Chapter 11

Mum and John were with us until Saturday, turning the visit into a couple of days exploring the city, a place that was bringing Mum out of her small-town life, now ready to embrace a new future with the man she loved.

Sally and I went with them at times but gave them plenty of space to be themselves, away from the usual crowds in Braintree. I think that those few days did something to them, as our time here had done to us. It allowed them to fully sense that there was another world, with other opportunities. It was a mother that I remembered as a toddler that left us that Saturday. She smiled more than I had seen for the last dozen years. John seemed to have gained a new sense of purpose as well.

On the Monday afternoon, the five of us flew business class to New York, where we were taken to our hotel in a stretch limo. Over the course of the two weeks, we had meet and greets in each of the four fashion outlets, and a couple of fashion shows in each place. We met a lot of their customers, some at every occasion, and signed so many ‘special event programs’ that we all had stiff fingers. We ate well, we saw some of the sights, and we were treated like queens.

From there, it was first class to Tokyo and more of the same. Many weeks later, we had a short flight from Paris to Gatwick. For Sally and I, we had been to places we had only read about in schoolbooks, had met a lot of influential people, and had earned sixty thousand pounds while we were being royally looked after. The five of us had been taken to parties and made a lot of contacts. We met upper management from other manufacturers of clothing, shoes and accessories. I had a plastic sandwich bag with about fifty business cards in when I unpacked.

I hadn’t taken my phone with me and turned it on when I had some time. There were several notifications of missed calls, many from private numbers, but a few from one I knew. I rang it to speak to Mum.

“Hi, Mum, We’re home again. What’s up?”

“Did you have a good trip?”

“We did. There was a lot of walking up and down with fabulous clothes on, answering a lot of questions and fending off brash guys whose only reason to talk to me was to get me into bed with them. We had three experienced models to give us tips on how to do things, and we got pretty good with it.”

“That’s good. The reason I rang earlier, was to see if you can find time to come to our wedding. It will be at the registrar in Braintree next Saturday at three. Reception at the hotel we went to on your first night after Christmas, and then we’re off on a honeymoon to Devon where we’ll be looking at properties. John is keen to follow through with his artistic plans. He has done a few pictures and he’s quite good.”

“All right. We’ll organise a car and driver and stay at the Travelodge Saturday night. I’m so happy for you. Anything special for a wedding gift?”

“Hold off until we get somewhere to live, and then you can get us a toaster or something. Just a card will be all that will be needed, for appearance sake.”

“All right, we’ll see you there on the big day. It’s not every day your mother gets married.”

We had a little time of to recover from the trip. I went into the stationers and got a card to give to Mum and a card holder to store all the business cards. We spoke to Jerry about getting a car for the weekend to go to Braintree. He volunteered to drive us in one of the company cars as long as we supplied food and accommodation. We booked two rooms at the hotel and then looked through our wardrobe for something to wear at the wedding and reception. We were, after all, now famous models.

The only other thing that happened was a meeting with Mavis, which Yvonne also attended. It had been noted how strongly the press were supporting me, with constant reports from our trip and photos from some of the shows. We were now four months into the six-month contract, and Yvonne was working to secure our future. The four main outlets were behind us, and we didn’t need to say very much as a deal was thrashed out.

The result staggered us, as we would get ten thousand a week to the end of the contract, and the next one would see us as faces of the outlets for the next two years, at two million a year, each. All four companies, as well as the store, were extremely happy about Theone and the attention she had attracted. When we signed the contracts, we would both get a hundred and fifty thousand as a signing bonus.

With our future confirmed, we postponed any ideas about a family until the end of the two years. One thing that we were certain of was that we would be working hard over that period, with fashion shoots and shows. We were booked for Milan, New York, Paris and London, as well as Tokyo, Dubai and Shanghai. Prada was the biggest contributor to our income, and we were to be highlights in their shows more than the others, also featuring their top-end, Italian-made shoe range.

On Saturday morning, Jerry picked us up and drove us to Braintree, possibly for the last time. We checked into the hotel and left our bags in their store, as we wouldn’t be able to get the room until after three, so were already dressed for the wedding. We went and had lunch in Fowlers Farm, maybe overdressed for the venue and getting a lot of attention. I was in full Theone mode today, and that created a scene wherever we went. It certainly created attention at the Registry Office, where the local paper had a reporter and photographer to record the wedding of a local businessman, not expecting that the brides’ daughter would attend. Sallys’ parents had been invited, so it was good to catch up with them as well.

