Jody looked unconvinced.
'I've been dressing women for ten years now,' Annie told her with a confident smile. 'I think you're just going to have to trust me here. OK?'
Slowly, Jody nodded.
Chapter Twelve
Harry on parade:
Bespoke dinner suit (Daks)
White bespoke shirt (Thomas Pink)
Navy-blue tie with small white spot (Gieves & Hawkes)
High polished black shoes (Church's)
Total est. cost: £1,750
'This is absolutely marvellous!'
The Tate Modern's vast Turbine Hall made a stunning party venue. Huge sculptures rose up from the bare concrete floor, dwarfing the swarm of guests. There was something amazing to look at on every wall, in front of every window.
Although billed as an 'Art Ball', it was obvious there wasn't going to be any dancing round the priceless modern art treasures. This party was all about sipping at the champagne cocktails, chit-chatting with the other glamorous guests and posing in your fabulously creative outfit.
When Svetlana had promised that guests could wear whatever they liked, she certainly hadn't been exaggerating. In her first quick sweep of the room, Annie could see ageing aristocratic ladies in full-on taffeta gowns, leggy London girls in cocktail dresses in all the colours of the rainbow and all sorts of mismatched, carefully thought out combos in between. No forgetting the self-styled artists in head-to-toe black or ultra-fashionable jeans spattered with oil paint.
Annie had taken one of her cherished slinky Valentino gowns out of the wardrobe tonight, but carefully dressed it down with a denim jacket, a shell and leather necklace and high-heeled sandals with a chunky wooden heel. She hoped she struck just the right note of dressed up nonchalance which she thought the event would need.
On her arm was Cath, who carried a small black sequined mask on a stick.
'Just as soon as you feel nervous, you hold the mask in front of your face and you disappear, it's just like wearing big sunglasses,' Annie had told her.
Cath was surprisingly taken with the idea. Although she'd been sweaty with nerves as she was helped into her slinky black dress and her make-up, the addition of the mask had allowed her to relax a little.
'No-one would recognize you anyway!' Annie had told her, beaming with pleasure at the finished result. 'Look at that fabulous hair.'
An entire afternoon at the hairdresser's had transformed Cath's stiff, frumpy pudding bowl into something darker, more wispy and modern.
'I'll need a lesson in how to handle a pair of straighteners,' she'd told Annie.
'Happy to oblige,' Annie had assured her.
Once they'd been handed their first cocktails, Bob came up and insisted on taking Cath away from Annie.
'Don't you worry, I'll look after her,' he promised. 'I've got my camera all set up and I want her to do some shots for me before she's had too many cocktails and can't walk in a straight line any
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