Post by tig on Aug 17, 2011 23:04:06 GMT -5
Generally speaking, Mackenzie Blare was a laid back girl. Flirtatious, merry, sweet, snuggly. She loved people, and while not the most patient of sorts, she was always kind about her impatience. This rule of thumb concerning young Kenny was thrown right the hell out the window, when it came down to her work. Fashion, as cliche as it sounded, was her passion.
And none of that: Ohemgee, she LOVES Cosmo and Project Runway. True, she did love those things, but it went far beyond that. She knew designers. And not only knew the style of cloths said designers designed; she knew where these designers roots began, what influenced them, and where their styles were most popular. She knew fashion trivia and history off the back of her hand like it was no ones business. How many sixteen year olds out there could tell you that french hoods, popular in the Tudor and Elizabethan age, came in six styles. Or that the reason why white is the popular choice for wedding dresses IS NOT that it symbolizes purity, but was the color of choice of Queen Victoria, when she was showing England that she too was making cut backs when the English economy was in the shits, by choosing un-dyed fabric in a time where pastel color gowns were of choice.
Not a whole lot.
So when her best friend, the ever adorable Benji Moore, suggested she make the costumes for a community production of Peter Pan, she about flipped a lid. It was not only her passion, but it was one of the few things Mackenzie thought she did well. If the show was a success, people would become curious as to who made the outfits, and her name would get thrown out there. And if it wasn't, well, the actors would look fabulous nonetheless.
Zee stood in the ostentatious lobby of the Ice Palace, bouncing on her heels for the people to arrive for the fitting. While her cloths weren't her usual dramatic style, Zee still looked very Zee like when it was looked at closely. She wore sneakers, instead of her usual heels, because this way she could flit around easily between people. Her orange socks peeked out from under the hem of her simple, black, denim, skinny jeans. They were held up by a pair of orange suspenders and belt. This was to prevent her needing to pull her pants up every twenty seconds, and a row of safety pins could be seen going down the suspenders for easy access. The shirt she wore, bore her motto when in work mode: SLEEP WHEN YOU'RE DEAD. Her black hair was kept in a messy bun at the nap of her neck, which was already starting to unravel. Her bangs were kept from her face with a stripped hat, and her make up was simple but flawless.
She waited for the troupe to arrive, not because she thought they would miss the ILLUSTRIOUS (insert epic sarcasm) Ice Palace. Honestly, the glare off the shiny monstrosity could be seen from space. No, she waited, because she knew that the snooty dip wad door man would send anyone away, if he disapproved, unless she was down here. So, she waited, her large blue eyes resting on the door, as she nibbled her lip impatiently.
Zee really wished they would get here! She was pumped! She was ready!
OOC:Look what that lovely little British dolly named Molly made me. Be jelly.
And none of that: Ohemgee, she LOVES Cosmo and Project Runway. True, she did love those things, but it went far beyond that. She knew designers. And not only knew the style of cloths said designers designed; she knew where these designers roots began, what influenced them, and where their styles were most popular. She knew fashion trivia and history off the back of her hand like it was no ones business. How many sixteen year olds out there could tell you that french hoods, popular in the Tudor and Elizabethan age, came in six styles. Or that the reason why white is the popular choice for wedding dresses IS NOT that it symbolizes purity, but was the color of choice of Queen Victoria, when she was showing England that she too was making cut backs when the English economy was in the shits, by choosing un-dyed fabric in a time where pastel color gowns were of choice.
Not a whole lot.
So when her best friend, the ever adorable Benji Moore, suggested she make the costumes for a community production of Peter Pan, she about flipped a lid. It was not only her passion, but it was one of the few things Mackenzie thought she did well. If the show was a success, people would become curious as to who made the outfits, and her name would get thrown out there. And if it wasn't, well, the actors would look fabulous nonetheless.
Zee stood in the ostentatious lobby of the Ice Palace, bouncing on her heels for the people to arrive for the fitting. While her cloths weren't her usual dramatic style, Zee still looked very Zee like when it was looked at closely. She wore sneakers, instead of her usual heels, because this way she could flit around easily between people. Her orange socks peeked out from under the hem of her simple, black, denim, skinny jeans. They were held up by a pair of orange suspenders and belt. This was to prevent her needing to pull her pants up every twenty seconds, and a row of safety pins could be seen going down the suspenders for easy access. The shirt she wore, bore her motto when in work mode: SLEEP WHEN YOU'RE DEAD. Her black hair was kept in a messy bun at the nap of her neck, which was already starting to unravel. Her bangs were kept from her face with a stripped hat, and her make up was simple but flawless.
She waited for the troupe to arrive, not because she thought they would miss the ILLUSTRIOUS (insert epic sarcasm) Ice Palace. Honestly, the glare off the shiny monstrosity could be seen from space. No, she waited, because she knew that the snooty dip wad door man would send anyone away, if he disapproved, unless she was down here. So, she waited, her large blue eyes resting on the door, as she nibbled her lip impatiently.
Zee really wished they would get here! She was pumped! She was ready!
OOC:Look what that lovely little British dolly named Molly made me. Be jelly.
