Juliet Marie Winters (winters_heat) wrote in city_limits, @ 2009-04-12 13:12:00 |
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Entry tags: | erica sheehan, juliet winters |
Shopping for stuff
It had been a slow day, but that was okay. Erica didn't feel much like playing the part of a dutiful shopkeeper; she'd wondered more than once that day just how Emmy had managed to keep it up so long without cracking. But, then, her old friend with the bookstore in the desert had always had a number of friendly faces on hand to pick up the slack. Erica herself was usually alone in the little resale shop, unless one of her flaky friends stopped by to pick over the new consignment lots for whatever they might want to snag.
That day a new shipment had arrived but it hadn't been quite what Erica had been expecting. That's what she got for picking up box lots sight unseen from a Florida resale shop that was closing down: piles of old swimwear. They would have been entirely useless if the artistic flair in the young store owner hadn't spotted a use for them; by the time late afternoon rolled by, Erica was dancing around the store, blasting a radio and singing loudly to hear herself over the buzz of the sewing machine.
Two weeks before, she'd gotten a load of hand-me-down costumes from a jazz and tap dance school that was clearing out their storage. The array of sequins and spangles, when combined with the swimwear and a good deal of fishnet and tulle, turned into some custom costumery that would easily make a more reserved person blush.
Juliet had been meaning to drop by the new shop she'd noticed, always on the lookout for second hand shops to browse in. She found the large stores and even the major boutiques would carry their own fashion buyers' tastes, and what they thought was fashionable, and more often than not Juliet was bored by the sameness of it all. She'd discovered that op shops were wonderful because they had everything, from all eras, jumbled in together, so something that looked boring when surrounded by the sameness of everything else, colour and style-wise, would suddenly appear completely different when out in the reality of a mix of everything.
She found it again, taking another few minutes to find somewhere to park, and then head back to the store. She pushed the door open and came to a stop. A young woman was bouncing around with an item that could only be described as 'glittery' in her hands, music blaring out of a small radio. Slowly she let the door go, waiting for a moment, a grin on her face, before taking a step into the organised chaos.
The song was old, but it had a decent beat. Erica had been so over Madonna, ever since the pop star had started collecting orphans like they were accessories, but she had to admit she liked the song. Probably because of the guest vocals. But, it was keeping her moving. The measuring tape slung around her neck shook and twirled as she danced about, singing bits of the lyrics that she could remember as she went; measuring the piece seemed almost a moot point, as she was making it for no one in particular, but she was determined to at least make it symmetric.
Somewhere in the bowels of her closet was a snazzy denim jacket made from an old pair of overalls that might have been perfect, if one arm wasn't four inches longer than the other.
Hearing the door, she waved over her shoulder at the unseen customer before bending to root through a box of scraps for a particular piece of pale green silk.
"Hey, lemme know if you need any help," she called, all the while bobbing her head to the music.
"Will do!" Juliet grinned to herself, starting to take a look around and moving across to a rack that caught her eye. She looked at it, trying to figure out if things were sorted by size or style, each store having its own different way of setting up. She hummed to herself as the music continued, the shop assistant obviously enjoying herself, the occasional clatter of a sewing machine cutting through the music.
She loved looking through these places in particular for things that might be handy as pieces for costumes she wore on stage at Devil's Own, liking to keep things changing over rather than contemplating the possibility of getting bored. When she'd started there it had been as a bit of a challenge, and joke, and she'd only done it to piss her mother off and freak her out. Now, since she'd learnt what she really was, and more about the Club and its owner, she was staying for a completely different reason, and was taking the dancing a little more seriously, rather than just something to do while she figured out what she would go on to now school was finished.
A small sequined skirt appeared in the shop assistant's hand and caught Juliet's eye. "Do you mind if I take a look at that?" she asked, moving across to where the large box of garments stood in front of the assistant.
"Knock yourself out, toots," Erica responded cheerfully, tossing the recently sewn mini at the woman who had been browsing the store. "Careful though, elastic may still be a bit tight. Frickin' tulle, ya know?"
The green silk could make a somewhat elegant top if sewn onto the tie-front bikini top she had fished out of her new array of materials. The problem was finding someone who could and would wear such a thing; it seemed the clientele for the pieces storming out of Erica's twisted imagination that day would be somewhat select.
She twisted the silk in hand, pulling a few pins from a tomato-shaped pincushion to begin lining the top to see if it might work. The music continued to pound and the jet black ponytail atop her head bounced to the beat as she bobbed about to the music. "Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock," she muttered, singing along.
The young pole-dancer caught the skirt tossed her way with ease, realising as she looked at it that it was handmade, not off-the-shelf, which explained why it had attracted her eye in the first place. She held it up against her, fingers hooked over her hips as she turned and watched the way the sequins glittered and sparkled. Being the only customer in the store she didn't bother with a change room, stepping into the skirt and sliding it up her legs till she hitched her dress up with her hands and fastened it. Holding the dress up she turned to look at it in the mirror, one hand holding her dress, the other reaching down to see if she could undo the skirt with one hand.
