Chapter 4
LA FA?ON, MANHATTAN, NEW YORK
Luca closed his eyes as he entered the room and let the scent do its work.
There were new garments and fabric here in the gigantic walk-in closet of the house of fashion he worked out of, new things since yesterday that were calling to him with their fragrance.
Fine thread had a scent, just like cheap thread had a scent.
Quality lace smelt fresh and natural. Inferior or mixed material held traces of formaldehyde.
A pungency you didn’t easily forget. Leather.
There was definitely new leather in here.
‘Hands off the feathers, Mr Manning. Those are mine.’
Luca opened his eyes and turned around at the sound of his boss’s voice.
Sybille Legrand was the owner of La Facon, and she was a seventy-something icon of the New York fashion scene and fully established on the world’s stage.
He had long-admired her unabashed approach to styling – bucking current trends, creating her own – and the longevity and relevance of her career.
So much so, Luca had heavily researched her, borderline stalked her and arrived at the interview for this position only three years ago, carrying her favourite coffee and a lemon basil tart no one was supposed to know she adored.
He had wanted this job. He had needed this job to prove to himself that he wasn’t just the son of his father.
‘Is your client Taylor Swift?’ Luca asked her as she came closer to him, fingers reaching for the part of the hanging rack he had paused by.
‘I think we would need more sequins for her,’ Sybille stated. ‘But, look at the feathers here.’ She pulled out a peach-coloured structured box jacket in corduroy material, large ostrich feathers covering the shoulders and draping down the arms. ‘What would you put together with this?’
Luca took in everything about the garment. The harsh, solid, straight lines of the jacket’s make-up, in complete contrast to the light, delicate flow of the large feathers covering the arm sections. He mused for a few moments and then gave his answer.
‘Jimmy Choo, Stevie 100 silkie blush satin crystal pumps.’
There was silence until finally Sybille said something. ‘And what else? You have only given me a shoe.’
Luca nodded and smiled. ‘Sybille, are you becoming conservative? Look at the jacket. It is the show stealer. You know this. You cannot put anything else with it but an amazing shoe.’
He watched his mentor hold the jacket at arm’s length and really take it in anew.
Maybe he shouldn’t have reacted with his gut.
The last thing he ever wanted to do was disappoint the person who had given him so much.
And she was the one with all the fashion accolades. He was still slowly finding his way…
Sybille sighed with exactly the kind of disappointment he had not wanted to hear. Should he backtrack? He went to speak, but she got there first.
‘Why are you always right? I hate that about you as much as I love it.’ She pressed the jacket to his chest so forcefully Luca had to stop it falling to the ground, and then she moved away into the rest of the space.
It was a grand hall, a former ballet studio with large arched windows overlooking the buildings opposite and the street below.
‘Did you have someone in mind?’ Luca asked, hanging the jacket back up then following her.
‘What?’
‘For the feathered jacket?’
‘Myself. Until you so rightly told me it should be worn without compromise. Sadly, my legs are not what they once were.’
‘That’s not true,’ Luca stated. ‘It would look great on you.’
His boss had a figure envied by many of the clients they styled. Lithe, nimble, beautiful long hair a vibrant platinum that she twirled into various shapes at the back of her head.
‘Be honest, Mr Manning. It would look far better on Taylor Swift.’
He smiled. ‘It would be a unique take, whichever one of you wore it.’
‘Nicely said,’ Sybille answered. ‘And I am glad you’re feeling affable today because… Mr Torres has asked that I style him on Friday.’
Luca’s heart sank. Benoit Torres was the actor of the moment and Sybille had given the job to Luca. He had already sourced a choice of outfits for the man’s red carpet appearance in the city and he thought he had really captured the essence of the actor’s image.
Sybille put a hand on Luca’s shoulder. ‘You know it’s not personal.’
‘Sybille, it is completely personal. He wants you not me.’
‘Because his people know me. They are familiar with me. They don’t know you, yet. I tried to convince them of all your merits, but, equally, when it comes down to what the client wants, I didn’t want them to use another studio.’
Luca sighed, deflating externally as well as internally. ‘I thought I was really getting somewhere you know, after the Foreshadowing premiere.’
‘Luca, you are getting somewhere,’ Sybille insisted. ‘And you are going to get everywhere. Trust me. Plus, do you think I am going to take credit for this? I know you have looks planned for him. You hid them so Cherise could not take them.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Luca said, shrugging. ‘He’ll probably bring his own stuff anyway. What do we know, huh?’
‘Stop. Enough of this attitude. You know what I think. It is not practice that makes perfect, it is patience. And, when Benoit Torres is wearing one of the looks you have created for him, I will be making sure you get the mention for it.’
‘You don’t have to do that, Sybille.’
‘I know,’ she answered, patting his shoulder. ‘But, in better news, I have another job for you. An author is coming from England.’
‘J K Rowling?’
‘Would be against my morals.’
He didn’t want to sound ungrateful, but an author wasn’t exactly Hollywood star, Torres.
‘Her name is Gabriella Felix,’ Sybille continued. ‘And she has never been styled the way we style people.’
Now Luca’s curiosity was piqued. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Mr Manning, you did your own research on Mr Torres, did you not?’ Sybille smiled. ‘She is arriving in a few days. She is here for a few weeks. Her first event is Friday evening.’
Friday evening again. Losing Torres had freed up Friday night so he could honour his commitment to his sister but now he had a clash issue again. And with Torres he had known that once the guy was at the premiere his work was done. This was an unknown entity.
‘You know, Luca, this could be the start of something for you. Dressing someone who does not have any preconceived notions about what is en vogue this side of the Atlantic? Not many authors become fashion icons.’
‘Is that what you want me to do? Make this author a fashion icon?’ Luca asked.
Sybille made a non-committal noise. ‘Everyone who employs us wants to make a statement, no? Trust your instincts with it, Mr Manning. Like with the feathers.’ She smiled.
‘I know you will do excellent work.’ She looked at her watch.
‘Ah, is that the time? I need to have more coffee.’ She held his shoulder again.
‘Make this job your own. Sometimes it’s the people you don’t expect that create the magic moments. ’
He nodded at his boss. ‘Thanks, Sybille.’
‘Je t’en prie. And I am left with Mr Torres and his preferences for animal print. Help me, HaShem.’
Luca smiled as she left the room and then his eyes went back to the rails of clothes. Before he had another look at what was there, he ought to google Gabriella Felix…