Gaby Book 17 - Seasons

 
 
“What the heck are these?” I asked holding up the er garment.
“Knickers.”
“I can see that, I’m already wearing some,” I pointed out, “and these are a bit er old lady.”
“Fishnet sag.”
“You what?”
“Fishnet sag, you don’t want to be hitching your tights up every two minutes, they’re only control pants.”
“Whatever.”

I pulled the granny pants on, they felt like they were a size too small, they certainly weren’t going anywhere, nor were the tights.

“You’re kidding right?”
“Nope, arms up.”

With a sigh I complied allowing my dresser to wrap the corset around my waist, that’s all I need. However whilst Jules snugged it to me she didn’t pull it in as I’d expected, well that’s a relief.

“I thought you were going to pull it in tight.”
“Impractical.”
“So why am I wearing it then?”
“Shape, it emphasises your waist, you must be a size smaller than me, I’d struggle to get it this tight on me.”
“Too many takeaways!” I suggested.
“I can still tighten it,” she warned.
“Okay, okay, where’s this dress then?”

The dress certainly wasn’t what I’d expected, in fact it was a bit disappointing considering some of the stuff I know she has in her wardrobe. This was actually plain almost to the extreme, black yes but none of the lace and net I was expecting. It was even quite demure, if a garment that exposes most of your chest can be, three quarter sleeves, mid-thigh flared skirt, the only decoration a row of stitching under my boobs.
I tugged it into place, it was comfortable, surprise, but the corset certainly er emphasised my waist.

“This it?”
“Almost.”
There was a knock at the door, “Dinner’s nearly ready,” Mand called.
“’Kay,” Jules replied.
“What’s left then?”
“Put my flat boots on and I’ll find some jewellery.”

I did as bid, the boots were a bit big but at least you can walk in them okay, I didn’t fancy my chances of getting downstairs in some of Jules heels.

I was staring at my now hands, fingers and thumbs adorned with rings, black nails at each tip. An assortment of bracelets, rubber bands and bangles populated each arm, the unaccustomed weight a bit of a novelty. The choker was quite restrained by comparison even if it was closed with a padlock.

“Here, hold this in place,” she slapped a bit of paper on some exposed breast flesh before pressing it into place.
“What is it?”
“Tattoo.”
“Tattoo?” I went to pull it off only for my hand to be slapped away.
“Temporary dumbo.”

Well thinking about it it would have to be wouldn’t it?

“Stand still, I can’t get this earring in.”
“Ouch!”
“Well stand still then.”

There was a distinct tug on my lobes when she’d finished.
“They’re heavy.”
“You’ll get used to it, you can take the paper off now.”
I gently tugged the paper off my chest and peered down at my new artwork, I wasn’t impressed to see an unmissable and fairly ugly broken heart pulling at my eye.

“Last bits.”
“Good, I’m starving,” I allowed, the smell of a Sunday roast had been percolating upstairs for a good few minutes now.
Something pinched my nose, “Ow!”
“Soz, last one,” she slipped something over my bottom lip adjusting its position before squeezing it closed, “there that should stay in place, you’ll fit right in at the Black Cross.”
“Do I want to?”
“You might.”

I didn’t get a chance to check myself out in the mirror as Jules wasted no time in heading downstairs ahead of me. Oh well, in for a pfennig.

There was a deep intake of breath when I reached the dining room.
“Oh my God!” Mand exclaimed.
“Interesting look,” Dad offered whilst trying not to over react.
“I said nothing permanent,” Mum intoned.
“It washes out,” the Dark One replied defensively.
“Hmmph,” Mum opined, as she looked me over.
“Can we eat?” I asked.

It was roast lamb, oh yeah! Rosemary roast taters, carrots, sprouts and green beans, mint sauce of course and real, thick gravy – heaven. My appearance was irrelevant, at least to me, I dug in with gusto.

Around the table however my appearance was getting as much attention as the food, Jules was smiling, something was clearly fascinating Mand and whilst Dad was trying to remain neutral, Mum was clearly agitated.

“Give us a hand with the pud, Gab,” Mum requested.
“’Kay.”

“You okay with this, kiddo?” Mum asked as I stacked the plates into the dishwasher.
“Well I don’t think I’ll be joining the Dark Side but I did lose the bet.”
“And you knew what she wanted to do?”
“Well sort of, it’s only a bit of fun.”
“It was a lot of effort for a bit of fun.”
“You know Jules, all or nothing.”
“Hmm, take the dishes through.”

