Baby Needs a New Pair of Shoes by Lauren Baratz-Logsted Page B

where Conchita and Rivera regularly got their hair done. Hillary had suggested The Queen’s Coif, where she got her own hair done, but had been outvoted. Still, she paid.
    â€œChristmas present,” she said, surrendering her Amex card again.
    â€œChristmas isn’t for another four months,” I pointed out.
    â€œSo?” she said. “Don’t expect anything on December 25.”
    â€œShe looks sooo… not like her,” Stella said when the hairdresser was done and we were all admiring the new me in the mirror.
    It was weird because my hair didn’t look radically different than it usually did. It was the same short, dark hair, kind of spiky. But whatever magic the stylist had performed on it, using paste artfully as well as a razor to create tiny little jagged wisps all around my face, well, it made me look like I was styling.
    â€œYou’ll need to get your makeup done, too, of course,” Stella said. “You can’t have hair like that with no makeup.” Sighing, she extracted her own Amex gold card from her purse.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” I asked.
    â€œIt’s your early Halloween bonus,” she muttered. “You can get it done here. They do makeup, too.”
    â€œBoss has got a he-art! Boss has got a he-art!” Conchita and Rivera singsonged.
    â€œOhh…shut up,” Stella said.

    â€œShe still needs the right clothes,” Rivera said.
    â€œWe still need to get a car big enough,” Conchita said.
    â€œI’ll get the clothes,” Rivera said.
    â€œI’ll get the car,” Conchita said.

    The clothes turned out to be items from Rivera’s own closet.
    â€œI wore these black slacks the night Flavia fell in love with me,” she said, holding up a pair of black capris.
    â€œFlavia?” I asked.
    â€œLong gone.” She shrugged. “And don’t worry about the length. I’ve got Hollywood tape in my bag, works like a charm.”
    She pulled a silver lamé tank top out of her bag.
    â€œAnd I wore this,” she said, “the night Emmanuella fell in love with me.”
    â€œEmmanuella?” I asked.
    She shrugged again. “I think she’s with Flavia now. We can use the Hollywood tape to tuck up the hem of the tank, too.”
    As I put on the clothes, I tried not to think about the fact that I was being clothed wholly in garments that had loved and lost a lot of girl-on-girl love.
    In the beginning I’d felt resistant to their efforts. Why, I felt, bother trying to turn a sow’s ear into a silk purse? But, and here was the strange thing, as the day wore on, a feeling welled in me, the same Cinderella feeling I’d had when I’d slipped the Ghosts on at Jimmy Choo’s in New York. Here were all these women—Hillary, Stella, Conchita, Rivera—doing everything in their power to help me achieve my moment. I was like the real Cinderella, with the Fairy Godmother and all the creatures in the house helping her get ready for the ball. I felt magical. There was still one thing missing, though…
    â€œWho would have guessed you could look so good?” Rivera admired her own handiwork when I was done dressing, when she was done taping me. “But shoes—” she put her finger to her lips “—that’s the big problem.”
    â€œThat’s how this all started,” I pointed out. “Remember? Once I get those Jimmy Choos, I’ll have great shoes.”
    â€œRight,” she said, all business, “but you don’t have them now.” She looked in my closet. “All you’ve got right now are a pair of flip-flops, some winter boots and those stupid Nikes you’re always wearing.”
    â€œStupid—?”
    â€œI know,” she said, cocking an ear. Yup, the shower was still running. “While your roommate’s in the shower, we’ll raid her closet.”
    â€œOh, no,” I said. “No, no, no, no,