Halloween
Reasonable costumes could be worn to class; it had to be that way, because how are hundreds of kids going to change for the after-school dance? And this year it had to be after school because Halloween fell on a Wednesday. The limitations were that the costumes had to be clothes that were reasonable to move in and didn't violate the dress code for school dances; makeup could be worn to class but not masks unless they were little dominos. If you didn't wear a costume, you had to wear the uniform, which meant effectively that everybody would be dressed as something just as an escape. The next morning I got up early; it had struck me that I wasn't quite ready. For one thing, all I had were flats and one pair of low black pumps that just weren't right. And it was the end of October; a thin, sleeveless dress was probably going to freeze me. Back to the attic. I found a pair of rather worn t-strap pumps with a sparkly buckle that were only a little too big and a rose-red kimono-style evening coat that really brightened my complexion. In a bureau drawer were sheer old-fashioned silk stockings. I chose a pair in light beige. That would do. I scuttled back downstairs to do my hair and makeup. There was no way I was going to bob my hair just for Halloween (and my ballet teachers would kill me) so an image search had turned up 20's vamp Theda Bara. A few pictures showed her with long curly hair, so I made big ringlets, fluffed everything out, and put the bandeau on. I didn't really like it, but it was part of the costume. I sprayed max hold hairspray carefully and turned my attention to both the tutorial I'd found for 20's makeup and my face. I was pretty good with makeup thanks to ballet, and I quickly powdered my face, used red rouge on the apples of my cheeks, and... I double-checked the instructions. My ears, too, apparently. And my knees. Huh. Weird. I emphasized my lips with an exaggerated cupid's bow, bee-stung look, in a dark pink matte lipstick. I had red for the dance. My eyebrows naturally arched, so I brushed them a little to emphasize the arch and darkened them a bit. Eyeliner went on top only, smudged into the lash line, and plum eyeshadow on the lower part of the upper lid. Mascara. I compared my reflection to the picture and nodded. Then dressing. Undies, the stockings, which were rolled and held up with ribbon garters, the shoes, the dress, and the coat. Not bad, I thought, looking into the mirror. The dress and coat were fun and different. I looked like someone else. I'd have worn appropriate chandelier earrings, but Mom didn't believe girls should have a lot of jewelry, so I put in the small garnet studs that I did have. They sparkled a little, at least, and the color was fine. I put the cosmetics in a makeup bag in my backpack (ugh) before going downstairs.
"No," Mom said sternly as I went into the kitchen to whip up my morning smoothie. Alan does early mornings with his family, and it was nice to make my own breakfast. I looked at her, confused. "You are wearing too much makeup, Lysippe. You are only fifteen. And you may not wear those stockings. If you want to cover your legs, put on some panty hose. You are too young to be looking like that. And where did you get the coat?"
"Attic," I said, glowering. "School is going to be cold, I can't wear a short, sleeveless dress. It's supposed to snow tonight. And you might recall that I didn't want to wear this dress to begin with." I turned to go remove the makeup.
"That dress is one-of-a-kind, a masterpiece," Mom said in That Tone. The Tone that said 'I'm an Amazon princess who has no idea what American girls are like and why can't you be grateful for all your advantages?' "It is not to be worn to high school all day."
"Whatever," I said.
And as a punishment for mouthing off, I had to go change into my uniform.
Because I knew Alan would report it to Mom if I just tossed the dress on my bed, I took the extra time to hang it up again, put the bandeau in its bag, and I had to hustle to get into my uniform with the makeup washed off. I didn't have time to put on my regular makeup so I'd have to reapply at school. I raced downstairs (at least I could wear the backpack rather than carrying it) and into the kitchen to finish my smoothie. But Mom had blended it and poured it into a cup and I thanked her automatically. There was no conversation in the car on the way into the city. Deri was texting her friends in the medieval dress she'd chosen. I texted mine too, telling them what had happened, that I had no costume, and to think about what I could do with makeup, because I was drawing a blank.
"Your hair is so pretty like that," Jane said admiringly as we convened in the second floor girls bathroom, south wing. Eleanor nodded, rooting through her backpack.
"This is all I could think of," she said, holding out a pair of vampire teeth in their packaging. She looked cute as a scientist; it was funny because she hates science.
Hope, dressed as Catwoman in a tight black tshirt and yoga pants, high heels, black domino mask, and her dark hair drawn back sleekly, held out a blue t-shirt to me. She looked quite a bit like Grandma Selena, actually. I shook out the shirt and saw that it had Superman's "S" sigil on it. "You could be Supergirl, put it on under your uniform shirt like you're ready to burst into action."
