The Same Girl [ON HOLD]

Five💔

The next morning, entirely against my will, Sie asked Aunt Jane to drop us off at the mall and leads us to her favourite store- Bling. Everything inside, including the staff, is either see-through, rubber, glittery, or some combination thereof.

Behind the counter, a brunette only a few years older than us flips through the pages of this month's Celeb Style and bobs her head to the techno bass filling the store.

Never deterred by anyone wearing a black rubber halter-top, Sie taps on the counter. "Hi," she shouts over the music, "did you get the new swimsuits yet?"

Rubbergirl, whose ripped denim shorts look like underwear with pockets, raised an eyebrow at her and jerked her head towards the far corner of the store. "Thanks," Sie says.

"Whatever." Rubbergirl turn the page and releases a long, my-life-is-so-hard sigh.

Luckily Mum isn't here to witness this exchange, or we'd be waiting around for Bling management so she could share a long and painful commentary on how Rubbergirl's lack of customer focus reflects poorly on the entire clothing industry.

"She's new," Sie promised me, dragging me to the corner where Rubbergirl so obligingly directed us.

After handing me the camera with instructions to keep filming no matter what, Sie takes a deep breath and gets to work. She weaves her way through racks of swimsuits, passing over colours or styles that are 'so last year' or 'too blah blah for the beach.' When she finds something with potential, she tugs not he fabric to stimulate a hard day at the beach and holds its up to the light to see if it has the right amount of see-through-ability.

After fifteen minutes or so of hunting and gathering, Sie emerges from the racks with an arm load of try-ons. A broken fingernail and a slight breathlessness are her only battle scars.

Sie hands me half of the swimsuits. "Here, you take this half, and then we'll switch." She passes me a pile of shiny, sparkling swimmers as we move into the fitting room and hole up in stalls next to each other.

"I think we should stick with black," I say to Sie as I crack open the dressing room to show her a particularly horrible orange thing stretched across my backside- the third suit I've tried on. "It's supposed to be slimming."

Sie sends me a look. "Everyone wear black," Sie tells me. "And we don't need slimming. We need something fun. Something-ew! Not that fun!" She shoves me back into the stall before any passing shoppers can associate her with the orange girl in fitting room B.

Six more try-ons. Six more reflects. Okay, maybe last year's yellow one piece with the daisy neckline still has potential.

"Sie, this is hopeless. Can't I just wear my-"

"No," she says, stepping out of the stall. "You are not allowed to mention the yellow suit again. I think I found one I like, come see."

I crack open my door. Sie is standing in a white wrap n front of the three-way mirror. She opens the wrap to reveal a baby blue halter-style suit that ties at the neck and hips and covers just enough of her to leave people wandering. It was made for her- evidenced by the women gathering around her like lost sheep seeking her guidance through the tangled pastures of Bling's swimwear collection.

"Oh, my God, that's it!" I emerge from my stall and hug her as though she is trying on wedding dresses. "You look stunning!"

"Does it make me look too fat?" She this at the bottom and turns back and forth to look at her butt and stomach in the three-way mirror. "What about my ribs? I have man-ribs."

One of the ladies laughs. "Honey," she says, "if I had that body, I'd go to the beach naked."

Sie smiles while the other women agree and a little girl stares. Celeb Style, here she comes.