It's Called Fashion, Look it Up

"Look at this one!" My mom and her friend were sitting at the big table where we sometimes eat dinner when Grandma and Grandpa come over, giggling together.

"And this one!" My mom snorted "Have you ever seen something so ridiculous?"

"It's called fashion," her friend said snootily. "Look it up."

"What's so funny Mama?" I asked.

"We're looking at the-" But the rest of her words disappeared as I caught sight of what was on the computer screen.

Men and women strutted down a red carpet, wearing the most glamourous clothes I had ever seen. One woman had feathers all in her hair, like a bird. Another was covered head to toe with jewels. Another looked like a real-life princess!

"What are they doing, Mommy?" I asked, my eyes shining.

"Fashion!" My mom and her friend burst out laughing again, but I ignored them. An idea was already forming in my mind.

The next morning, my mom came in my room to wake me up for school. School is when I get on a big yellow bus with Ruby and lots of big kids, and we go to a big building where we play all day and sometimes learn about letters. Ruby lives next door, and she's my best friend. Ruby is really lucky to have such a glamourous name. She doesn't need glamourous clothes. My name is Anne. Sometimes I wish my mom had been a bit smarter when I was born.

"What do you want to wear today?" My mom asked, going to the closet and pulling out the bin that held my t-shirts.

"No!" I blurted out.

"Excuse me?" Mom said, turning around. I had quickly learned that some things were OK to say no to, like an extra snack, but sometimes, like when Mom asked if I wanted to take a bath, I was not supposed to say no.

"I want to dress myself today," I said as nicely and sweetly as possible.

"O-kay," My mom said. "Just make sure to dress warm; it's going to be cold today."

Well, I wasn't going to do that! I already had a plan! But I nodded so my mom would leave. Time for step one.

In the very top of the closet was the hot pink, flowery dress I wore for Easter. It wasn't long-sleeved like the princess I saw last night, but it had a poofy skirt, and was the most glamourous thing I owned. I jumped, but my fingers fell short. Frustrated, I looked around for something to stand on, and dragged over the little chair in the corner. I climbed up on it and stretched onto my tiptoes, reaching, reaching...

CRASH! The chair fell with a terrific loud bang. I landed hard on my bottom and smacked my elbow, but I had snagged the dress!

I heard my mom's footsteps running down the hallway and I barely managed to shove the dress into the closet and close the door, covering the chair, before she threw the door open.

"Anne! Anne-" She glanced wildly around the room. "Are you OK honey?"

"Yes!" I said quickly. "I'm fine!" She looked suspicious now.

"What made that crash?"

"I slammed the closet door," I said impulsively.

"Why?"

"I- I can't decide what to wear!" I burst out.

"Well, then let me help you. We have to go soon."

"No! Please, I can do it!" I promised. I knew that when Mom said 'soon' it didn't always mean soon. I still had time for my plan. "I can do it," I said pleadingly.

"Fine," my mom said. "But be quick, okay? And no more slamming things!" I nodded, and she shook her finger at me as she left.

Step two.

I pulled on the beautiful pink dress and my shiny red shoes from Christmas. They had hard black soles, like tap shoes. I cracked the door open and peered out. Mom was in the kitchen, cooking breakfast and singing. I snuck out into the hallway. Down the hall was the craft room, which would have everything I needed. In the cabinet, I grabbed feathers, stick on jewels, a fluffy scarf, glue, and a bucket of paint that smelled terrible.

I glued the feathers to the ends of my hair and stuck the jewels all over my face. It was fun to peel off the sticky white paper on the back, so I stuck them on my legs too. The princess woman had long green sleeves with long, matching gloves. The paint I found was orange, but it would work. Taking turns, I stuck both my arms in up to the shoulder.

Now for the final step. All the women at the big party last night had lots of shiny, sparkly jewelry. My mom kept all her jewelry in a big box in her room. My favorite was a silver necklace with a big green stone and lots of little shiny jewels. I crept slowly into my mom's room and went to her closet. I accidentally left an orange handprint on the doorknob, but I figured Mom would forgive me once she saw my outfit.

I looked all around for the box, but I didn't see it. A flash caught my eye and I saw it- on the highest shelf. And there were no helpful chairs to climb onto this time. I stepped onto the lowest shelf and hooked my hands on the next, but I couldn't pull myself up. Frustrated, I stretched, reaching for the box. My fingertips only barely brushed against the bottom. I lifted onto my tiptoes... almost there...

"Anne!"

I whirled around, and as I did, I felt my foot slip off the bottom. I fell backwards and reaching out to grab anything to slow my fall, I felt my hands hook into my mom's sweater. It ripped, and with a terrific crash! I fell onto the floor in a heap.

"Anne, sweetie!" My mom came running. "Are you okay?" I felt like bursting into tears as my mom's face changed from concern to surprise and anger. "What in the world are you wearing?" She cried.

I said the first thing that popped into my mind.

"It's called fashion," I said in my most dignified voice, "Look it up."