Chapter 9

Manny arrived with his camera and a flash with a power pack on his belt. He waited, with a big grin, while Carol and Sally brought me back to my basic self, with the brows and lashes removed as well. I posed for him with a copy of todays’ paper held in my hands to confirm the date.

It didn’t take long for the girls to pencil in eyebrows and liner on my top lids, then adding a normal mans’ wig in a mousey brown. For the next picture, wearing a suit and tie, I had the paper and a small card that had the number one on it. After the pictures were taken, I was transformed into a rock star, complete with one earring, long hair and a moustache, in bell bottom pants and a frilled shirt. Think Freddie Mercury with a pixie face and you’ve got it. For that look, I had the paper and a card with two on it.

For the next look, we moved into the female look, with the girls working with a photo. This time, I ended up with flesh coloured hose and heels, a mini dress and a long, light brown wig. I was back with the proper brows, lashes and jewels. When this picture was taken, I held the paper, hanging clasped in one hand but still readable, and the card with number three held as if I was standing in a pose in a ‘fashions on the field’ shot. This was the typical Jean Shrimpton memory.

Number four was a shiny black dress, over dark hose and a very heavy application of make-up around the eyes, topped with a short black wig and bright red lipstick. For this, I held the card and paper in one hand, so that the paper was still recognisable. This was the Peggy Moffitt look. After that, Carol wanted to try for another. The dark hose remained, but the heels were the highest that I’d ever worn, so it was lucky that all I needed to do was stand in them. While the other two had me with minimal breasts, this time we went up a couple of sizes, and I was in a smart cocktail dress with a long split up the side, with lots of jewellery and long, ash blonde locks. I sneaked a look at the picture that they were using, and it was taken from a Vogue article on Veruschka. For that picture, I held the paper and card, with me looking haughty and as if I was about to throw the paper away. Manny had wheeled a water cooler in for me to stand beside, to emphasise my height.

The last picture had me still holding the paper, and back into my Zoe persona, with the flaming hair, in a new outfit that had been chosen for me to wear at the meeting with the press. It was a retro-fifties dress with a big skirt and a simple bodice, but very colourful with a flower print, and I was back down to two-inch heels. Sally wore a similar dress and looked magnificent. Manny wanted a couple of pictures of the two of us.

After he’d left, Carol took these dresses to set aside for the meeting, and we were back into what we had arrived in. The process had taken all morning, so Carol took us to the Grill for lunch. She told us that the meeting had been set for Friday morning, and to come in early to avoid any scrutiny. We would be dressed and made-up before going to the conference room.

“There will be a screen showing a slide show of the campaign adverts. We’ll wait until we hear Mavis introduce you, and the picture on the screen will be the one from today of the two of you as you walk in. That will set the scene as you’ll look exactly the same, and the media would have arrived from the winter outside to see two radiant beauties looking like summer. These dresses are indicative of the sort of outfits you’ll be modelling in March.”

While we were in the grill, Sallys’ phone chirruped, and she saw a text for us to go to the agency to get some paperwork. We left the store and went back to the apartment to freshen up. We called an Uber to take us, then waited in the lobby until it arrived.

At the agency, we were greeted warmly by Robin, and she had small parcels for us. They were our new passports. I opened mine and it was a picture of the real me, but there was an extra page, with a picture of me as Zoe, with a declaration that I may be travelling with this look, as it was my appearance as a fashion model. The name and other details were correct. It seemed that the airports were using facial recognition, and it didn’t matter who I was made up to be, my face shape was unchanged. There was a sheet telling me what I must and mustn’t do approaching the barrier.

While we were in the area, we walked to H&M and did some shopping for more normal clothes. I had liked that ivory skirt and the range was more easy care than the other things we had been given. We would just have to make certain that we didn’t wear it to the store.

From there, we strolled down Bread Street to the Gordon Ramsay Pizza store where we had dinner, with a margherita and an idiot pizza which we shared. After that, we flagged a normal taxi and went back to the high life in Knightsbridge.

We had an early night, strictly for sleep as it was going to be a busy day tomorrow and we needed to be at our best. We laid there for a while, cuddling and talking.

“Are you ready for tomorrow, love, when it all hits the fan? Mavis is certainly making sure she has the answers at hand, even if she doesn’t instigate the discussion.”

“I think so. We’ll have to stay cool and steady. Our experience in retail should help us there.”

