Content warnings for this story (click here for guide):
Karly took a deep breath and walked into the office. The pink-and-white flower-girl dress was adorably ruffled and the waist sat so high the tiers of frothy skirts masked any semblance of hips. On her feet she wore white plastic mary-jane shoes. Her power bear and rabbit peeped out of her handbag.
Eyes widened as her employees took in her new look.
“Courage is power, courage is power,” she thought to herself, sipping her Gaia-juice smoothie.
Fran called “Good morning!” as Karly slipped into her pink office.
A bundle of files sat on her desk, ready for signing. The sparkly mobile swayed in the air con.
Karly switched on her computer and frowned.
It was so hard to tell if all this was working. I mean, she was definitely getting attention, but this…outfit change…it was radical. It certainly was aggressively feminine like Mahri had said. She just couldn’t quite shake the feeling it looked a little…childish.
“Come on,” she said to herself, entering her password. “Every innovator has to stand out at first. Changing the world of business is hardly going to look basic, is it?”
She slurped some more of her smoothie and her stomach grumbled. Since starting the pack a week ago, she had definitely noticed the effect her mentor had described. She’d been needing to go to the bathroom a lot. Karly supposed this was the full cleanse Mahri had meant, but it had left her a little gassy and meant she’d had to grab her power animals and dash out of meetings more than once.
Anyway, she guessed she’d better do some work. Well, maybe after booking lunch with Celeste. Maybe she should change first.
“What’re ya dooooing?” sang Fran as she approached Pete’s desk. He jumped in surprise and covered his work with a file.
“Don’t DO that!”
“Sorry,” said Fran, smiling. “It looked interesting but dodgy, which is always a winning combination.”
Pete grinned, and nodded toward the server room for a secret meeting.
“What do you think?” he said, revealing a copy of Vogue Italia.
The front cover showed supermodel Nina Rush wearing an oversized pink hair bow and a dress fit for a toddler. It was a mass of sissy ruffles with building blocks printed at the hem. The caption read: “A Little Respect: Nina’s babydoll couture sends us ga-ga.”
“Is this real?” asked Fran, aghast.
“Nope!” grinned Pete. “But I like to think it’s pretty convincing.”
Fran flicked through to the Rush interview and began reading.
“You WROTE this?”
Pete shrugged. “Maybe.”
Fran read aloud: “Since I embraced my child side, I’ve felt unstoppable. I’m free to conquer the world. All women need to do it. If I demand my rights as a woman, they call me a bitch. But if I’m in Little Nina mode, I get my way. All of these men, if they want to tell me what to do, they’ve got to run around after me. I’d rather be a brat than a doormat.”
Fran stifled a giggle and continued.
“I’m planning so many collections around this theme. We’re sketching out everything from bonnets to rompers. It’s just so hot right now.”
Fran tipped an imaginary hat. “This is outstanding work, Pedro. Your design is flawless.”
“Check out some of the tactically-placed ads,” said Pete, taking the magazine from her. He flicked through until he found one for a pastel Gucci swimsuit with ruffled sleeves and rows of frills over the bottom. The photograph showed an older woman slipping armbands onto the pouting model. A few pages on, a Chanel ad showed four models in little-girl balletwear, awkwardly posing, with one falling over. A third showed a Swarovski-encrusted dummy and the words “Please, Daddy.”
Fran shook her head, incredulous.
“And the final touch,” said Pete. “Is to intercept her usual copy and substitute this version, shrink-wrapped and addressed with the very font she’d normally expect. It’s a subscriber exclusive issue – very exclusive!”
They left the server room, trying not to crack up.
Karly came back from the bathroom for the third time that hour.
“Ready to go?” she said to Celeste, waggling her gold credit card. “It’s on me…”
Celeste shifted on her heels. “Uh, I think maybe I’m going to get lunch at my desk,” she said.
“But you were stoked about going to Arrabiata! It’s networking central at this time of day – loads of tech guys, cocktails…”
Celeste sighed.
“Um, not being funny here, babe, but…you’re dressing a bit…weird.”
Karly was winded. She blushed deeply and looked down at her frou-frou dress, feeling suddenly exposed.
“It’s just…” Celeste continued, flapping her hands. “Like, you do you and all that, but…it looks like something a little kid would wear. No offence.”
Suddenly it clicked for Karly. Once again, Celeste was trying to sow doubt. She was jealous. She wanted Karly to fade into the background so she could manoeuvre her way into the boss’s chair.
“Well, I wouldn’t expect you to understand couture,” Karly said, using her most superior voice. “Your style is much more…safe.”
Celeste blinked in disbelief.
“Did you just call me basic?”
“Not at all,” Karly blinked her long lashes in feigned surprise. “You know what works for you, and you stick to it…season after season…year after year…”
Celeste’s blood pressure began to rise. Karly picked up her rabbit and began to sort papers on her desk, ignoring her friend.
