Angela, Nakia, Angela (the other one) and Jules stepped out of their limo. The two Angelas tottered on their heels, cajoled into taller than usual platforms by their designers and now gamely trying to make the best of it. Nakia, at over six feet tall and with the broad shoulders of a WNBA power forward, wore sandals with hardly any heel and Jules, counter culture as always, wore sneakers. At only five feet tall, her height was perfect for Nakia to drape a casual, friendly arm around her shoulders, which she did.
Each young woman was wrapped in a shiny lame', not noteworthy in itself, not daringly cut or extravagantly accessorized. But the four women together presented a striking group, and they stayed together to make the most of it.
On the red carpet, flashes popped in staccato lightning as the women's massed style garnered more attention, and of course the cable entertainment channel reporters started asking the perennial question: "Who are you wearing?"
The women tried to slip the question, but one game presenter crowded in, practically holding the microphone at Nakia's breast and shouted the question over the clatter and roar of the onlookers. "Who is that, Nakia? I don't recognize them at all!"
What followed was bizarre. The strap over the tall woman's shoulder slipped off even though there was no breeze and...changed.
"We're discovered! Thompson, you said we would be safe!"
Nakia hissed at the strap, "Be cool! You'll be fine!" She tugged the strap back over her shoulder but it leapt back off.
"They are asking who we are! We are discovered! We must flee!" The strap continued to wrestle against her grip.
Jules' entire outfit parted right down the middle and immediately flapped straight up into the sky. The crowd cheered at the sudden, striking display of skin. This was what they were here for, a little live theater and some straight up attention-hungry exhibitionism. Jules' petite, muscular cheerleader body was now clad only in a modest pair of black panties. For her part, Jules looked more annoyed than embarrassed.
The Angelas were struggling with their clothes, and arguing with them too. "Calm down, you'll be fine! You're making a scene!" But each of them soon lost their battles and, like Jules, found themselves abruptly disrobed as their dresses fled straight up into the sky. Unlike Jules though, they were completely naked and again, the crowd cheered. Angela tried to hide - not easy on the red carpet where being seen is the whole idea - but Angela (the other one) put her hands on her hips and glowered. Despite being on the Hollywood scene for only a couple of years, self-confidence clothed her like armor.
Nakia's beautiful gold lame' outfit, which had draped over her like a lover's embrace mere minutes ago, shot away with the others. Now she stood on the red carpet in her sandals and a coral teddy, a striking coffee-colored athlete who appeared to have misplaced her volleyball - and her beach.
Jules stepped forward and indicated a young man on the other side of the velvet rope. "You. Give me your shirt." He didn't argue, just peeled it off and handed it over. Jules tugged it on efficiently. Nakia approached two more along the line.
"Gentlemen, please help my friends, here."
One of them leered, even as the other was quickly unbuttoning. "No way! This is the best show I've seen in a month."
Nakia smiled gently, a sadness in her eyes. But Jules stepped up, "Do you want to be kicked in the balls on national TV?"
"Never mind him." The buttoned-up guy had already gotten his shirt off, and also handed over a windbreaker he had tugged out of his backpack. "He's an ass. Here," he said. He even ducked under the velvet rope to bring the garments over to the Angelas. "I, uh, even have a pair of warmups in here, Miss." He was even taller than Nakia, and his T-shirt hung all the way down to Angela's (the other one's) knees. Meanwhile, Angela stepped into the warmup pants behind the massed front of her companions, her back turned and face blazing...but when she pulled the windbreaker on, she only zipped it halfway.
Jules held the reporter's mic hand. "We're wearing..." and she looked over to the people who had offered clothes to herself and her friends. They named themselves for the cameras, to general cheers from the onlookers. She smiled her best medals-podium smile. "We're wearing these guys."
The reporter was still gaping skyward, in the direction the women's clothes had gone. "But what..."
Jules followed her gaze. "Fast fashion, what can I say."
The reporter clearly wanted to follow up with more questions, but Jules, Nakia, and the two Angelas made their way into the venue and out of sight.
No comments:
Post a Comment