“I all depends on how the press push it. Will they be screaming at us or will they be more like real human beings.”

“They’re the press, love, humanity is merely a concept that others should follow. Perhaps the fashion press is more human than others.”

In the morning, we took care with our preparation and then walked to the store. As we hung our coats, Carol came in and took us to be changed into the dresses and make-up that we had been photographed in. Then, she led us to a meeting room with a dais and some chairs set out. There was a table set up on the dais, with a bunch of papers and three chairs behind it. There was a big screen between that and another door, which she led us to.

“We’ll wait in here until we get the word from Mavis to make your entrance. When you go out, stand for a few moments so that the press can see that the two of you are the ones in the picture. The press will have the main seats, but there will be the other models from the shoot in the room, seeing that it’s a launch of the campaign. I’ll be in this room.”

In the other room, we saw some comfortable chairs and a buffet with the makings for teas and coffees. By the door was a desk, with two screens and a computer.

“I’ll be here, making a recording of the proceedings. There are just two cameras, and I’ll switch between the one showing the dais and that screen, which Mavis has the controller for, and one behind you showing the rest of the room. It’s for internal records but was helpful some years ago when one of the press made accusations that the management didn’t like. The microphones are hidden in the light fixtures.”

We made ourselves comfortable, and waited until we saw Mavis come in, followed by the other models and then the press arrived. They sat and settled, and then Mavis opened the meeting.

“Thank you all for coming, this morning. The purpose of this is to launch our campaign that starts this week in the magazines and carrying on into spring. I’ll show you the full set now. Our usual models are on hand if you want to talk to them. There are two new models, and I’ll bring them in after this presentation.”

We waited as she went through each advert, describing the outfits and reiterating the manufacturers. There were a few questions about some of the new designs. Carol told us to get ready, so we stood by the door as we heard Mavis speak.

“Now, I promised that you’d meet our two latest additions to our modelling team. The campaign was their first photo shoot, so it’s certain that you’ve never met them before. This is the latest picture that they’ve posed for, in dresses that will give you all an idea of what the spring and summer range will look like. I give you Sally Foreman and Harriette Sharpe.”

Carol opened the door and we walked into the lions’ den. We stood beside the screen that showed us in the same dresses.

“Sally is twenty-one, is a fully qualified cosmetician and helped our Carol on the shoot. Before joining us, she had worked in a salon in Braintree. Harriette is also from Braintree, is twenty, and worked in retail in the same centre as Sally. Come on up to the desk, girls. We’ll take questions for Sally first.”

We stepped up and sat down, and there were questions for Sally, about her life, likes, and plans for the future. She refrained from telling them that she wanted to help the poor and needy, and then hold climate change back. I watched the press and noticed that there was one who was looking at me with a grin on his face.

When they had finished with Sally, Mavis asked if there were questions for me. The guy that had been watching me put his hand up.

“Yes, Alan. You have a question?”

“I do, Mavis. I looked at the names on the sheet that you sent with the advertising copy. I researched your new models and I found Sally on the census records but didn’t find Harriette Sharpe. I did, however, find a Harold Sharpe with the right age. What on earth is going on. You either have used someone’s name to hide the true identity of this girl, or else this is a very beautiful boy.”

Mavis looked at me and showed that she had the controller in her hand. I nodded and stood up.

“Thank you for the complement, sir. To answer your question in a way that you can all understand, I’d like you to look at some pictures. You may, if you want, call out the name of the model shown.”

Mavis clicked for the first picture, which was the Veruschka one. One of the audience called out the name.

“Quite right, sir. This is a picture of me, looking like Veruschka. You will note the card with the number and the newspaper that I’m holding. Those of you that still read the actual paper will note that it’s yesterdays’ edition.”

I glanced at Mavis, who was trying to hold back the laughter. She pressed the button again. Another one called out that it was Peggy Moffitt.

“Correct, sir. If you note that the number on the card is one back from the previous one, but it’s the same newspaper. A lot of what people remember about models in their day is the usual look with the hair and make-up. This next picture is one that most of you will remember.”

Mavis clicked the button, and the Jean Shrimpton picture came on the screen with some in the audience asking what sort of charade this was.

