Pieces // H.S

Chapter 18: Harry: I took a car down town...

After ending the call from Jane’s manager, I ran up the stairs to the wardrobe. I needed to check if that old suit of mine was still viable for tonight’s award ceremony. The last time I had to go to one of these things, I had a whole team for wardrobe, hair and makeup. This time, I thought, it would be a DIY job. Once I was happy that I could reuse the suit for this occasion I hopped down to the gym to do a fifteen minute run on the running machine. I was about seven minutes into the run when a video call came from Jane’s wardrobe department. I answered it but continued on the running machine.

A face of a middle-aged woman came up. She was dressed smartly, with large glasses halfway down her nose. She cut to the chase, asking me if it was true that I was accompanying Jane tonight. After being assured that I was going, she asked me clothing sizes and what weight I was, information she would need to put an outfit together. I tried telling her that I already had some clothes I could wear but she was having none of it.

“Don’t you know who you have been selected to accompany tonight? My client will not be taken around by some scruffy early-twenty-year-old. Ugh! I’m sending a Hair team to sort you out now. Take a shower once you finish your run, as well. I’m glad this isn’t a scented video call. Hair should be with you in about half an hour.”

With that, she ended the call. I didn’t smell that bad, but she didn’t look like the sort of person to start an argument with.

I took her advice. I took a long shower until the alert went for the door. The team for hair came precisely when the woman had said they would. The lead hairdresser pushed me down into one of my kitchen chairs and another clipped an apron around me to stop the hair from sticking to my wet t-shirt.

“My, my! We have let those layers grow out! You probably won’t remember, but I cut your hair, once, just after the premier of your film…”

The hairdresser rattled on about how he had various connections to me, but I phased and focused on what conversation I would have to make this evening with Jane. What was she going to expect of me tonight?

Once my hair had been reshaped into its classic style and the hair team left my house, I was bombarded again by wardrobe. The middle-aged lady that I had seen earlier today, lead in about six people all carrying suits and various evening wear.

“Jane will be wearing a short, maroon dress, but there’s no point explaining that to you. That means you have to wear some red to show that you’re escorting her. Well, that’s the fashion at the moment. Take that dreadful shirt off, it shows all those disgusting tattoos. No! Don’t take it off here, in your bedroom. First try this one!”

She shoved a posh black and white shirt, blazer and skin tight black trousers through the gap in my bedroom door. I came out to show her but she shook her head saying “Too noughties”. She then made me try on eight or so other outfits before deciding on a plain white shirt, a black blazer and loose black chinos. Another one of the assistants handed me a reddish-maroon tie as I came through the door for the team once again. The woman promptly clapped, applauding the team’s work. The team bounced around excitedly in the hallway. My tie was tightened and the pristine jacket was dusted.

“Makeup!” The woman shouted clearing her team from the hallway and ushering the makeup team through to the kitchen. She pushed me into a chair, and then she retreated allowing six or seven people to pluck my eyebrows, cleanly shave my face and put all sorts of products on my face. Once they had stopped another person from behind brushed my hair back into its normal shape.

Another man with a clipboard and an earpiece chattering in his ear came in and shooed the rest of the people that remained away. He listed my exact routine.