After the wedding, we checked into our rooms, gave Jerry money to get his own dinner at The House, and freshened up. He escorted us to the reception, basking in the attention of some of the locals taking pictures of him with a famous model on each arm. It was an interesting event, with the two of us treated as part of the wedding party. Bernard didn’t attend, John telling us that his son wasn’t happy at his father transferring his attention to ‘that woman’.

Everyone who we wanted to meet were at the reception, so we left the hotel after breakfast and said our silent goodbyes to Braintree, for ever. The announcement of our new contracts hadn’t been made yet, so the attention was still around the campaign that was still running.

On Monday morning, we were in Milan for Fashion Week with the three girls, and then we were at the airport to fly to La Palma, to join the four guys for the photo shoot. The weather was perfect when we arrived, met by Manny and his crew, who had been there a week, looking for suitable sites. Outfits and accessories had been airfreighted in and were in a leased storage shed, along with the hired bus and the vans that the crew had driven there with their gear. Manny admitted that it had been like a paid holiday, driving through France and Spain and then onto the ferry to the island.

We spent March in sunshine and summer outfits, going to a different site every couple of days. We worked, but not that hard, having enough time to get things perfect without the stress of a time limit. Us girls made sure we got a nice tan but used the power of lotions to keep us from burning. There’s never been a fashion advert where the model has peeling skin.

When the shoot was wound up, we had a big dinner in our hotel to celebrate. The next day, the other models flew back to England. Sally and I were staying on for a few days and helped Manny and his crew pack up. He showed us some of the pictures that he really liked and emailed them to our laptops in London. When they were on the ferry back to the mainland, Sally and I were heading for the airport. We were flying to Florence, where we were to be met by someone from Prada. We would be spending a couple of weeks visiting their manufacturing sites. It was really interesting, seeing the clothes being made, talking to designers and seeing sketches for the autumn, winter, and even next year’s fashion ideas.

I was particularly interested in the shoe factory, with my years working with a boot last in the Kiosk. I had several good conversations with the production managers about shoe design and manufacturing methods. In my time in the Kiosk, I had several pairs of high-end shoes brought to me that were impossible to renew, because the leather sole was the whole of the sole, and a resole was impossible unless you were a fully equipped cobbler. I joked that the company may lose some money by making shoes that would be able to be easily repaired but may gain more customers from a less rich clientele.

At the end of that visit, we were driven to a place that has its own legendary status. We walked the runways for four days of the Monte Carlo Fashion week, wearing some of the outfits that we had worn during the shoot last month, as it was aimed at resort wear. We had a few days back in London when we signed the contracts.

After that, we were back in Florence as guests of Gucci, to look at their factories. While we were there, we met with some of the upper management of the holding company, Kering, which also owned Saint Laurent, Bottega Veneta, Balenciaga, McQueen, Brioni, Boucheron, Pomellato, DoDo, Qeelin, Ginori 1735 as well as Kering Eyewear and Kering Beauté. They were keen for us to transfer our allegiance and were disappointed that we had committed ourselves for another two years. They said that they would talk to the other partners and see if we could wear some of their other ranges outside of Britain.

We had a few weeks back in the store, looking good and talking to customers in the concessions. Then we were off again, back to Florence for the Pitti Immagine Uomo, as hostesses for the big trade show for menswear, which some of our employers also sold.

A week later, we were back again for the Pitti Immagine Filati, another trade show aimed at showing yarns and materials.

A few days later, we were in Paris for the Haute Couture Week, in fabulous fashions and meeting a lot of other professional models, some nice, some not so nice. We had another couple of weeks back in the store, and then we were off again to visit Prada stores in America, firstly a week in Miami, another week in Las Vegas, and then a fortnight in Los Angeles.

For all of August, we were in Europe and further north, starting in Copenhagen, followed a couple of days later by Oslo, and then Stockholm before back to Amsterdam. It was a hectic time, with just a couple of days between events. We were scheduled to be in New York for their fashion week in the beginning of September, but things had changed, and I was unlikely to be allowed into the country with my old passport and my new identity.

