54. Symbolism
Symbolism
BETTY
“You should meet her on the red carpet,” Ingrid said. “Oh, the teal is so nice.”
She offered a dress from the wardrobe cart provided by UniVox. They sent nothing but very fancy dresses, which I didn’t mind. But I needed to choose three for the evening and the choices were endless.
“I.. I don’t think that would be the best idea,” I held up the dress.
“Why?” Ingrid asked. “You should get to walk the opening red carpet together.”
“It looks like favoritism.” I shook my head.
“You can’t vote,” Cici snickered. “I like the teal. That could be great for the opening segment. It’s not anyone’s colors.”
“I like the fuchsia one, too,” I unhooked a sparkly fascia minidress trimmed with pink feathers. “But maybe it’s too much… or too short?”
I looked to Cici for advice, but she was on board. “Pappa won’t say shit about the dress. He’s given up with policing wardrobes for fear of Mamma’s ire. You should wear it. It’s campy and fun.”
I groaned, tugging on it and wishing like hell any of this was easier.
“Are you not feeling it?” Cici asked. “Because I think it’s perfect.”
“It’s just… it feels like this big choice.”
“You’re coming out, Bets,” Ingrid said. “I don’t mean to tell you how to do it, but like, if you can’t wear a dress with feathers to your coming out party… when can you?”
“It’s not even that,” I admitted. “I got outed and I will unpack that another day. It’s that I’m about to go public at the same event as Mary. Is this the vibe we want to project? I’ve never dated anyone famous!”
Cici put her arms on my shoulders and shook me playfully.
“Have fun with it. UniVox is about camp and love and happiness. You are the vibe. Walk the red carpet with her or not, wear a flour sack or couture, it won’t matter.
Everyone knows the truth. They way you love each other is palpable, sweetie. ”
I blushed. “Fine. I’ll wear this, the teal, and the red dress for the middle-of the performance option.”
“And you’ll walk the red carpet with your girlfriend,” Cici said, voice serious.
“It’s going to be seen as… as…”
“Electioneering? Oh, it’s not that serious!
Norway doesn’t have a chance in hell at winning.
Sweden is out. The Germans are fine if not a little weird.
BASH! isn’t about to run away with it. The winner will no doubt be Mary and The Zamboneys.
She’s going to kick ass and will be even better if she can hold your hand on that red carpet. ”
A knock forced my attention to my aunt. The box she held set me off.
I threw my hands up. “I’m not wearing it.”
“What?” Aunt Kiersten asked.
“Don’t come to me with that Garrard box. I’m not wearing a tiara tonight. The mission is supposedly to have fun. If I wear one, I’ll be stuffy.”
“Oh, I wasn’t going to say to wear the whole thing.
” She sat the box down on my bed and opened it.
“We can create a hair ornament if we break it down. This was one of your grandmother’s favorite tiaras, but she loved to break it into pieces.
And given that it was a gift from the Brits to your British grandmother, I think it would be fitting. ”
I hated to argue with her.
“Just… let’s try,” Aunt Kiersten said. “Oh, I think it could look so pretty. It’s going to be a nice night.”
“Full of symbolism.” Ingrid elbowed me.
“Well, I just want you to look beautiful because everyone is tuning in,” Aunt Kiersten said. “And… I know you don’t want to make a big deal out of it, but I am sure everyone will want to see you and Mary looking happy. It’s nice.”
Cici’s eyes met mine in the no-nonsense big sister way. I considered what I’d regret more. Would it be the press assuming undue influence or missing out on this night with the woman I loved—who wrote an album about me? I knew my answer.
“Fine,” I agreed. “Because I’ll want to walk with her tonight, yeah?”
“Yes.” My aunt grinned. “We will all be there. Why shouldn’t you walk with her?”
It was done. Not even a tiara threat prevented having a good time.