Being Audrey Hepburn

“What do you mean?” After another sip of champagne, I figured I might as well go for it. “Lilac isn’t really your color, and the dress cuts you right across the bust, a very unflattering silhouette,” I concluded. When an alarmed look crossed Tabitha’s face, I realized that Valerie was standing right behind me, and I regretted my words immediately.

I turned to Valerie to apologize. “I am terribly sorry. I’m sure you know better,” I said and braced myself for a dressing down. Valerie seemed to be trying to regroup. It dawned on me that if Tabitha had a personal shopper since she was ten, and her mother hadn’t been around, she may not have thought about her look independently for a long time. Valerie was her only support, her trusted advisor, and I certainly hadn’t intended to interfere. I watched as Valerie put on her cherished glasses and examined the dress again.

“She’s right, Tabitha,” Valerie said after a moment. “I’m not sure why I never saw that before.” Tabitha brightened. “Your friend Lisbeth is quite astute,” she continued. “Do you have any other suggestions?”

“Well, do you mind me adding?” I waited for the nod from Valerie. “You might try mixing and matching a bit more, like this Dolce and Gabbana blouse with this piece,” I said, grabbing a vintage skirt from a nearby table that was part of a window display they were putting together. I couldn’t believe I was acting like such an expert. It was so much fun to get my hands on these clothes and play with them.

“It’s nice to see you with such an intelligent and sensitive friend,” Valerie said to Tabitha. “And she has such a terrific sense of design.” Tabitha glowed instinctively, as if she had been singled out herself.

“You do have the most incredible taste,” Tabitha said, relieved that Valerie had given me the seal of approval. “You just see stuff and put it together. No wonder your fashion blog is so incredible.”

“Fashion blog?” Valerie asked.

“Yes, Valerie, Lisbeth is that Shades of Limelight blog,” Tabitha said. “Isak Guerrere loves it.”

“I’m sorry, I haven’t heard of that one, but I have to admit I’m a bit of a Luddite,” she said. “I will definitely look it up.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“And I’ll make a note to the marketing department to send you some samples to review,” she said and scribbled herself a note. “You never know, they may even ask you to consult for us.”

Consult? Me? Hmmm, I could only hope.

Moments later, Tabitha strutted in front of the mirror in a jade-green romper with knee-high boots. “So, which ones are you getting?” she asked, looking at her hips in the mirror. “You absolutely have to get the silver dress. I’m not letting you leave the store without it.”

“I’m not sure,” I said, trying to think of any excuse she might believe other than “I only have thirty-seven dollars in my purse, and my credit cards couldn’t pay for this even if they weren’t maxed out.” My skin flushed, embarrassed that window-shopping wasn’t going to cut it any longer.

“And you absolutely have to have those shoes.”

When Valerie returned for Tabitha’s clothes, Tabitha said simply, “I’ll take them all, except the lilac dress of course,” and gave me a nod.

Then Valerie turned to me, awaiting my choices. I was tongue-tied. They expected an answer.

“Lisbeth will take the silver dress and the leopard heels,” Tabitha jumped in.

Valerie quickly whisked the dress and shoes out of my dressing room and took them to the counter. Tabitha changed back into her clothes, and we walked over to the counter to pay.

How would I get out of this? I struggled for the barest hint of a plan. I put my bag on the counter and began digging through it and was struck with an idea.

“It was here a moment ago,” I said, just loud enough that Tabitha could hear. Then I gave Tabitha a desperate look. “Shoot,” I said, rifling through my bag. “It’s gone!” Valerie wasn’t sure what was happening. But she registered my alarm. “I can’t find my wallet!” I said.

“Did you misplace it somewhere here?” Valerie asked.

“I wouldn’t think so,” I said, feigning distress. “I’m sure I had it earlier.” I was getting so worked up, even I thought I might manage to burst out in tears.

“Are you okay?” Tabitha asked.

“Do you think it could have been stolen?” Valerie asked.

“I just don’t know,” I said. “It’s not about the money or the cards. It’s that the wallet was a gift.” Meanwhile, I had been digging in my bag so long, I couldn’t help actually coming across my actual wallet, but I kept that to myself.

“Well, let me call Security immediately,” Valerie said. She turned to pick up a phone nearby.

“I’m so embarrassed. I don’t want to inconvenience anyone,” I said. “I was certain I took it this morning, but maybe when I changed handbags? Or did I drop it at the studio? No need to bother Security.”

“I’ll call Mocha now to check with the studio,” Tabitha said.

“It’s not a problem, dear. Security will be here in a moment. Meanwhile, Erica…? Please check everywhere,” Valerie said, and Erica, her assistant, began assiduously checking every corner of the dressing area for a wallet she’d never find.

“Perhaps it would be best if you wouldn’t mind holding these, and I’ll just come back later.”

“Absolutely,” Valerie said. Ah, finally, my plan worked. No harm, no foul.

“No, no, don’t worry,” Tabitha insisted matter-of-factly. “Just add her things to my tab.” Ugh, that was considerably worse.

“Oh no, you shouldn’t,” I said, yanking the shoes and the silver dress away from the counter.

Tabitha shrugged. “It’s really no big deal.” Valerie reached out her hands for the dress and shoes. I felt like a deer caught in the headlights. After a few agonizing seconds, I handed them over. It was so unfair—two against one.

“I promise to pay you back,” I said and bit my tongue, literally, wishing I could swallow those words as soon as they left my mouth. Only someone without money worries about her friend buying her something when she doesn’t have the cash to pay for it. Wealthy people simply don’t worry about such things. I had outed myself. What a mess. Tabitha regarded me with concern. I didn’t see a way out of this. I summoned my saddest face, hoping to distract her.

“Lisbeth, it’s okay. I’m sure we’ll find your wallet,” she said. “And if I can’t buy my friends something, what good is all the money? I’m sure you’ll return the favor someday,” she said.

“Valerie, ring them up.”

“You simply don’t have to,” I said.

“Don’t be silly,” Tabitha said, “it’s nothing.”

It’s not nothing, I thought. It’s five thousand dollars.

35

With my wallet charade behind me, Tabitha and I could both relax. Tabitha seemed to forget my faux pas immediately, no longer self-conscious that I wasn’t buying anything. Now she could get down to seriously splashing the cash on Fifth Ave.

During this shopathon with Tabitha, I discovered an aspect of shopping I never knew existed—shoptailing—the art of shopping while partaking of numerous cocktails. Forget Breakfast at Tiffany’s—think Champagne at Versace. Barneys was just the begi

I smiled and declined to imbibe. Besides, I had found a better way to get high. As we waltzed through Fendi and Cartier, then Prada and Gucci, I stopped worrying about my worthless credit card. I couldn’t even buy what the shopgirls were wearing, but I could steal pure nirvana under the bright lights of Fifth Avenue’s impressive shops.