‘Fear not,mademoiselle, you ain’t borrowing this one. This is me Broccoli Spears frock, for Britney,’ she said,pulling a coniferous hat from her pocket and putting it on to sing. ‘I’m not a girl, not yet a woman…’
I smiled. ‘Brilliant! How many identities have you got?’
‘Oh, hundreds. Well, at least ten. I’m well known as Jackie Potato at Funny Girls in Blackpool so there’s a whole farmer’s wife sketch for that, but they wanted something more mass-market for the ship, so I decided on Barbie Queue. Keeps it clean for the oldies, you know?’
‘And gives you loads of Barbie options for frocks. Perfect.’
‘Naturally. I’ve got all the classic Barbie costumes. Binge-drinking Barbie, Lap-dancing Barbie, Boxset Barbie, and my personal favourite, Barbie Robs Banks. She’s a bugger, that one.’
‘Count me in for that show,’ I said, giggling. ‘Ahh, thanks, Barb, you’ve cheered me right up.’
‘I thought about calling myself Dry Jan, but I couldn’t quit drinking for the character, unless it was a different kind of dry of course. Then they asked me to consider a water theme, but Sue Nami seemed in bad taste.’
‘Well, Barbie Queue suits you.’
‘Thank you. And it means I get plenty of sausage, so I’m happy. Now then. Back to your dress dilemma.’
‘It needs to be chic and boring ideally. Have you got anything in black or white?’
She gave me a look. ‘Of course I have! I’ve got every colour of the rainbow in ’ere. My wardrobe isn’t just pantomime costumes, twinkle toes; I’ve had all sorts over the years from the great and good of the cruising world. Jane McDonald gave me a dress once. A slinky green number with a red sash. And there was that yellow and black abomination from Dame Edna Everage.Enormousof course, but I couldn’t say no.’ She frowned. ‘It might fit you, actually.’
‘Charming!’
‘I’ve got necklaces from both the Kylies – JennerandMinogue – Madonna’s beret, an eye mask from Cher…’
‘Really?’
‘Oh, yeah. I’ve got all the divas on my Snapchat and they’re always sending me stuff. My room is a veritable dressing-up box, sweetheart. Don’t you worry – I’ll find you something dinner-appropriate.’ She steered me past a handwritten sign with ‘ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK’ scrawled in black marker, and into an Aladdin’s cave. Rainbows flickered on the walls as the sun shone through a porthole and reflected off the sequins and sparkles. It was more fancy-dressugly sistersthan afancy dressfor dinner, but it was worth a shot. I eyed the bustier and flamenco skirt hanging from the wardrobe and Barb clocked my expression.
‘Trust me, Cinderella, I have excellent taste. Outside of this,’ she said grabbing a handful of the red satin. ‘And this…’ she said, gesturing to her costume. ‘What size are you? Twelve? Fourteen?’
‘Give or take,’ I replied, wiggling my waistband, which was tourniquet tight. I’d give her size fourteen a whirl. It would no doubt be some highly flammable number, made of cheap, itchy material, so I was very prepared to reject it before I had to go through the indignity of trying it on. She started rifling through the dresses, eventually disappearing into Narnia in a poof of faux fur.
‘Now then, where are they?’ she muttered, screeching through the coat hangers. I could only imagine the horrorsshe was hunting for. Hopefully not the yellow fishtail with the black dots I could see hooked on the mirror.
‘Aha!’ Barb said, holding a dress bag in the air, victorious. ‘Here we go.’
She unzipped it and pulled out two dresses. ‘I’ve got these beauties in black: a floor-length velvet batwing and a skintight bodycon with gold buttons.’
It was such a relief to see normal-looking dresses that had potential. If they fit me of course. I held them both up against me in front of the mirror and imagined myself as the black queen. Heidi would be seething if I turned up in one of these when she’d suggested I go as a prawn, but beggars can’t be choosers. Either dress would be fabulous and I couldn’t wait to try them on.
‘And then finally, one in cream…’ She held up a full-length shimmer of gorgeousness on a silky hanger, and I instantly fell in love. ‘They’ve all got names and this one isIvy.’ It was the most beautiful off-the-shoulder column dress in satin, covered in a zillion Swarovski crystals.
‘Wow,’ I said, completely gobsmacked. ‘OK, you’ve got me. I’m impressed. Any one of these could be the one, butIvyis my favourite.’
She gave me a knowing smile. ‘Told you! AND she stretches so she’ll fit like a dream.’
I couldn’t bear to hope it might, as Barb gestured me inside a makeshift changing room. ‘Try her on and let’s see,’ she said, closing the curtain behind me.
My clothes were off in half a second and I stepped inside the dress, the cool satin material easily stretching around my sizable arse. Borrowing dresses from drag queens wasthe way forward it seemed.It. Was. Stunning.I pulled the curtain back and Barbie whooped.
‘Seeeeeee!’ she said, doing a happy dance. ‘A perfect pour. Move aside, Gok Wan, Barb’s coming for yer job.’
‘Does it look alright?’ I said, admiring myself in the full-length mirror.
‘Absolutely bangin’, babe. I wouldn’t even bother trying the other two on. Hilary and Delia can go to someone else. You just need a touch of jewellery to finish the look and you’re done. I’ve got tiaras, headbands, earrings – clip on, obviously – bangles, turbans… knock yourself out.’ Barb grabbed accessories from every crevice of the room and laid them all out on the table. Pearls, diamantés, silk scarves and feather boas. It was like the haberdashery department at Liberty’s. I chose a silver headband encrusted with coloured jewels and a matching clutch. I’d never looked more glamorous.
‘Like an absolute queen,’ Barb said, clicking her fingers. ‘Not a drag queen, though, obviously.Thattakes real effort.’