I'd met both Supergirl and Superman once when they were at the batcave. They were nice, but I didn't want anything I associated with my family right now. "Thanks, Hope, but I think I'll do the vampire thing. It'd be just my luck if some teacher made me take off the shirt. There goes two costumes." She nodded and tucked it back into her backpack.
Molly came in just then, having used a temporary dye on her honey-blonde hair to turn it black. She was in a tight black dress that showed off her considerable assets and a little black evening cape that looked retro. She too had a deep attic to plunder. The difference was that she was allowed to play with the things she found. She smiled, showing her fangs. Great. We'd be a vampire and her kid sister. I regretted turning down Hope's t-shirt but didn't want Molly to feel bad, so I adhered the long canine pieces over my normal ones and borrowed Molly's white face powder, using my own cosmetics to do a goth thing around my eyes and borrowed dark red lip stain, since the fake blood that Molly had spilling off her lips stained the skin and I didn't want to get grief from my mom for my costume choice, such as it was. She's very against impersonating evil. God. Whatever. It's just Halloween.
"Your mom is really strict," Eleanor observed as we talked about my crisis.
"But would you really have worn a Victorian dress?" Hope wanted to know.
"No, actually. I can't believe anybody ever did. There is so much fabric and construction in the skirt that it's really, really heavy. I'd be exhausted by the time of the dance. But we've never been really allowed to play around in the attic and it was the first time I'd had one of those dresses on. It was just so beautiful. The fabric is divine, so soft and luxurious, and the design perfect. I liked the fantasy," I sighed. "It was fun to pretend that I had a closet full of beautiful things." My mother had always very carefully supervised us up there and the way she winced whenever we handled the old dresses was enough to quash any fun. We're not not allowed up there, but it's kind of off-limits, every time I go up there I feel like I'm trespassing.
"Your mom is nice and all, but I don't get why she doesn't let you have nicer clothes," Hope said, puzzled. "You guys are the richest family in town, one of the richest in the world, and when your parents show up in the media she's always gorgeous."
"I'm still young, she thinks I might still have a little growing to do, and she was brought up in a less consumer-driven society," I said, thinking of Themyscira. There is no consumerism there. She might have left the islands for the most part during WWI, but she'd always visited every year or two and had gone back to live a few times for a few decades from time to time.
"It's not like Greece is isolated," Molly said, fluffing my hair. "It's really a shame, though. Most kids think that the Waynes are putting up a front and that the business has gone south. You're stuck out in the middle of nowhere in that mansion, not even in the city." I frowned. Everybody hated trying to get a ride out to the mansion, so my friends rarely visited.
"You're going to be 16 in April," Jane said, checking her reflection. She'd dressed up as Marilyn Monroe in the famous white halter dress. "What's she waiting for?" All I could do is shrug. "But wait," she said, digging in her backpack. She beamed, handed envelopes around. "Invites to my Sweet Sixteen party." I opened mine with anticipation. It would be the first of these parties I'd been invited to this year. It was to be held at the Gotham Metropolitan, the city's newest luxury hotel, in early December. Wow. I'd have to get her an especially great present. "My mom is taking me to get a dress at one of the ateliers this weekend. She won't tell me which designer, it's a surprise." We talked about her good fortune until the warning bell rang and we scattered for class.
Classes went fine and soon it was time for the dance. Most kids had full-on costumes, but there were more than a few like me, who had done the minimum, and a few who hadn't bothered. Not everybody came to the dance, but a lot did, and it was fun. We had dances like this in the theater because there was a big stage, and backstage, and you could sit in the seats and socialize or mingle in the aisles. I made sure to wash my face before leaving the school. Alan was there to pick me up, and there wasn't much conversation; I poked around my communicator so that I wouldn't have to talk. At home, I changed and went to the closet to get the flapper dress to return it to the attic, but of course Alan had done it. My closet was also straightened, each hanger a specific distance from its neighbors. It was an odd distance, not quite two inches; I suspected that Alan used his finger as a quick guide. I shut the closet door more firmly than usual and went down to dinner. Dad was back and listened benevolently to Deri's chatter before asking me how the dance had been.
"Fine," I said briefly, adding a little more salad dressing. Alan's awfully sparing with the good stuff. Dad frowned.
"Did something happen?"
"She's still angry with me," Mom said tranquilly, and explained the whole costume fiasco. He looked flummoxed.
"I got the invitation to Jane's Sweet Sixteen party today," I said after swallowing. "Can I get a new dress? Her parents are having it in the Metropolitan's ballroom."
"That is extravagant." Mom's voice had a hint of censure.
"It's a big deal, especially since there aren't debutantes anymore," I said.
