Chapter 8

It was nice to be outside and together again after the weekend. The pizza place was clean and smelt good, but the prices on the menu made my eyes water.

“I’ve never paid thirty pounds for a pizza before, or fifteen for a glass of wine!”

“This is Knightsbridge, love, with the most expensive shopping area in England across the road. We can afford this now, so order what you want and to hell with the cost.”

“I think I’ll like the salmon one, that’s a bit different to what we get in Braintree.”

“We’ll get one to share, and a couple of glasses of white. My shout, you can get the next time we’re in here.”

“We’re coming back, then.”

“If this is the price of pizza, just imagine a main meal in one of the restaurants around here.”

“How’s your cooking skill, love?”

“About as good as yours, I would think, having lived with a cookaholic mother.”

I had to say that the pizza was delicious, the wine as good as it gets, and we were treated like a pair of princesses. With where we were, it could be entirely possible that we could be royalty in disguise. We were on our last slices when one of the cameramen from last week came in. He smiled when he saw us and headed for our table.

“Harriette and Sally, darlings. How are you both? I see that you’ve already found the best pizza around. They do have good ones in the store, but then you have to sit with a load of toffs around you.”

I smiled.

“Why don’t you join us, Manuello? We’ve nearly finished, but we have enough room for another wine while you eat.”

“Thank you, sweet thing. It’s Manny to you. I feel that I know you two now, having seen you close-up through the lens. That was a wonderful shoot, and the client’s happy as well, so I hear.”

“I’m Harry to our friends, Manny. We’ve been out of town over the weekend, so haven’t heard much about what’s happening, other than we have a meeting with Mavis tomorrow morning.”

“It looks like we’ll be doing some supplementary pictures as soon as you’re able to travel. We’ll have my crew and just you and the other girls beside the sunny Med. It will be the late spring and summer range, with that campaign overlapping the one we shot. I’ve been told to set aside all of March for that, before it gets too hot there.”

“Sounds like fun. We’ll get told these things tomorrow, I hope. The pictures we saw on Friday looked good. Carol said that they’ll be photoshopped before publication. Do they usually alter our looks?”

“No, dear heart! They wouldn’t dare mess with you. That would be sacrilege! It’s usually different backgrounds and subtle differences in colour tones to highlight the outfits. Enough to pull the customers in, but not enough to make them say that what they see wasn’t what was in the picture.”

He was obviously a regular, as the waitress brought him a calzone and a glass of red wine. He gestured to us.

“Juliette, dear heart. This is Harriette and Sally. They’ll be the stars of a new campaign and, I guess, are now living in one of the apartments across the road. Could you open up an account for them, so they keep coming back and don’t get seduced by the pizza place across the lane.”

“Will do, Manny. If they spend as much as you do, I’ll be able to retire early. Before I reach my card from the King, at least.”

She came back with a polaroid camera and took a picture of the two of us.

“This goes behind the counter, so you’ll be recognised when you come in. Don’t tell me your favourites, they’ll become apparent after a while.”

We sat with Manny and talked while he devoured his pizza. It was good to be talking with someone who didn’t have a stake in our future, other than being behind a camera and doing what he did best. He had been starting out when Zoe was at her lowest and wasn’t keen to say anything bad until I told him that we had read the book. Then he spoke about things he had heard at the time.

It was an interesting talk, and one that was very educational about the pitfalls of too much self-pride and belief in what the reporters were writing about your fame in the womens’ magazines. To last as a top model, you have to treat it as a job, not a lifestyle. Sally paid our bill, and we were about to leave when Manny asked us if we had done the introductory tour yet.

“We’re going to call Jerry to take us around this afternoon.”

“Have you been around the whole place yet?”

“No, we did most of a day with Carol getting kitted out, mostly in one or two departments.”

“That doesn’t take in the concessions. Before you call him, change into a pair of top models, or else nobody will take you seriously. The only women in that place in jeans are known to have more gold than Midas. Someone new in jeans is just someone who had got lost, or a brash tourist looking to spend just enough to score a shopping bag with the name.”

“Got it, Manny. We’ll go and glam up. Thanks for the advice.”

“If I hadn’t told you, Jerry would have sent you back when he saw you. I just saved you a bit of time.”

We went back up to the apartment and stripped off. We lathered each other in the double shower, used our hands and fingers to a good result, lathered some more and then dried ourselves on the fluffy towels. We chose black underwear from what we had been given, added sheer black hose, and then looked at the racks to find dresses that screamed success and sex. Sally had one in a very dark red that barely covered her chest and stopped just past her crotch. I had a similar one in a midnight blue. There were four-inch heels that matched. She made me up and reattached the wig, and I rang Jerry while Sally was doing her own make-up. He told me that we should go along the walk until we got to a door, marked ‘No Entry’. He would be watching for us on the CCTV and would open it for us.

Before we left, we transferred some of the contents of our bigger bags into smaller ones that matched the dresses. Sally grinned.

“What a life! We were given all of this to look good for the client. There must have been years of experience that had Carol choosing our outfits. Your red hair stands out against the dark blue, and my blonde enhances the red. No wonder we did well in the shoot.”

We covered our loveliness with the faux fur coats and went back out across the road, getting admiring looks from the few that were braving the chill. As we approached the middle of the building, a door between two shops opened and Jerry stepped out and waved us to enter. It was warm inside and he told us to hang our coats on pegs, along with others.

“This is the security entrance and is manned around the clock. We use facial recognition, and the system has you both now registered. Whenever you come to the door, look at the camera and it will unlock for you. If you’re just passing, it will relock in ten seconds, so don’t hang around to come in.”

As we hung our coats, he grinned.

