Ultimate Fashion Sense!

From A Fistful of Sky, by Nina Kiriki Hoffman:

It slammed into me, and I screamed, the impact was so unexpected!  But it didn’t hurt.  First there was heat, then a wave of flickery tingling, the sort of a champagne-bubbles-in-my-brain feeling.  I blinked a couple of times and stared at my sister.

“No, no, no,” I said.

Her hand dropped to her side.  “Ultimate Fashion Sense? What kind of curse is that?”

“You can’t possibly wear that skirt with that blouse.  Those socks!”

She glanced down at herself.  “What’s wrong with my socks?”

“Ribbed socks? With Plaid? Not midcalf height! Please! Either anklets or knee-highs.  And your hair? How can you live with it?”

“What’s wrong with my hair?”

“You can’t go out in public with that hair.  Come on.”  I grabbed her arm and dragged her upstairs.

“Gyp, what are you doing?”

“I have to cut your hair.  It’s imperative.  No one should have to live with looking at that any longer.”

“Gyp?”

I took her to the upstairs bathroom, sat her on the toilet, got the Fiskar scissors and a comb out of the drawer, wrapped a towel around her shoulders, and went to work.

“Gyp, what are you doing? You’re scaring me,” she said in a small voice.

“I’ll be done in a few. I won’t hurt you if you just sit perfectly still. Keep your eyes closed.” I wet the comb, tested different parts on her head, considered the results if I layered or cut straight across, allowing for the natural wave she had.  Colors. She should have maybe a light wash of something. “So what kind of sheild was that?”

“A reflector.”

“Clever.  It worked, huh?”

“I don’t know. Is Ultimate Fashion Sense really a curse?”

I tapped my upper palate with the tip of my tongue.  “You tell me.  I’m obsessed with details of appearance, and I don’t know what I’m doing.”  I scissored about ten inches of hair off the side of her head.

~ by shadowfirebird on June 30, 2008.