I nearly dropped the crockery when I saw my reflection in the hall mirror, shitza, maybe she has gone overboard. She might not’ve dyed my hair but the purply bluey greeny tones it now held were pretty intense, emphasised by the strictly plaited and coiled do on top of my head. Blue lipstick, pencil thin brows and ornate eyeliner was interesting as was the lip ring, I couldn’t for the life of me work out how she’d got the crystal on my nostril to stay put, glue I guess.

“Come on or the crumble’ll get cold,” Mum chided.
“Er right.”

It’s rhubarb and peach crumble with custard, sauce Anglais doesn’t sound right does it and to be honest the stuff the Germans serve up is but a poor imitation of the real thing!

“You should go to school like that,” Mand suggested as we shared her room to do last minute homeworky things.
“And why would I want to do that?”

It’s not like the girls won’t get to see Goth Gaby, Mand and my sister both took pictures after dinner so my current visage will go down in the annals of history.

“It would be a bit of a lark.”
“For who?”
“It’s not like you’ll get in trouble is it?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Scaredy cat!”
“I am not.”
“Well then, go schoolgirl Goth.”

Geez, she’s worse than Maddy, Maddy, now she’d’ve pushed the envelope for sure.
“No!”
“Spoilsport.”

Am I really doing this? My thoughts drifted back to last night…
I tapped on the door, “Jools!” I hissed, “Can I come in.”
“Wha, er ‘Kay.”
I slipped inside as she clicked a light on.
“What’s up?”
“You got anything I can wear to school tomorrow?”
“You’ve got loads of stuff.”
“Not Gothy.”
“You want to go to school like that?”

I hadn’t actually changed or showered yet so apart from the boots I was still doing the Dark bit.
“Er yeah.”
“I didn’t think you liked this stuff?”
“Well I don’t, exactly, but it’d be a good wind up. So do you, you know have something?”
“What’s wrong with that stuff?”
“It’s winter?”
“Whatever, hang on a mo, I need a wee now.”

I felt a right plonk to be honest, I kept the hair, the braids just about surviving the night and it was only when I cleaned off the makeup that I discovered the sparkle on my nose wasn’t stuck on. That pinch yesterday afternoon, the moo has pierced my nose and I couldn’t work out how to get it out, a gentle tug just moved the sparkle a bit, at least the lip ring just pulled off. Jules had come up with an outfit that was definitely Goth even if it wasn’t much warmer than the dress – at least there was less boob on show.

What am I wearing? Well less makeup than Jules used but still heavy on eyeliner but with black lips and the heavy Ankh earrings. The tights and granny pants are back with ratty black shorts; on top I did at least have several layers of vests, t’s with a hoody over everything. The piece de resistance were Goth Gurl’s big boots, you know the sort of thing, stack sole, lace up to the knee, big on straps and studs.

I pulled the hood up and clomped into Thesing’s.

I could feel the girl’s eyes drilling into me from across in the café as I waited for Therese to finish serving Frau Holdorf, you remember, of Fritzy ownership.

“Tut, girls these days!” my nemesis mentioned as she left.
“Sorry about that,” Therese offered, “What would you like?”
“Milchkaffee bitte.”
“Gaby?”
Some disguise eh?

“Shush!”
“Take a seat, I’ll bring it over, fraulein.”

I clumped to a table close enough to the others that I could hear their conversation, sat with my back to them and slipped the hood off.

“Wonder where Gab’s is?” Pia queried.
“She hasn’t rung, probably overslept again,” Steff suggested.
Overslept, I had to get up well early to get dressed in this lot.

“Not seen her before,” Bridg stated, “looks a right tart.”
“Shush, she’ll hear,” Nena told her.
“So what?”
“Might be one of Juliette’s friends stayed over or something,” Con suggested.
My eavesdropping was interrupted by Frau T, “Here you go, you want the usual for lunch?”
“Thanks, er please.”
“So what’s this about?” she asked, “it’s an interesting look.”
“Just experimenting.”

To be honest I’m not really sure why I’m going to school dressed like a grunge hooker.

“You want this Pflaumkuchen, Gab?” Con’s voice asked from by my ear, which caused me to almost jump out of Jules’ boots.

Maddy Bell 27.07.16