Erica arched an eyebrow when she noticed the half-naked chick's reflection in the large swivel mirror she'd picked up from an estate sale the week before. She hadn't decided yet if she had wanted to keep it in the store for just such an occasion, or sell it off to the first person who came asking. Not that the situation at hand was what she had actually imagined its use for. Someone holding a sweater up to see if it might fit, or if the color flattered? Sure. Random women hiking up their skirts and slipping on the merch? Not so much.
"There's a side-tie to that," she offered. "It started out as a tie-on bikini bottom but I cut out the crotch and used the base."
"So you made it?" Juliet asked, head turning to look at the assistant, nodding appreciatively as she finally found the tie. A small tug on the side ties that she located quickly once told they were there and the skirt quickly slipped down. "That's great!" she said happily, the hem of her dress settling back down again as she stooped to sweep up the tiny garment effortlessly.
"Do you have anything that will go with this? Like a jacket, and top? Midriff," Juliet asked, already putting together an outfit and routine to go with it. "Or can you make me some?" she added.
"Yeah, I made it," Erica agreed cheerfully. Though half of what had been flying off her sewing machine as of late had been nothing she could ever - or would ever - wear herself, she was still quite proud of her handiwork. Streetwalker chic and all.
"I think I have something that'll go with it, lemme check," she added, diving headfirst into the large cardboard box of scraps she kept beneath the counter. If memory served her, there would be a vest-type ensemble with a single button hook enclosure at the front that was made from the same material as the skirt. She had tossed it on the assumption it would be too scant for anyone to actually wear, but the customer wanted it, and the customer was always right...
While Juliet waited for the assistant to rummage through her large boxes she wandered across to another display, this one containing shoes. Being the build she was it was always a challenge to get shoes to fit, her Docs she wore patrolling now tailor-made for the comfort and reliability. Last thing she needed was a sole to come adrift as she and Rhi went over a fence or were really needing to hoof it. She picked up one of the smallest pair of shoes there and turned it over in her hand before pulling her foot out of the shoe she already had on and tried it on.
"Well, there's these two," Erica offered, emerging from the scrap pile with two separate pieces bedecked in the same sparkling sequins as the tiny skirt the other woman seemed to have taken a liking to. One was the vest she had been looking for, and the other a short cropped top with sleeves made of a translucent shimmering fabric. "And I can do a custom job if necessary," she added.
For whatever reason, the other woman seemed interested in Erica's stockpile of less than modest designs that had come from a flight of fancy and an overabundance of swimwear; Erica herself didn't care much to the reasoning, so long as she could move the merchandise.
The teenager looked across at Erica, discarding the shoe which had been too big, as usual. She looked at the two items as she approached, glancing down at the skirt that was hooked over her forearm now. "Might just try these on," she said, sizing up the two pieces. "Really into the sequins, huh?" she said with a grin as she headed for the small cubicle. "Got any shoes?" she added, telling the assistant her size. "Or boots, knee-high?"
"I just got a shitload of sparkly old-lady formal wear and my Bedazzler is busted, so what the hell," Erica responded with a shrug. The truth was, it had been awful depressing tearing apart sparkling old dresses and pantsuits that had been sold off from the estate of an elderly woman by her daughter.
The skinny bitch had looked strung out, too. Sequins for meth-money. What a deal.
But combined with the haul from the dance school, it all added up to pounds of glittery spangles.
"I think I have some hooker heels in a box underneath the table against the back wall!" she added, calling after the other woman as she disappeared behind a privacy screen that was painted with a gaudy Japanese design. "Only boots I had were some white go-gos and sorry, hon, but those are mine now."
"Damn, they sound like they would've been good," Juliet called out, slipping her dress over her head and pulling on the top, then vest. The sleeves were long enough, not unusual, but while she could get away with the large shoulder size the body was a little loose on her. She turned, looking at the sides, and called out, "could you adjust these? Take them in a little?"
"Of course!" Erica called, feeling as though her tailoring skills were called into question. "Hells bells, I was making custom outfits for my Barbie dolls before I even had a sewing machine. You just measure your lady-bits and your waist when you come out and I can fit it right to ya."
She pulled a well-worn measuring tape from beneath the counter and tossed it on top to wait for the customer's return. The song on the radio had changed and she turned if up a few notches, shuffling her feet behind the counter in an absent-minded groove to the dance tune while working back with the green silk. She'd make it presentable if it killed her.
Juliet's fingers folded the fabric, looking to see where it then sat on her back, reaching behind with her other hand and tucking it up. With a small nod of satisfaction she backed out from behind the screen, fingers still holding the material in place. "Could you pin these in?" she asked, indicating the pleats she was holding, most of her young life having been spent working with tailors and seamstresses when it came to creating costumes for her gymnastics, and then dancing. It wasn't just the family wealth, it was also her size, though in gymnastics they were more used to dealing with the smaller physical size of the athletes.
Erica made quick work of pinning the material in place; she kept a fair number of pins read and waiting behind the counter, sticking out of the face of a ragged old Rainbow Brite doll that made a fair pin cushion. Their use was rarely a necessity, however. Erica's creations were oftentimes made on the fly and without a model or waiting body, unless Erica was making them for herself.
"How's that?" she asked.
