Knot Too Shabby! Page 3

  When the girls walked up, Zoey’s dad and Ms. Austen smiled at the two of them. Zoey’s dad grabbed the girls’ heavy backpacks while Ms. Austen wished them both a good summer.

  “Enjoy meeting Daphne Shaw,” Ms. Austen said to Zoey. “I can’t wait to read all about it on Sew Zoey.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Knotty and Very Nice

  School is officially over! And on the last day, I received the cutest hedgehog-shaped pincushion from Fashionsista. Thank you sooo much! I love it. In fact, I’m wearing it on my wrist right now as I type, even though I’m not sewing anything! I googled hedgehogs, and they are the most adorable little creatures—and useful, too, because they eat garden pests.

  I’m having a hard time eating anything right now—my stomach is tied up in knots about the upcoming visit to Daphne Shaw’s studio. I keep running through various scenarios in my head, trying to think of what I’ll say so that I won’t sound like a total fashion newbie. The problem is, I don’t have any idea what to expect. But if Ms. Shaw is by any chance taking time out of her busy schedule to read this blog post, please don’t take this the wrong way—I’m nervous, yes, but I’m also SUPER DUPER EXCITED, and the excited part is definitely outweighing the nervous part!

  “I can’t believe we’re on our way!” Zoey exclaimed as the car whizzed under a New York directional sign on the highway. “I’m going to meet DAPHNE SHAW!!”

  “It’s pretty exciting, isn’t it?” her dad said, smiling. “Am I fashionable enough in my new duds to accompany you?”

  “You’ll pass,” Zoey said. “In fact, you might just be a trendsetter!”

  “Well, you look great too, honey,” her father said. “I’m so proud of my little girl.”

  “I’m not so little anymore,” Zoey said.

  “I know,” Dad said. “That’s a problem we dads have. Even when you’re a grown woman, it’ll be hard for me to stop thinking of you as my little girl.”

  “Promise me you won’t say any little girl stuff or do anything else embarrassing in front of Daphne Shaw?”

  “Scout’s honor,” her dad said. “I’ll do my best to be the least-embarrassing father alive.”

  “That’s a relief,” Zoey said. “Because Daphne Shaw is like the coolest person in the whole fashion industry, and I’m already worried about making a fool of myself.”

  “You’ll do fine, Zo,” Dad said. “Just be yourself. Daphne was a young girl just starting out once upon a time too.”

  It was hard for Zoey to imagine Daphne Shaw as a girl her age. Daphne seemed so confident and sophisticated in her Très Chic interviews—not at all like how Zoey felt.

  “It’s too bad Priti couldn’t come to New York with us,” she said. “I think she was really disappointed, even though she said she wasn’t.”

  “I’m sure she was disappointed,” Dad said. “But I think she’s going to sleepaway camp soon. That should be a fun for her.”

  “Wait . . . how do you know that?” Zoey asked, her brow furrowing with confusion. “Priti told us her parents were nagging her about it, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to go.”

  Her father’s face grew serious. It took on the same tense, troubled look he had the week before when she thought he was upset about her going to New York with Libby instead of with him.

  “Look, Zo—I don’t want to lie to you, but I’m telling you this in confidence. Mr. Holbrooke called me the other night to ask a favor,” he said, his hands gripping the steering wheel. “Priti’s parents have been trying to encourage her to go to sleepaway camp for two reasons: because they genuinely do think she’ll have a good time, but also because they need some time alone to work on their marriage. They’re thinking that maybe taking a vacation without the kids—something they haven’t done in years—might be a good way to do that.”

  “But Priti doesn’t seem like she wants to go,” Zoey said. “She was upset because she felt like her parents were trying to get rid of her.”

  “Oh, poor Priti—it’s not that at all,” Dad said. “The Holbrookes just need a little time alone to sort things out. Tara and Sashi already found programs they want to go to, but Priti doesn’t want to go away, and I think her parents are worried about telling her the truth. That’s why Mr. Holbrooke called me. He thinks Priti would be happier about the idea if she could go with a friend . . . and he asked me if you’d be willing to go. I told him I’d have to talk to you—I’m not going to force you, but I think it could be a really fun experience for the two of you.”

