it: I got to dress up! It felt like breathing fresh air again to get out my suitcase and actually choose clothes that looked nice. For over a month there had been no one to impress and nothing to dress up for and I was feeling myself turning into a fashion-deprived has-been.
I dug down a few layers and carefully got out the new skinny jeans from my birthday. The shirt took a bit more thought. I had to try on at least eight before I settled on layering three tops over each other. Then I added some bling by pinning a massive silk rose to my shoulder and pulled my hair up into a messy bun. It’s always surprising how long messy buns take to do. Sadly my white lace flats, which would have been perfect, were ruined. I’d had to chuck them out after the toilet debacle on the first day. But I had another pair in rose-coloured satin that I’d been saving for a special occasion.
“Ta-dah,” I said, coming out from behind my curtain. “What do you think?” I did a twirl into the middle of the shed with a big smile on my face.
And then I saw Charlie.
The smile fell off my cheeks and onto the gravel floor.
“No way!” I said. “You cannot wear that!”
I know that Charlie and I have always had different attitudes towards clothes, but let me just say that on this particular night she had reached a whole new level of low. When we lived in Sydney, she used to at least try to get it right. But what I saw in front of me was a frumpy, comfortable dag.
“What is that shirt?” I said, looking at something she used to wear to bed. And then, horror! “Are those Mum’s jeans?”
“Yeah, they fit me,” she said proudly. “They’ll do, right?”
I gave her the full roll, Mum or no Mum.
“Charlie. If you ever have to ask if ‘they’ll do’, you know that they definitely don’t, ” I said. “It’s a rule. The second rule is this: for the rest of your life, while you ever go out with me, and especially while either of us are still single, I will dress you.”
She smiled cheerfully. “Whatever you say, oh great one. Dress me up.”
The first thing to be replaced was the disgusting shirt. I gave her one of my own tops still laying on my bed.
“You should chuck this out. It’s so over,” I said, pulling the rejected shirt away from Charlie. She clung to it for a second but then relented and let me have it. I went to put it in the plastic bag of kitchen scraps but Dad grabbed it.
“No! We’ll use it on the building site,” he said. “Can always do with extra rags.” He smiled at me but I shrugged and turned away.
“Come on, I’ll do your hair,” I said, ignoring Dad and turning back to Charlie. I sat down with her at my feet and plaited across the back of her head down into a side braid.
“That’s much better,” I said. “Here, put some makeup on.”
She groaned back at me. “Really? I just can’t be bothered.”
“Please? For my sake? At least mascara. Come on.” I pleaded with her. She grumbled but let me grab my makeup bag and half a minute later, sitting next to a candle for the light, I had a sister I wouldn’t have been embarrassed to introduce to Saffron and Tiger and the girls. Well, not very embarrassed anyway.
With no proper mirror in the shed it was hard to get a full head-to-toe view, so I showed Charlie her polished face in the hand mirror.
“You’re right,” she said. “That’s heaps better. I’ve kind of forgotten how to do it. You’re so clever.”
“It’s what I do best,” I said and examined my own make up. Yep, it was all smooth with no mascara blotches. I smiled experimentally to check the stretch on my lipstick but quickly closed my lips when I saw my teeth. Ick. I must ask Mum when I can go to the dentist and fix all that, I thought. Definitely has to be before I go back to Sydney.
“Hey Coco, let’s take a picture,” said Charlie. “You can use your iPod. Mum, can you do it?”
We stood together as Mum snapped away. “You girls look
I dug down a few layers and carefully got out the new skinny jeans from my birthday. The shirt took a bit more thought. I had to try on at least eight before I settled on layering three tops over each other. Then I added some bling by pinning a massive silk rose to my shoulder and pulled my hair up into a messy bun. It’s always surprising how long messy buns take to do. Sadly my white lace flats, which would have been perfect, were ruined. I’d had to chuck them out after the toilet debacle on the first day. But I had another pair in rose-coloured satin that I’d been saving for a special occasion.
“Ta-dah,” I said, coming out from behind my curtain. “What do you think?” I did a twirl into the middle of the shed with a big smile on my face.
And then I saw Charlie.
The smile fell off my cheeks and onto the gravel floor.
“No way!” I said. “You cannot wear that!”
I know that Charlie and I have always had different attitudes towards clothes, but let me just say that on this particular night she had reached a whole new level of low. When we lived in Sydney, she used to at least try to get it right. But what I saw in front of me was a frumpy, comfortable dag.
“What is that shirt?” I said, looking at something she used to wear to bed. And then, horror! “Are those Mum’s jeans?”
“Yeah, they fit me,” she said proudly. “They’ll do, right?”
I gave her the full roll, Mum or no Mum.
“Charlie. If you ever have to ask if ‘they’ll do’, you know that they definitely don’t, ” I said. “It’s a rule. The second rule is this: for the rest of your life, while you ever go out with me, and especially while either of us are still single, I will dress you.”
She smiled cheerfully. “Whatever you say, oh great one. Dress me up.”
The first thing to be replaced was the disgusting shirt. I gave her one of my own tops still laying on my bed.
“You should chuck this out. It’s so over,” I said, pulling the rejected shirt away from Charlie. She clung to it for a second but then relented and let me have it. I went to put it in the plastic bag of kitchen scraps but Dad grabbed it.
“No! We’ll use it on the building site,” he said. “Can always do with extra rags.” He smiled at me but I shrugged and turned away.
“Come on, I’ll do your hair,” I said, ignoring Dad and turning back to Charlie. I sat down with her at my feet and plaited across the back of her head down into a side braid.
“That’s much better,” I said. “Here, put some makeup on.”
She groaned back at me. “Really? I just can’t be bothered.”
“Please? For my sake? At least mascara. Come on.” I pleaded with her. She grumbled but let me grab my makeup bag and half a minute later, sitting next to a candle for the light, I had a sister I wouldn’t have been embarrassed to introduce to Saffron and Tiger and the girls. Well, not very embarrassed anyway.
With no proper mirror in the shed it was hard to get a full head-to-toe view, so I showed Charlie her polished face in the hand mirror.
“You’re right,” she said. “That’s heaps better. I’ve kind of forgotten how to do it. You’re so clever.”
“It’s what I do best,” I said and examined my own make up. Yep, it was all smooth with no mascara blotches. I smiled experimentally to check the stretch on my lipstick but quickly closed my lips when I saw my teeth. Ick. I must ask Mum when I can go to the dentist and fix all that, I thought. Definitely has to be before I go back to Sydney.
“Hey Coco, let’s take a picture,” said Charlie. “You can use your iPod. Mum, can you do it?”
We stood together as Mum snapped away. “You girls look
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