Able to let her arms fall to her sides again Juliet took a step forward to check the costume in the mirror, nodding slowly. A turn from one side to the other to inspect the movement and fit she lifted her arms above her head, stretching up then folded down, head touching her knees, arms wrapped around her legs for a split second before straightening again. Erect again she twisted side to side, cautious of the pinpricks. Sequins scratched against bare skin but nothing she wasn't already used to, her attention more on the flexibility of the material, and the pieces not getting caught on each other. Nothing worse than trying to get them off when they weren't wanting to play the game. The vest slipped off on one side but caught on the other, something inside catching on the silken sleeve. "Can you see what that is?" she asked, not tugging on it.
Erica knelt her head town to the other woman's elbow-level and squinted, trying to peer down the silken tunnel of a sleeve and see if there was anything there that might be causing a problem. Reading glasses be damned, she hadn't been taking the best care of her eyesight and saw little more than a soft blur brushing into the woman's skintone.
"Honestly, I can't see shit. Looks squared away from here. I'd suggest turning it inside out or something."
Juliet wriggled a little, the vest and top slipping off her shoulder on that side till they could turn it inside out and uncatch it. A small thread had pulled, but was able to be wriggled back into place with a bit of gentle persuasion. "Don't know what it was," she murmured, giving a small shrug and slipping her arm back in again. "Just need to make sure it slides off easy on stage," she added, pulling her hair out from beneath it.
Arching an eyebrow, Erica nodded. She had suspected as much.
"Uh... dancer?" she offered, unsure of what term the other woman would prefer. A former high school classmate had long been adamant that she was an exotic entertainer when she had been dancing topless at a bar down Higgins, not far off O'Hare.
"In my spare time!" Juliet answered, giving the assistant a grin and wink. The only reason she kept it up now was to keep an eye on the Club and it's owner. Despite her burn to find out more about the bad Slayer and her demonic boyfriend, Juliet had remembered the threat Rhiannon had made if Juliet asked any, let alone too many, questions. "It won't be pretty, and it sure as hell won't be quick, let me assure you," she said after telling Juliet just how nasty things could get if Bethany took a dislike to her. Or Darian. And despite that one time at the mall, she had no doubt that Rhiannon was telling her for her own good, not just to scare the hell out of her.
She swept her hair up with one hand and held it on top of her head as she rolled her shoulder and caused the vest to slip off, rippling her arm so it slid down the silky material sleeve beneath it. Twisting quickly she pulled that arm free and swapped hands on top of her head while going through the motions of getting the vest to slip slowly off her other shoulder, catching it with that hand and holding it up before letting it drop to the floor at the same time as she let her hair cascade back down over her shoulders. "Good! Didn't get caught that time, but hell, got to get you to put those pleats in because pins? In the ribs? Not a good thing when dancing! Sorta ruins the mood!" she laughed. "And these fastenings, any chance we can change them to small hook and eyes?"
"Whatever tickles your pickle," Erica responded. It was a lifestyle she had never quite been able to understand, but then, she didn't get the lure of the Soccer-Mom path or the driven career woman either. "But, yeah. I can make any alterations you need, but, seriously, yo. Measure."
She held up the measuring tape, worn and red and slack in her hand. "Pins slip or can get shuffled when you're taking stuff on and off. Besides, I could put a few other things into the same sizing, if ya'd like."
Juliet looked at the pile of materials and things that had been rummaged through earlier and gave a nod after looking back at the reflection in the mirror. "Yes, that'd be great," she agreed. "Might even get a few things taken in for streetwear too," she added, looking across at the racks. She stepped out clear of the screen to be measured, holding her arms out.
Erica had meant the girl take her own measurements - as she herself wasn't much one to let strangers do something quite so personal to her - but figured it easier just to get it done. She made short work of it, scribbling the notations on a pad of paper on the counter just as the cherry red phone sitting there began to buzz. She grabbed it, bobbing her head to the music that still played, as she read the text message that had been delivered.
"Aw, fuck a duck. I gotta jet. Anything else you need before I close up shop for the day?"
It was one of the down sides of working and living, or patrolling as most nights were, at night. By the time one slept and ate and worked out the rest of the world was finishing up for the day. "No, not for the moment. When will those be ready?" Juliet asked, picking up her handbag from where it was sitting on the floor. She was heading over to see Izzy when she finished her shift and realised she'd better get moving if she was going to pick her up.
Pocketing her phone and gathering the rest of her personal belongings from the counter top, Erica's brow creased for a short moment as she was considering the question. She really could work on the garments whenever she was in the shop, though that would entail spending a more regular amount of time at the shop.
But business was business. And making money was a good thing.
"Call it a week even," she said.
A week? Juliet shrugged and nodded. "A week," she said, figuring the woman must be by herself in the store all the time and be busier than she had been that afternoon. "Here's my card, let me know if they're ready any earlier," she said, leaving the card on the counter and heading for the door. While the idea of rummaging through op-shops was fun, and she'd found some great things in them, she knew that dealing with professionals had its advantages. "Otherwise I guess I'll see you then!" She left the store, already thinking about catching up with Izzy and telling her that more parts she had ordered had arrived.