Fashion Frenzy

Valentina wakes up feeling like a fashion queen, a breathtaking blend of wit, charm, and beauty. She feels like the goddess of the runway, despite not being Giselle. As the Chief of Staff for Fashion Reporter, the world’s leading fashion magazine, she has the power to make people feel confident in their own skin simply by wearing the latest expensive clothing. The day of the company’s grand fashion show has arrived, and Valentina is ready to bask in the glory and praise that she knows is coming. She rises early to the sound of her alarm, eager to prepare for the day’s events. Valentina slips into a form-fitting cream suit from Milan, which hugs her curves in all the right places but makes her look stunning. She savors her coffee, knowing she will need all the energy she can muster to dominate the day ahead.

However, things go differently than planned. Everything seems to go wrong. As Valentina steps out of her chic apartment building, the sun is already beating down on her, making her skin glisten with a hint of sweat. A gust of wind picks up, tousling her hair into a wild, sensual mess that perfectly complements her cream Milan suit. A nearby construction site is in full swing, and clouds of dust engulf her, creating a film of grim, marring her once-perfect outfit. As she brushes the dust off, she spins around in her 3-inch shiny patent cream Ferragamo shoes and bumps into a hot and sweaty jogger, causing her to stumble towards the curb. Right then, a passing bicyclist sprays her with dirty water from a gutter puddle, completely destroying her suit, shoes, and confidence. Her eyes fill with tears of frustration, and she feels like a fallen queen. Yet, despite the despair, she wipes the tears away with determination, thinking to herself, “It has got to get better from here ’cause it can’t get any worse.” Little does she know that the universe has some cruel tricks up its sleeve for her.

Valentina stands on the bustling street corner, her eyes scanning the street for an available taxi. She can feel the sun beating down on her skin, causing her black silk blouse to cling to her sides. As she waits for a taxi to slow, her phone buzzes in her hand, and she looks down to see her boss calling her. As she is about to answer, a handsome young executive in a cheap charcoal suit dashes in front of her and jumps into the taxi she has been waiting for. She screams in frustration and feels her face flush with heat. But before she can react any further, the taxi door slams shut, and the executive speeds off, waving mockingly at her. Valentina consoles herself with the fact that the man’s ill-fitting suit is a far cry from her impeccable fashion sense. Valentina’s heart pounds with a mixture of frustration and annoyance, but she tries to keep her cool as her boss’s voice rings in her ear, demanding that she fetch a stunning gold gown collection from John Elabro’s high-end boutique on the other side of the city.

Valentina is stuck in traffic for what seems like an eternity before finally arriving at John Elabro’s studio. She impatiently climbs the stairs to the second floor and rings the bell, growing increasingly anxious with each passing second. No one answers, so she rings it repeatedly, but still no answer. Panic sets in as she fumbles through her bag for her phone, slowly realizing with horror that she must have left it in the taxi. In a frenzy, she begins furiously dumping her belongings onto the ground, desperately searching for it, hoping to be wrong. As she scrambles to gather her things, she sees a pair of shiny black shoes right before her. She hastily rises to her feet, pulling down her skirt that had ridden up too high, and holds out her hand to John Elabro; forcing a smile, she says, “Hi, I am Valentina, here to pick up the evening collection.” John Elabro stares at her with piercing blue eyes, and Valentina cannot help but feel embarrassed by her disheveled look.

John Elabro scrutinizes her outstretched hand and shoots a withering look at her face. “Is that how you normally greet people?” he drawls, before pivoting on his heel and striding back into his studio. As he waves a dismissive hand towards his collection hanging on the wall, he calls over his shoulder, “There it is. Next time don’t be late.” Valentino seizes the collection, tucks it under her arm, and heads to the stairwell with a mental note of “jerk” at the forefront of her mind. She can’t help but feel that her day has taken a turn for the worse. She looked a mess, had lost her phone, and was late. She shuttered to think about how many missed messages her phone had by now.