“It’s no charade, folks. If you look at the card, we’re back another number, and the paper is the same. All of these pictures are of me as tall and slim models of the past. I did get made up as one of the current models to show the management of the concessions here what was possible, thinking that I couldn’t pose as a younger girl.”

Mavis cut in.

“This is the original picture that I was shown, which was the only one I needed to get me to sign Harriette on as my new model. You would have remembered that I employed Zoe here for close to twenty years.”

She had the one that was taken in the agency. I looked at it and turned back to the audience.

“Now, sir, we come to the nub of your question. The next two pictures are closer to the real me, as you’ve guessed. Note the card number and the paper.”

Mavis clicked again and the picture of the rock star came on. There were murmurs and then she clicked again to show me in the suit and a boys’ hair.

“There is one other that we have to show you, and that is the bare facts of who I am. You were right, sir. I am Harold Sharpe, but not beautiful. In fact, most of my life I’ve been called a freak and avoided. I have alopecia universalis, which means that do not have a single hair on my body. With the skills that Sally and Carol have, I can be almost anyone.”

The last picture came on the screen, with me holding the same paper. There was a shocked silence, and then one of the women started to clap, followed by most of the audience. Alan stood up and bowed.

“I stand in awe, Harry. You’re one out of the box, I give you that. I doubt that there’s ever been a fashion model quite like you, and I doubt that there will be another. I was ready to write a piece about the campaign but wasn’t sure why it felt wrong. You’ve explained why you can look like any model around the same height and shape, and Any idea of scandal mongering has gone. Will you be using these other looks?”

Mavis answered that one.

“We’re planning the shoot next year to utilise whatever look we can to promote the garments. As you can see, these girls look good in this new line. A recreation of forties and fifties designs, which the garment trade will be pushing for the next summer. They are all light and airy, with consideration of any heat waves that the scientists tell us to expect.”

There were a few questions on how I came to be here, and then a dapper-looking man put his hand up.

“Yes, Quentin, you’ve been very quiet, today. I’m sure that you’re ready to bring us some enlightenment.”

“I am, Mavis. I was listening to everything in wonder and appreciation of what Harry had done by telling us up front about his true self. As well, I may say, about your own bravery to take the chance with him. If you continue to use the name of Harriette Sharpe, someone with less ethics to those in this room will find the truth and try to pull you all down. What I’m suggesting is that she is given a name that we can all take way today and use in our writing.”

“I’m sure, Quentin, that you do have a few ideas in that brain of yours, considering your degree in history.”

“I have a few, Mavis. If we think about shapeshifters from the myths and mysteries, there is Loki, from the Norse myths. He had a daughter, called Eisa. Then, in Celtic mythology, there was a coupling of Morrigan and the Dagda, which produced Adair, and some say Brigid. The one that I like is from the gods. There was Proteus, the god of the sea, and he had a daughter called Theonoe. If you use Harlequin, Chimera, or Chameleon, it’s too simple for someone so complicated.”

There was some discussion with other suggestions, but the consensus was that a version of Theonoe would be mystical enough. The final one was Theone. I didn’t mind that one. It would look interesting in print, a bit like The One, but pronounced Theeonee. After that, there was a general talkfest, with the two of us being hugged by the other models, both male and female, and most of the female scribes. The normal comment was how brave I was, as well as how good I looked in all the different guises.

By the time the reporters had left, Mavis had me booked in for interviews and photo shoots for the next week, with me insisting that Sally be included in all of them, as she was my personal cosmetician. After the room was just us, we had a meeting where all the models were told about the shoot in March. The men wouldn’t have much to do, just there to make the girls look good. The other girls were quite excited with the look being girly but with elegance.

Sylvia asked us what we were doing on the weekend, and we said that we didn’t have anything planned. Before we left, we had an appointment where we would be picked up at ten Saturday morning and spend the day with the other three models. Anthea had a car to take us around. The retro look of the new range had triggered a desire in the others, and we were going to hit a few vintage fashion shops, eat, drink and go to a nightclub in the evening.

We spent the rest of the day in the store, strolling around and being seen by the customers, passing large screens showing the advertising on rotation, so we were easily recognised as two of the models. We even had a few who wanted autographs, with me now signing as Theone. The concessions had us in their stores for about half an hour, each to talk to their customers. We met a lot of ladies with very posh voices, as well as a few bleached blondes who had strong accents. More than one manager told us that sporting wives may be brash, but they knew how to spend.