“Why don’t you go and have lunch, Celeste? Maybe a desk dinner is better for you today – I have a few reports I’ll need you to prepare for tomorrow’s presentation.”
Celeste stalked out of Karly’s office, still processing the slight. Karly never talked back to her. They were always carefully cordial at all times. How dare she treat her like some grunt? And how DARE she insult her fashion sense?
From Reception, Mimi observed Celeste’s exit, making a note to report back to Fran.
Back in her office, Karly’s head swam. Wow. She had often wanted to call out Celeste’s bitchy little asides, but never dared to. She hugged her power rabbit, intoxicated with her own daring.
She’d been a fool not to trust Mahri’s instincts. Doing a little twirl of excitement, she caused her frilly skirts to flare out around her. As she collapsed into her pink swivel chair, sleep washed over her.
The alarm on her phone sounded and Karly woke with a start. Ugh – she’d dribbled on her cheek. With a vicious little jab, her bladder demanded a toilet trip. Damnit, this detox plan really was making her wee more. Maybe it didn’t agree with her.
Or maybe that was the bad stuff leaving. She’d been wrong about the dress, after all…
Hmm. Curious, she spooned another serving of Gaia juice into her water bottle, filled it from the cooler and shook it up. If she went to the loo now and grabbed a yoghurt, she’d be back in time for her appointment.
“Karly, you look glorious!” sang Mahri. She was sat in a light-flooded room, and wore an embroidered pink kaftan. “I’m so proud of you for suiting up in your feminine armour!”
Karly beamed, proud of herself. On her lap, she had open the latest Vogue Italia, and had been gratified to see goddesses like Nina Rush enthusing about child-style couture. She was so far ahead of the curve – take that, Celeste!
“It took me a little while to be brave and show my strong self,” she piped, “but I did, and I can just tell it’s having an impact.”
“I imagine so,” smiled Mahri. “Well, you look formidable. How are the supplements going?”
Karly rolled her eyes. “They’re good – I can totally feel them charging me up, but they do – um, they make me…um, I need to go to the bathroom quite a lot.”
Mahri nodded and made some notes. “Yes, yes, that does happen initially. It’s a good sign, don’t worry. It does mean your body is evacuating the toxins. You know, the anxiety, the indecision…it will pass, but you do have to ride it out, unfortunately.”
Karly nodded, shifting in her seat.
“Can I take a week off them, maybe?”
“Certainly,” said Mahri, “You can stop them entirely if you like, but if you wish to begin the course again, you’ll be starting from scratch.”
Ugh. Karly didn’t fancy that. It was tempting to just ditch the drinks but Celeste and her ambitions remained in the back of her mind. She wasn’t going to let her get any advantage.
“If you find these issues become…inconvenient,” Mahri continued, “just while your body is adjusting, you could do what a number of my clients have done, and try the astronaut approach.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, how do I put this?” said Mahri. “A space shuttle is not built with a toilet on board. Plus, astronauts often walk miles from their ship on planetary surfaces. And you can’t exactly open your space-suit on the moon…so they wear a little protection…”
Realising what her mentor meant, Karly shook her head. “No…no, that’s not…that’s not me…”
Mahri smiled warmly. “It’s not for everybody, it’s true. But my clients have said it saves a lot of time and a lot of awkward questions when leaving meetings repeatedly. Anyway, it probably won’t come to that anyway, but it is an option. You are, after all, an explorer in a new land. I want you to think of yourself that way. A pioneer.”
Karly felt herself blush at the prospect of wearing something like that. No way. That was a bridge too far.
Mahri made another note on her pad. “OK, great progress this session. I’m going to send you a secondary supplement which may take the edge off things. It ramps up the cleansing process, so it may speed you through this awkward phase. And I have a voucher for further clothing, so we can really start building that wardrobe. I want you to choose three items and wear them at some point before our next meeting.”
“Ba Ba Ba Da Da Da Ga Ga Ga…” they chanted, before signing off.
Jenna exhaled loudly, took off her headphones, her clunky gold Mahri Powers earrings and her huge kaftan and sat back in her jeans and jumper. This was a demanding gig.
Fran was a dear friend and this brat was truly deserving, but neither or the conspirators could have anticipated the negotiations involved. It was a bit like that role-play workshop she’d run with hostage teams.
Later that day, she placed an order with a niche site called Frills & Spills, to be sent to her for repackaging. Then she mocked up a voucher for Rejuvais Businesswear, a domain Fran had registered last time they spoke.
Finally, she emailed Fran.
“No idea how this is going to go,” she wrote. “Fair bit of resistance, but honestly I half-expected that. Keep me posted on how things go in the office.”
Astronauts, she chuckled to herself. How the hell do I come up with this stuff?