Wealth, status, and beauty define the elite of Kensington Prep. Every one of them possesses the ability to get away with anything and everything they want, unscathed and remain as privileged and superior as ever.
But Amory Scout decides that tim...
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February inches past us with teachers handing us back mid-semester exams and the whole senior year celebrating through an endless stream of parties, galas and celebrations. I've been drinking a lot, doing a lot of coke and dancing in clubs. I think our whole crew is on a bender.
Parker says this is just a prerequisite- that the post-exam celebrations is just a warm-up for Spring Break and then later Ultra, which I'm excited for because I've never been to a music festival. It's an over-eighteen event but because we are who we are- with our shiny fake IDs and do you who my daddy is, we manage to swing VIP passes. I spend my weekends planning outfits with Parker.
She takes me to pay a visit to her cousin, Caleb. Caleb is apparently a stylist to the stars and a design student currently enrolled at Parsons. Even though he's still two years into studying fashion design, he already owns a small boutique tucked in an alley on Columbus Circle. While the store lacks visibility like the flagship Chanel and Saks on Fifth Avenue, Caleb Holtz has already built a pretty lucrative clientele and is highly regarded for his custom-made festival pieces by some of the world's most famous influencers and celebrities.
Not to disregard his studied eye for colour and trends, but what Caleb truly offers is absolute discretion. No artists or celebrities want to be mobbed by paparazzi while they're sourcing pieces and neither do they want to be seen cultivating outfit ideas with one of the most sought after stylists in the world, risking getting him pinched out of their grasps. His designs and his boutique is said to be a particular favourite of Rihanna and Lady Gaga, what with his avant-garde pieces being fashioned and paraded at Coachella or Tomorrowland by the rich and famous.
So that's how I end up in a posh all-white space of Calcutta marble and cream walls with distinct silver hooks protruding out of the walls, displaying custom-made neon or bejewelled pieces. One of the items hanging on a metal hook next to the full-length mirrors framed with lightbulbs is an infamous-looking Balmain Nefertiti-inspired bodysuit and cape, all sequined in black and silver gems.
Caleb catches me looking as he pours me a flute of mimosa. "Oh, that Balmain piece is gorgeous, isn't it? One of my favourites Beyonce wore during her Coachella set."
I stare at him in shock. "You worked with Beyonce?"
Caleb throws me a wink as Parker chuckles at me. "Caleb had worked with a bunch of artists and celebs. When it comes to festivals or concerts, Caleb will make sure you look your absolute best."
"You're Orson Calloway's girlfriend, aren't you? Hmm, you're much prettier than you are online. Like a young green-eyed blonder Denise Richards, before all the botox and fillers," Caleb compliments me as he lifts a flute up to his lips.
"Oh...um thanks? How did you-"
"Sweetie, I do a little intel on any clients before they step through my door. And also, even though I graduated two years ago, I still keep up with the private school blogs once in a while. They're awfully fun."