Sally was, by now a well-respected model in her own right, having been in so many shoots and shows with me, so she went off to New York while I stayed in London, helping our employers to prepare for the London Fashion Week. I caught up with missed calls and unanswered emails. Mum and John had found a place to live in Saint Just, Cornwall, on the Cape Cornwall Road and within a couple of miles of the rugged west coast. There was a thriving artist group in the area, several galleries, and they had fitted in well.

There were other calls that were mainly from scammers, but there were a few emails that were worth replying to. A couple from the contacts that we had made. One of the problems in the industry was the imposition of tariffs, so dropping the sales to the USA and messing up the trade between almost everywhere. I wasn’t the only one being barred, with others unable to work in the US due to their sexuality, while others it was due to their politics. The whole world of trade was shifting, and the fashion business wasn’t avoiding the fall-out. I had been invited to talk with a group of Prada managers after we had finished the Paris show in the beginning of October, before we did another winter and spring shoot at the end of that month. That one would be the first anniversary of our career. I forwarded that one to Mavis, with a note asking her what she thought. We had a talk while at the venue for the fashion show. Mavis told me to go and see them but to talk to her on behalf of the other partners before I committed to anything.

Sally came back from the New York show with all the gossip. Nobody in New York was happy with the way things were going. The numbers of tourists in town was at an all-time low, and the prices of everything was going up, even things locally made, as local producers took advantage at the lack of cheaper opposition.

The London event was weird and wonderful as usual, with many trying to capture the imagination for the following year, and as usual, most falling short. We mainly showed the outfits that we would wear in the shoot in a month or so and they were well received. The following day, we were in Milan for their show, mainly wearing Prada and the same outfits with a few extras. After that, it was Paris again, the last big show of the year, where we mainly wore Chanel and Dior.

We flew from Paris to Florence to attend the meeting. When we walked in, we were both greeted warmly and sat at the conference table. One of the upper management stood up and spoke in Italian. We had an interpreter between us.

“Today, we are here to talk about the troubles that recent trade problems have brought us. We are losing sales in the US, as well as countries that are behind them with the trade wars. We don’t know what to think, as we may come up with a solution to find that the goalposts have been shifted again. When Harriette was here, some months ago, she spoke to one of our line managers about making shoes that could be easily re-soled and heeled. For a while, he thought that it was a joke, but passed it on to a sales manager who thought about it. Harriette, how did you think of this?”

“I spent three years in a kiosk, doing engraving and shoe repairs. Most of the shoes that were brought to me were the usual that could be given a new life. Some had been bought at op-shops with the purchaser thinking they had a bargain once they had been repaired, only for me to tell them that they were worn out and that the sole was an integral part of the design. I would have to advise them to find a cobbler with the tools and experience, or else return them to the factory. Most would just drop them in a bin on the way out.”

“Have you anymore that you’d like to add?”

“Yes. I’ve had several talks with the manager at the shoe concession in the store, and I’ve had a look at the stock. You, like Louboutin, do very nice shoes with a life of the leather sole. I know you do some shoes with replaceable soles, but as I said, they need to be returned or worked on by a specialist. Good cobblers aren’t easy to find these days, and the market is usually served by booths in shopping centres. You may get a new group of customers who want to keep their shoes for a lot longer if you marketed a line with easier repair. I thought that you could make a shoe where the leather sole is attached to a thin synthetic layer and can be removed and replaced. Heels are easy, but the sole is the problem area.”

“That sounds doable. What do you guys think?”

One of them raised his biro.

“It’s a reasonable idea, sir, but we’ll lose new shoe sales if they can get them repaired at booths.”

“OK. Harriette?”

“If the customer is treated as someone special, they would buy again without looking around. If you had someone in the store who has been trained, you just need a last in a back room, plus the usual tools. As far as stock goes, you’re only repairing your own product, so you only need those spares, and you don’t have to supply the soles outside the company. By getting the soles in larger numbers, you can lower the cost. Now, if the customer had walked in wearing those shoes, they would be in the store, in stockinged feet, while the repair is being made. What else will she do but try new shoes on. You could even make the repairs free, or the cost taken off future purchases.”

“Point taken. How about production?”