"Hmm," Mom said. "I think it's possible that you'll still grow some. Is it necessary?"
I looked at her, trying not to have too much attitude. I wanted her to listen, not dismiss me because I was irritated. "Well, the kids at school figure that Wayne is tanking and we don't have the money to spend on the kids." I frowned. Maybe they knew something I didn't. "I do have a college fund, right?"
Dad let out an exasperated sigh. "Of course. But the company is doing better than ever. We just want you to understand that you don't have to be a conspicuous consumer." I looked at him in disbelief.
"You wear handmade suits and shoes. We live in an ancient family mansion with a butler. Mom wears designer clothes and accessories. You're always saying that we need to blend in with our peers, but I don't have a lot of tools to do that. I'm not smart enough to stand out, Mom won't consider letting me have cosmetic surgery so that I can have any kind of bustline, and people wonder what's wrong with Mom that she doesn't let me have nicer things."
"There is nothing wrong with the way you look." Mom's tone was mortally offended. "It is an affront to the gods to amend your appearance artificially."
"I'm the plainest of the cousins," I said. "Every damn thing that makes somebody stand out in this family has skipped me by. The least I could have are nice clothes from nice-feeling fabrics."
"Language, Lys," Dad said sternly. Deri munched, listening wide-eyed. And the conversation dropped, Mom and Dad talking about what was new.
"Daniel, Alan pointed out while Lys was in the attic that many of the garments are fragile and in need of special treatment. I thought we could donate them to the Costume Institute, so that they could be properly cared for and that others could study and see them. It is a shame that they are put away in a private collection," Mom said. My jaw dropped.
"That's a good idea, Diana," Dad said, nodding. "Free some space up there, too."
"Do we really need another flashy donation with the family name on it?" I asked. "Why do we have to give away everything that's nice?"
"Lysippe, the garments are in danger of falling apart," Mom said sternly.
"The original couturiers are working, it's not like the supply of their designs has dried up," I argued.
"That's enough, Lys." Dad's voice was stern. "Don't speak to your mother like that."
"May I be excused?" I asked, already pushing back from the table. Mom hesitated a moment. "I'm not allowed out for any Halloween parties with my friends because of my grades, so I might as well get back to work," I said, my tone biting.
"I don't like your tone, Lysippe," Dad said warningly. I just looked at him, trying not to frown. "All right, go on." I got up and headed upstairs.
I was hitting the algebra, my tutor had suggested a strategy that seemed to be helping and I was cautiously optimistic, when there was a tap at the door and Deri came in. I looked at the clock; it was later than I realized. I stretched. "How was the party?"
"So fun," she said briskly. "Want some candy?" I rooted around in her basket; apparently they'd gone trick-or-treating. I found a Tootsie Roll mini and unwrapped it. "You can have more," she said. I smiled at her and took an orange Tootsie Pop.
"No more, Jake will give me hell if I put on any weight. He says it's like trying to lift a buffalo anyway."
"Jake's an ass," she said, and I nodded agreement. "So what's the deal with the clothes upstairs, anyway? They're all wildly outdated. It's like you've turned into a typical teenager overnight."
"It's not so much that I can see working them into my wardrobe," I said slowly. "It's just that they're unique and beautiful, made with care, specifically for someone to look her best in, from quality fabrics that feel so good. Somebody who was related to me. I don't have any of that. The closest I get is the ballet costumes for our recitals." She considered that as she nibbled a Snickers mini.
"It's true that when Mom takes us shopping, she gets what's practical, and then we have our school uniforms. We look fine, though." We sighed in unison. "For somebody who's lived in New York as long as she has, she really has no grasp of teenage girls. It's one thing for her to look for the best in people and judge their character, rather than their possessions, but she doesn't seem to get that kids don't do that." Then she grinned and poked me where I'm ticklish. I swatted at her. "You're such a typical Taurus, though, always feeling things, you and your fabrics."
"We've been brought up to appreciate quality. I just want some of my own. It makes me happy. It's not like I'm careless."
"So Jane's party is really at the Metropolitan?" she asked, and I nodded. "It looks so glamorous," she said enviously.
"Doesn't it? I can't wait, her mom is really creative. It should be an amazing party. They're going to a designer to get her a custom made dress."
"Wow." There was a pause. "You know Mom's not going to do that for you, right, get some gorgeous dress?" My lips twisted. Mom keeps saying that we shouldn't rush to be adults, that we should enjoy being girls. Nice sentiment, but in three years I'll be going to college. There isn't a lot of girlhood left, and high school is not what she apparently thinks it is. She nodded, then took herself off to her room.