Stepping out onto the street, Valentina heaves the evening bag over her left shoulder and balances her phoneless purse on her right as she frantically flags down another taxi. As she clambers into the taxi, she struggles to find a comfortable position, mentally ticking off the remaining tasks she needs to complete upon arrival at the convention center, all complicated by the fact that she has lost her phone. Her nerves are on edge, and she pushes down the rising panic threatening to surface. Valentina whispers to herself to “get a grip,” and she calms herself down. But suddenly, the taxi screeches to a halt, throwing Valentina forward, as the taxi narrowly avoids hitting a pedestrian crossing the road. Valentina apprehensively watches the pedestrian berate the taxi driver before storming off. The incident leaves Valentina rattled and even more behind schedule. As Valentina approaches the convention center, her heart beats faster, fueled by the thrill of her role in organizing such a high-profile fashion event. She envisions the stunning display of luxurious fabrics and exquisite designs that will grace the catwalk. Despite the setback of the missed phone, her messy look, and the recent cab incident, Valentina is determined to make this show unforgettable.

The taxi comes to a sudden halt outside the convention center, and Valentina sees the throngs of people streaming into the building, realizing she needs to hustle to get backstage. She tugs the Elabro collection bag across the seat and plants her patent leather shoe on the pavement. However, Valentina moves too quickly and gets the bag hooked on the door knob. With a sickening rip, she turns in horror to see that the Elabro collection bag has become jammed in the door frame as the taxi begins to move away. Valentina screams for the driver to stop, races to the taxi, and flings open the door to grab the Elabro collection bag. No, no, no, she screams to herself. This can’t be happening. Not to her. Not today. Her life and career feel over as she drops to the ground for the second time that day, frantically trying to open the zipper. Her hands shake with fury, and sweat pours from her forehead. After what seems like an eternity, the zipper gives way. Her relief is palpable as she runs her hands over the beautiful sequins. She can hardly believe her luck - no damage!

Pulling herself together, Valentina rises to her feet. She makes her way towards the convention center door, the collection bag slung over her left shoulder and her phoneless purse on her right. As she reaches backstage, a short, wiry bald man with a booming voice, the producer, spots her and bellows, “Valentina, where are those dresses? I need them now!” Hurrying towards him, Valentina collides with an assistant on the phone, sending coffee flying all over her suit. She looks down in horror, realizing that her day could actually get worse. Stamping her foot in frustration as the assistant apologizes and scurries off, Valentina’s heart sinks as she looks down at her stained cream colored suit, now officially ruined beyond repair. She swallows the loud, anguished cry rising in her throat. The world seems to spin around her, and she can feel her stomach churn with anxiety. She hands off the collection bag, and then she stumbles into the bathroom, hoping to salvage what little dignity she has left, but even the mirror seems to mock her. She can see the judgment in its reflection, the cruel sneer of fate that has led her to this moment. She is a mess - her once pristine shoes are now caked with dirt, her hair disheveled, and her face streaked with tears. But Valentina is not one to be defeated so easily. With a fierce determination, she tears off her suit jacket and hurls it across the room, behind a tacky plastic fern. She straightens her blouse, fluffs her hair, and gives herself a steely glare in the mirror. With a final, defiant nod, she strides out of the bathroom and back to the stage.

Despite her own turmoil - the show actually goes off without a hitch. As the last model disappears behind the curtains, Valentina exhales a massive sigh of relief. She surveys the backstage area littered with chaos, as if a hurricane has swept through, leaving a trail of creativity and passion in its wake. Valentina can barely believe what she has just accomplished - she has triumphed over every possible obstacle. Against all odds, the show has been a resounding success. The audience’s applause is still ringing in her ears as she sits to enjoy the silence.

As a sense of calm washes over her, Valentina finally rises and heads for the exit. She marvels that she’s pulled it off. She has deftly navigated through the chaos of the city, hurdled over puddles, and braved the unforgiving traffic. Even the fashion gods seem to be testing her, throwing a missing phone, a coffee stain, and a near-disaster with John Elabro in her path. But she has triumphed. As she approaches home, she is lost in thought, wondering about her deserved promotion, when she is jolted out of reverie by a voice screaming down from a second-floor window – “Hey Valentina, some guy driving a taxi dropped off your phone at the door earlier today. Said you had left it in his taxi this morning. I would have called you – but, hey, how would I do that?”

Valentina can’t suppress a chuckle as the realization hits her. Her beloved possession, the one that had caused her so much turmoil, has been safe and sound at home the whole day. Valentina shakes her head in disbelief, amused at the absurdity of it all, and a small smile plays on her lips as she heads inside. She is most definitely ready to put the chaos of the day behind her.