  Zoey wasn’t so sure.

  “But Priti said it was a theater camp. Drama is more Priti’s thing than mine.”

  “Actually it’s not just a theater camp. It’s a fine arts camp, and they also have the usual camp activities, like canoeing and campfires,” her dad explained. “They’re holding two spaces for you and Priti. If you decide to go, then you’d leave in two weeks and do a six-week session. What do you think?”

  “Can I think about it?” Zoey asked.

  “Sure, honey—I know I just sprang this on you. I told Mr. Holbrooke I’d let him know by Monday morning, so you’ve got the whole weekend to think about it.”

  It turned out Zoey didn’t need that long to think—because almost immediately, she began to imagine how much fun it could be to go to sleepaway arts camp with Priti. All of those artsy and campy activities while having a summer-long sleepover and helping Priti’s parents work on their marriage? It was a total win-win. Maybe even a win-win-win.

  “I’ll do it,” she told her dad.

  “That was quick,” he said. “Are you sure?”

  “It’s okay. It’ll be fun. And even if it isn’t, if it helps Priti’s parents stay together, it’ll be worth it.”

  Zoey’s father reached over and gave her hand a squeeze.

  “Thanks for being so grown-up about this, Zo. I know you’re going to have a great time,” her dad said. “I hope it helps the Holbrookes, too. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

  “Priti’s really worried about her parents getting divorced. She doesn’t always show it, but she is.”

  “I know, honey. And her parents will really appreciate you being such a good friend to her by giving them time this summer to work on things,” Dad said. “I’ll call the Holbrookes tonight and tell them you’ve agreed to go, and also that I’ve told you the reason why, so they should be honest with Priti and tell her what’s going on.”

  With summer plans to talk about, the rest of the ride passed quickly. It seemed like no time before they were approaching Manhattan, with the New York City skyline laid out before them.

  “It looks just like a postcard, doesn’t it?” Zoey sighed. “I can hardly believe it’s real.”

  “I know what you mean,” her dad said. “Unfortunately, this traffic is all too real. If it doesn’t start moving, we’re going to be late.”

  “No! We can’t be late!” Zoey panicked. “Not for Daphne Shaw! What will she think?”

  “She’ll think we got stuck in traffic, which happens all the time,” her dad said.

  Fortunately, the traffic started moving, and they made it to a parking garage near Daphne’s studio with a little time to spare. As they walked the few blocks to the building, Zoey’s head swiveled from one direction to the other as she tried to take in all the cool clothes and funky hairstyles she saw on the street.

  Daphne Shaw Atelier was housed in a converted warehouse. The reception area was very modern, light, and airy, thanks to the huge windows and high ceilings. Abstract art and larger-than-life photographs from Daphne’s runway shows were hung on exposed brick walls and lit in a way that highlighted them perfectly. Almost everything else was white, even the furniture.

  “Aunt Lulu would love this place,” Zoey whispered to her dad.

  “She sure would,” Dad said. Then he nodded in the direction of a young male employee wearing a fedora. “Hey, do you think I’d look good in that?”

  “Wow, Dad,” Zoey said. “We might just make you a fashion i
con yet!”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Dad said. “Baby steps.”

  “Wow, speaking of baby steps, look at that woman’s high heels. I wonder how she walks in them,” Zoey confessed, looking in the direction of a woman pushing a garment rack. “I mean, I hope wearing sky-high heels isn’t a requirement to work in fashion. I like my comfy Converse!”

  “I say wear whatever you want,” her dad said. “And high heels can wait.”

  Seeing all the fashionably dressed employees, Zoey started worrying about her outfit. She was wearing an apple-print sundress she had made in honor of her trip to the Big Apple, a taxi-shaped purse, and ankle-tie flats. She’d felt good about it when she looked in the mirror in her bedroom at home, but here in Daphne Shaw’s chic office . . . she wasn’t so sure she had made the right choice. She didn’t feel grown up at all.

  “Hi, you must be Zoey!”

  Zoey had been so busy checking out the lobby that she hadn’t noticed the petite, dark-haired girl in top-to-toe black who’d come out to greet her.