We had dinner in the Grill again. I was slowly working through a list of things I had never been offered in the past, and enjoyed most of what was offered. If there was anything that they thought may be a step too far, I was advised of what it was, and how hot it may be before they took my order.

On Saturday morning, we dressed carefully, with the thought that we may be changing often, and waited in the lobby until Anthea pulled up. We were in the back seat with Veronica, the smallest of the three. We started out in Soho and I was enchanted with the whole area. After Anthea had found a parking spot, we hit the Beyond Retro store, trying out various items and taking pictures on phones. I did lash out on a suede jacket with a pair of pixie boots that matched, and both of us bought a couple of dresses in sixties prints and bold colours.

We put our bags in the back of the car and then went to Vintage Threads, where I got a couple of really good skirts. With those bags in the car, we had lunch at the Noble Rot, where we shared a seafood plate and a meat plate, with wine to wash it down. The venue was small and cosy, and we were looked after well. By this time, we were all getting on as a group. OK, we had spent two days together at the shoot, but that was work and this was socialising.

After lunch, we drove the short distance to Covent Garden to raid the Blackout II shop, which specialised in vintage jewels and lingerie. We were quite a while in there, and then we went south of the river to West Norwood and the Cenci store that specialised in bags, belts and gloves, among other things. Loading the car with our last purchases, we walked to the Four Hundred Rabbits Pizza restaurant, which had an amazing menu of mainly vegan pizzas. We had a large vegan pineapple one and a large anchovy one to share. For me, the whole day had been a new and wonderful experience. I was out as a girl in a bunch of beautiful girls, and we laughed a lot.

Sylvia and Veronica shared a house in Dulwich, in Lovelace Road, opposite the All-Saints Church. It was painted in sparkling white. Anthea pulled up in the drive and we unloaded our bags. In the house, we shared the two bathrooms and the three bedrooms to freshen up and get changed. We were going out in total vintage fashion to make a statement. Sally was in charge of our make-up, and we all looked good. We put our two loads of shopping into as few bags as we could and put them in the back of the car with Anthea’s.

We called for two Ubers to take us to the Streatham Club, in the White Lion pub. It was an eye-opener for me, having never been to a place like it. There was a reggae band, who pumped out high energy music. We drank a bit and danced a lot, among ourselves and then with guys. We may have stood out as a bit different, but it didn’t decrease the interest in us as dance partners. It was pretty late when I was dancing a slow number with a guy and he proved, as he pulled me towards him by the posterior, that he was very happy to see me.

He did give me my first kiss from a guy before we left. I didn’t know whether I felt happy or angry but didn’t make a scene as I saw that Sally was exchanging saliva with the guy she was dancing with. We took Ubers back to the house, and Anthea drove us back to Knightsbridge. Whatever it was that had raised my libido, we made wonderful love before getting any sleep that night.

Sunday, we slept late and pottered around the apartment, putting our new things away. We were both building a nice collection of clothes that would be useful when we wanted to look normal. Well, as normal as a couple of models could be. In the afternoon, we both rang home, Sally on her mobile in the bedroom, and me sitting in the lounge.

Mum was keen to find out how we were doing. She was happier when I told her that I had the passport in my normal name, but with an extra page showing me as Zoe. She had a laugh after I told her about the meeting and my new name.

“You’re telling me to look out for Theone?”

“Some magazines should be out next week. Look out for the covers in the newsagent. We’re flat out with interviews and photo shoots next week, so will likely be in the ones in December. I’m going to send some pictures to your email. Manny, our photographer, has sent me a few that we did in the week to show my versatility, as well as showing the press the true me as a plain canvas to be painted with whatever you desire.”

I told her that we were likely to have the time between Christmas and New Year to come home and would email her with the arrival time. I sent her a selection of the pictures that Manny had sent me, and then did some research on train times on Boxing Day. There were no trains on Boxing Day, so I checked the next day and found that normal service was being run.

When Sally came into the lounge, I asked her if she wanted to go home after Christmas. She said that it would be nice, so I told her that normal service was operating from the twenty-seventh, with the return service operating from the second of January. We wouldn’t be travelling enough times to get a season ticket, so would need to get return tickets. We could Uber to and from Liverpool Street. On Monday, we confirmed with Mavis, that we were on holiday from Christmas Eve until the sixth of January.

Marianne Gregory © 2026