One of the others grinned.

“It would take a while to add the equipment, sir. We can make the product in the same way, just replacing the usual sole with one that will take the extra layer. We’ll need to extend the line with machinery to add pre-glued soles, and then a station that cures the glue. Beyond that, it’s much the same.”

“Timeline?”

“Twelve to eighteen months to make the changes. The machinery will need to be designed, built and tested. We’ll also need to find a good glue that will hold strongly, but also be able to be overcome to do the repair. I’m sure that there are plenty on the market already.”

“What will we tell the franchise managers?”

“We could trial it in one of our outlets and see how it plays out, hand making a small run of shoes and having focus groups discuss it. Then roll it out where it can do most help. A lot depends on how well they feel when they’re worn.”

“OK. I’ll talk to the money men to work out a budget. If we hand make a number, we can have them worn in parades next year to see how they work, and more importantly, if the reporters pick up the difference in looks. I think we’ll have lunch. We’ve done well, this morning. Thank you, girls, for coming to talk with us.”

Before we left, they gave us a dozen pairs of shoes, six in my size and six in Sallys’. Back in London, we had a short break before a photo shoot on the spring and summer store collection. We didn’t have to go far, as it was to be shot in Carlyle’s House, in Chelsea. It wasn’t as grand as the venue last year, but was chosen to reflect the new world situation, and to show elegance without ostentation. It was a full week, with our usual models, and we spent the rest of the year in the store, ending with the carols by the tree.

Sally and I clubbed together and bought a car, an Audi Q3, keeping it in the under-store garage. We took the odd weekend away from Knightsbridge, going down to the southern coast for a little time away. Seeing that we had been working for a little over a year, we were told that we would have three weeks off after the close of business on Christmas Eve. I contacted Mum and arranged to go to Saint Just for a couple of weeks.

We booked two weeks at the Commercial Hotel, so as to not be a burden on the others, as Mum had advised me that their spare room was being used as a studio. We were to be Harry and Sally Sharpe for the whole week. In the weeks before the break, I went around to the menswear outlets to buy some boxers, shirts and jeans, ‘for some cousins’ One Saturday, we went to another shopping centre with me in a male wig and I got a couple of good knits and a leather biker jacket, as well as a couple of pairs on new shoes and a pair of boots if there was snow on the ground.

Christmas day, we had lunch in the executive dining room, with a different feel from last year. We were now considered as ambassadors for the store, with our big list of contacts and our closer friendship with our employers than the usual model. We had another year and a bit with our contract, and there were murmurings about the renewal. I wasn’t so sure that Theone would be as interesting to the press by then, and we were starting to think seriously about our life from that time. Yes, the career had been fun, as well as hard work and a constant need to be looking like a successful top model. I was sure that something may come along to fill our time.

Sally removed the brows and lashes on Boxing Day, replacing the brows with more manly bushes, and the short wig was glued directly to my scalp, so I needed to wash it every few days. We packed our cases for the holiday, Sally with a range of warm clothes, and me with just my male items and a toiletry bag with new male deodorant. I had also been speaking to Manny about a good camera for a total amateur and that was now wrapped in my new pyjamas. We locked the apartment and took our bags down. Sally went and got our car, and we loaded the bags in and set off.

We had allowed two days to travel to Saint Just, and we spent that night in the Kings Arms Hotel in Dorchester. The next day we arrived at the Commercial Hotel. This was going to be the longest period of me not being Theone. I was finding the clothes a bit heavier and coarse, so Sally gave me a camisole to wear under the shirt, which helped.

The two weeks in Saint Just was like being on another planet. John took us around to the various special places where he and others liked to paint. I took lots of pictures of the scenery and our group. We were taken to the various galleries. Mum even had a few for sale. New Year was sitting in the hotel lounge, watching the fireworks on the TV. We explored the local area, from Lands’ End to Truro, had lots of meals in lots of places, along with lots of laughs. It allowed John to come to grips with me, as Harry, and not a famous woman.

On the Friday before we left, Sally and I were taken to the Registry in Truro, where we were married, with Mum and John as the witnesses. They took us to a good restaurant for a very small reception. This was something that we would keep very quiet, with the main memento being our certificate and the pictures that John had taken on my camera.

Marianne Gregory © 2026