  “Yes . . . that’s me,” Zoey said. “And this is my dad.”

  “Hi, Dad,” the girl said. “I’m Jessie, one of Daphne’s assistants. She’s waiting to meet you in her office.”

  Zoey’s heart felt like it skipped a beat. After dreaming about this moment for so long, she was finally going to meet the amazing and inspirational Daphne Shaw, her fashion idol!

  They followed Jessie down a long hallway lined with framed photographs and sketches from past collections.

  Daphne Shaw’s office was at the end of the corridor; a large room with skylights and big windows and crisp, clean, modern design. And right in the middle of it, standing behind her desk, holding up fabric swatches to the light, was Daphne Shaw herself. She was tall and elegant, wearing metallic stilettos, a navy pencil skirt, and a fitted white blazer topped off by a chunky necklace made of geometric persimmon-colored beads.

  “Zoey!” Daphne said, coming from behind the desk to give Zoey a brief, scented hug. “What an adorable dress! I’m so happy we finally get to meet in real life. . . . I feel as if I already know you from reading your delightful blog.”

  Please, mouth, open and speak! Zoey thought. For a moment, she was so awestruck to be in the presence of her greatest fashion inspiration that she wasn’t sure if her brain remembered how.

  “I am, t-too!” she finally stuttered.

  She had a minute to pull herself together while Daphne greeted her father, complimenting him on his fashion sense.

  After glancing around the room again, Zoey finally had the courage to speak. “I really love your office, Ms. Shaw.”

  “Thanks, Zoey, I designed it myself. And, please, call me Daphne.”

  “Okay, um . . . Daphne,” Zoey replied. “Well, would it be okay to take a picture for my aunt? She’s an interior designer, and she’d think it was so cool. Also, I don’t want to forget one single thing about today.”

  “Of course,” Daphne said. “And feel free to post it on your blog, too.”

  “Why don’t you let me take it so you and Daphne can be in the picture together,” Dad suggested.

  “Yes—great idea,” Daphne agreed.

  Zoey gave her father her phone and went to stand next to Daphne in front of her desk.

  “Say ‘fromage,’ ” Dad said.

  Daphne laughed and obliged. Zoey was too busy pretending to smile and not cringe as her father took the picture. Why couldn’t Dad just say “cheese” like normal fathers?

  When her father handed her back the phone, Zoey showed it to Daphne.

  “Wonderful! You’re very photogenic, Zoey,” Daphne said.

  Zoey didn’t think she looked that great in pictures, but she was excited to have a souvenir of her visit to Daphne’s office to post on her blog.

  “Are you going to join us on the tour of the studio?” Daphne asked Zoey’s dad. “You’re welcome to stay.”

  “Actually, I’ve arranged to meet an old college buddy for lunch,” Dad said. “So I’ll leave you two to talk fashion.”

  He gave Zoey a hug.

  “Have a great time, honey. See you later.”

  “Have fun too, Dad,” Zoey said.

  She had to confess—she was a little relieved her dad wasn’t staying. Even the best dads in the world could be embarrassing at times, and she’d already been struck speechless in front of Daphne Shaw. She didn’t need any further embarrassment.

  “Well, we better get started,” Daphne said after Dad left with Jessie. “We’ve got a busy day ahead of us.”

  Zoey saw Daphne slipping something shiny into her desk drawer as she said it but couldn’t see what it was. She forgot about it almost immediately as she followed Daphne out of her office, down the hallway, and into the showroom, where items from her latest collection were on display. The conference room featured a long, brushed-metal table and comfortable office chairs. The walls were lined with inspiration boards and fabric swatches, sketches, and color palettes. There was a small lunchroom with artistic drawings of vegetables on the walls.

  “Did you do those, too?” Zoey asked.

  “No, one of my assistants did,” Daphne said. “I liked her drawings so much, I bought them and framed them.”

  Zoey thought Daphne sounded like a nice boss. She hoped she would be like her someday.

