“So,” Calla says, “you’ve been changing Margaret’s look recently. I loved the blue satin Chanel ballet flats on her during the tour. Not a huge change for her, but one that had big impact.”
Griff’s expression softens. “That was one of my favorite picks. A little more fun than her usual.”
“Exactly. She’s been such an industry icon for so long that too big of a change all at once would have felt wrong. You couldn’t have rebranded her like Damian did for Kane without seeing a lot of backlash from her fans and the fashion press. But making things a little more fun, adding a few fresh pieces, keeping her overall aesthetic but giving it a more modern, softer flavor… I think you’re going to inspire a generation of older women into updating their wardrobes.” She smiles winningly at him.
He laughs, an actual, genuine chuckle. “Thanks, but that might be pushing it a bit far.” Despite the modest reply, there’s a pleased gleam in his eye and a smug set to his smile.
Calla didn’t say anything that wasn’t true—she and I talked about this during the tour last summer and again when we were planning for this appointment—and he’s clearly had the same thoughts. Is that why he’s changing Margaret’s style? Is this about hubris—an attempt to make an impression and get some press? Maybe a feature inVogueorHarper’sabout the man who redefined style?
“What inspired the change, if you don’t mind me asking?” Calla asks on cue, once again reading my mind. Or maybe we’vejust spent so much time together that we now think the same way.
Griff shrugs. “Margaret wanted something a little different. One of the benefits of having the kind of longevity and reputation she has is that she has creative control of her career. She’s one of a kind.” He meets my gaze, then looks away dismissively. “Speaking of things that are one of a kind, was that top part of the fall collection?”
I blink in confusion. What top? We haven’t showed?—
Wait, does he mean the top Calla’s wearing? The one I made from offcuts because she was bitching about the way everything fit a few years back? It’s cute because even with a “scrap” top, I couldn’t bring myself to make something ugly, but he can’t want that for Margaret. It would be completely wrong for her. I can’t see Margaret Haywood wearing mismatched patchwork with sheer panels.
“Nope,” Calla says with a mischievous grin. “This one was a custom design for me because Phil loves me.”
Griff’s attention doesn’t shift my way, not even for a second. “Oh?”
“Yeah.” Her foot bumps mine affectionately. “It was a few seasons ago, when every top in existence was stretchy or fitted—or both. I can’t work if I feel restricted by my clothing in any way, so I’d pretty much been complaining for three months. Instead of telling me to shut up, sit down at the sewing machine, and make myself something, Phil designed and constructed a one-of-a-kind top just for me from some of the most expensive fabrics we had.”
If I could speak right now, I’d probably make a dry comment about how I fished them all out of the scrap bag, but she wouldn’t care. Patchworking remnants together to make a piece that’s useable for garment construction takes so much time and effort that even if I’d made that top from calico scraps, the costin work hours would make it more expensive than if I’d used a whole piece of high-end fabric—which I could have done. But I didn’t just want to give her a top she could work in; I wanted her to have a funky piece she’d love to wear.
But Griff wouldn’t care about any of that.
“Really?” he says coolly. “Well, then, what’ll it take to get something similar?”
Calla’s expression turns doubtful. “For Margaret?”
He shakes his head. “No. For Daria Keys.”
I swear my heart stops beating and then starts again in a thunderous rush that makes me want to gasp for air. Calla turns wide eyes to me, but we both know what my answer is.
Fuckyes.
Daria Keys and her twin brother, Dorian (because clearly their parents wanted them to suffer) are half of the pop-rock band Quixotic. The whole band is openly queer and somehow manages to straddle the line between being edgy and mainstream. Nobody knows how to classify their music or their vibe, but they recently finished their second US stadium tour, and it was a sold-out success.
I’m already mentally sorting through the fabrics I’d use for Daria when Calla says, “We can discuss it. Since it would be custom, there’s the possibility of her having some input on the options, or you can leave it up to Phil and we’d offer it in exchange for a couple of pap walks.”
Given that the biggest cost is likely to be time, a couple of pap walks—carefully chosen outings where photographers have been tipped off ahead of time and are guaranteed to take pictures—wearing the garment would more than pay for it. Within minutes of the pictures appearing online, someone will have ID’d the top as being by Phallacy, and that kind of publicity can’t be bought.
“One pap walk,” Griff says slowly. “You’ll make it in mostly black and gray”—Thankfully, Calla opens her mouth to protest.If we’re not being paid cash, I’m not designing to spec—“and she’ll also wear it in the video for Quixotic’s upcoming single.”
Calla’s mouth snaps closed, and I wonder if it would be unprofessional of me to pinch myself. If Daria Keys wears a Phallacy garment in a music video, it’ll get us that much closer to launching a luxury ready-to-wear line. We have the business plan for it already, but since we’re not willing to sell our souls to investors, we agreed to wait until we have more clout to negotiate with—five to ten years.
This could make it three to five.
“We’d need to discuss that privately,” Calla says at last. “Plus I’m sure you want to talk to Daria and the studio.”
We’ve been burned by stylist promises before—sometimes they don’t have the right to offer what they do. I won’t start work on anything without signed contracts in place, and Calla’s subtle little warning tells Griff that.
“I’ll run it past her, sure,” he agrees. “But I’ve already been given the brief to dress the band for the video, so whenever you’re ready, we can talk.”
“Expect to hear from me in the next couple of days,” Calla promises. “But in the meantime, you came here to talk about Margaret.”
Oh my god, that’s right. The chance to design a red-carpet gown for Margaret Haywoodanda top for Daria Keys? It’s like fucking Christmas here today.