  But Zoey’s favorite part of the whole studio was the workroom. It was the biggest room of all—light and airy with big tables upon which the sample makers were cutting fabric, and industrial sewing machines where seamstresses were working on pieces. In another part of the workroom, embroiderers put the final touches on sleek, elegant pieces from the fall collection. In yet another corner, a draper worked with fabric on a dress form.

  “There’s never a dull moment around here. As soon as we finish one collection, it’s on to the next one,” Daphne explained.

  An adorable little Yorkie came trotting over from behind one of the tables and went straight to Daphne, who picked her up. Zoey couldn’t believe her eyes because the dog was wearing one of her Doggie Duds creations!

  “Zoey, I’d like you to meet my little darling, Coco. She’s named after Coco Chanel.”

  “She’s wearing the Buttons!” Zoey exclaimed.

  Zoey had designed two styles of dog outfits: one named for Aunt Lulu’s late dog, Draper, the inspiration for Doggie Duds, and the other, more feminine version named after Buttons, Aunt Lulu’s current dog.

  “Yes! I loved your designs so much, I had to order two different versions of the Buttons for Coco,” Daphne said. “She loves them, don’t you, precious?”

  Zoey remembered Daphne had ordered one of her outfits but didn’t remember her buying two. How cool! And she couldn’t believe Daphne liked them enough to let her dog wear them to the office. She asked Daphne if it was okay to take a picture of her holding Coco, and Daphne agreed. She posed with Coco right there in the middle of her workroom!

  Daphne put down Coco and glanced at her watch.

  “Have you worked up an appetite yet?” she asked. “I’ve got lunch reservations for us at a darling little restaurant around the corner.”

  Zoey realized that she was hungry—starving, in fact. It had been a long time since she and her dad ate breakfast, but she’d been so excited about everything Daphne was showing her that she hadn’t really paid attention to her tummy rumbling.

  “Yes, I am,” she said.

  “Great, let’s go eat!” Daphne said.

  Zoey was worried that the restaurant would be really fancy and she’d feel out of place, but it turned out to be a homey little Italian spot, with red-and-white checkered tablecloths, filled with the delicious aromas of warm bread, olive oil, and garlic. The owner knew Daphne and kissed her on both cheeks, European style, when she walked in the door.

  “This is my very talented young friend Zoey Webber,” Daphne introduced, and Zoey thought she might faint with pride. It wasn’t every day that you got to hear your fashion idol call
you very talented!

  “Delighted to meet you, Signorina Webber,” the owner said. “I’ll take you both to the usual table.”

  Daphne’s usual table was in a small private alcove overlooking the garden in the back of the restaurant, which contained artfully placed planters filled with green shrubs and colorful blooms. It almost made Zoey forget she was in the middle of New York City.

  “You know, Zoey, I see a lot of myself in you,” Daphne said after they’d ordered. “I started sewing when I was about your age.”

  “When you were in middle school, did you ever think that you’d be a famous fashion designer like you are now?” Zoey asked.

  “Oh, I fantasized about it. But when I was sketching and sewing outfits in my room back in middle school, I would never have believed that I’d have my own studio and fashion line,” Daphne said. “Sometimes, I still have to pinch myself because I can’t believe I get to live my dream and be successful at it. It just seems too good to be true.”

  Zoey sighed. “I hope that happens to me,” she said.

  “You’ve made a good start with your blog and your businesses,” Daphne praised. “You learn from each success on the way—and from your mistakes. In fact, sometimes you can learn as much from your worst mistakes as you do from your biggest successes.”

  Zoey wasn’t sure she wanted to make too many worst mistakes, even if she did learn a lot from them. Making mistakes was never fun.

  After a delicious meal, Daphne took out a small compact and reapplied her lipstick and lip gloss. It was the same brand Fashionsista had sent her as a gift when she was appearing as a guest judge on Fashion Showdown.

  “I have that exact same lip gloss!” she exclaimed. “I love it! One of my blog readers sent it to me as a present.”

  “Really?” Daphne said. “I’m not surprised. It’s a cult favorite—very popular these days.”

  Zoey had been saving her Fashionsista lip gloss for special occasions because she wanted it to last for a long time, but now that she knew Daphne Shaw wore it too, she was going to have to save it for extra special occasions.