“Either you’re aware of the dress code here, or someone has filled you in. There’s a lot to see. Where you were before is just the stores’ own brand outlet and the areas where they sell some of the clothing found in the concessions here. There’s a lot more to show you and introduce you to. Carol will be along in a few minutes to escort you around.”

When Carol arrived, she smiled and gave us both hugs.

“Follow me, girls, there are a few concessions that will be happy to meet you. All their managers will be at the later meeting in the morning.”

We were led around the complex for close to three hours, and I realised that, although we had been given very good things last week, they weren’t the truly expensive items that were available here. We had been given Samsonite cases, which were durable and good for models on the go, but there was a Louis Vuitton store that had much more expensive cases. We were wearing Gucci and Prada, but not the Chanel or Dior that was also sold here. We were wearing Rolex, but not the Cartier or Patek Phillippe.

Everywhere we went, we were greeted warmly, many commenting on the strange feeling of looking at a younger Zoe and also that they thought the campaign would have a special zing because of my look in the pictures. We had an early dinner with Carol in the grill and were given cards for the beauty salon that we could see across from the apartment. Our first appointment was tomorrow at nine.

That evening, we pulled the curtains, lowered the lighting and sat in the lounge, cuddling on the sofa, with the TV on but not being watched. We went off to the bedroom and christened the bed. I padded out, naked, about eleven to turn the TV and the lights off and went back to bed.

We had the alarm set for six and sat in the kitchenette with some toast and hard-boiled eggs, and then shared the shower again, but without the hanky-panky. We walked into the salon at nine and were given a once-over. We arrived at the security door before ten and it unlocked for us. The guy on duty gave us a sheet of paper with the directions to find the right place. With the tour yesterday, we had a good idea of where to go.

When we arrived in the office, Mavis gave us hugs and led us into a meeting room. There were a few already there that we had met on the shoot, as well as a couple of the executives that we had met in the dining room when we had been kitted out. We were shown our seats near the guys from the shoot, and the meeting started.

Mavis took charge and outlined what was happening now and into the future. There had been a campaign running for some weeks, with gifts being the main aim, from lingerie and trinkets to food hampers and teddy bears. Ours was to start next Monday, with adverts in the top magazines. There was a big screen and Mavis pressed buttons on a controller to bring up the artwork. Somebody must have worked over the weekend to get the beautiful results. There was to be four, full-page adverts, one each from each of the sessions from the daywear to the ball gowns.

I thought that they were beautifully done. Each new issue had new sets of pictures, and she showed us the whole six months, which had everyone who was at the shoot featured. I had the feeling that I had been told about, as the dance scenes looked like we were really grooving to a band. There was one that took my breath away, and it was with the three of us in the library. We all looked like we were rich students, doing the work even though we could afford not to. I could see a theme. You may be rich, but this generation does things to advance the world.

We were given a sheet with the times and places where we would need to be between this week and to two weeks into January, when there would be another meeting to see how things were going and make any alterations to the plan. I noted that all of us girl models were listed to be part of a carolling group during the week before Christmas, with some professional singers. I would have to call Mum and tell her that I’ll only have a few days to visit, trying to get to Braintree on Christmas day, if I could, coming back after New Years Day.

When the meeting closed, I asked Mavis about this.

“Do you have a driving licence?”

“Yes”

“You can take one of the cars, as long as the roads are open.”

“Thank you. I’ll see what the weather looks like closer to the date. If we have to stay here, then we’ll be warm and cosy.”

“There’s something else that I want to talk about when the others have left, so hang around, please.”

“Will do.”

Sally and I went to the drink machine and got cups of coffee. We stood out of the way as the room cleared. Mavis then came to get a cup herself.

“We have another meeting in ten minutes. We’ll be joined by the managers of the fashion concessions to talk about another shoot. It will be overseas and somewhere warm.”

We talked about the pictures we had seen, and I asked if we could be emailed the ones that we were in. She took a note of my email address and told us that she would send all the pictures we were in that were worth looking at. The others started to arrive, including Carol, and she went to welcome them and get them seated. She sat us beside her and started the meeting.

“Good morning, everyone. I think that you’ve all met Harriette and Sally. By now, you should have all received the advertising for the spring campaign, which they had a good input into. We’re here to get some groundwork started on the summer campaign, which will be shot on the island of Majorca in March, with a launch date of late April and running through to the end of June.”

We listened as they spoke about the ranges that they intended to push, and sorted out problems with clashing colours and designs, so that the campaign looked harmonious. Gloria, the manager of one of the lines waited until things had slowed down before making a comment.

“I can see Harriette in the evening outfits but have a harder time seeing her in the casual outfits. Yes, she has that look of a late-teen member of a good family, but I don’t want to push her forward too much. It would dilute her appeal.”

Carol spoke up.

“Do you have any models that you think would be better suited?”

“There are a couple, but not inside my budget.”

She named them and Mavis looked on her laptop and brought up pictures of them. One was even more androgenous than Zoe, with a pageboy haircut, and the other was from South America, with darker skin, a buxom body, and lustrous black hair. Carol looked at us.

“What do you think, Sally?”

“One’s pretty easy but the other’s a problem with such a skin tone difference. If we went that way, it would take a couple of weeks to bring the lighter tone back. But doable.”

Mavis looked at me and raised one eyebrow. I nodded and she took the bull by the horns.

“Ladies, what I’m now going to tell you must be kept a secret for as long as we can. Harriette didn’t always look like she does now. I’m going to show you a picture of Harry, the real person under that hair and make-up.”

She pressed some keys on her laptop and the original picture of me that Janice took came on the screen, with a collective intake of breath and a few ‘never in the world’ heard.

“This is Harry Sharpe. As you can see, he has no hair at all. It’s total and hereditary. I would ask Harriette to remove the wig, but I won’t embarrass her by doing that. What I will do is this. We have this week before the magazines are on the stands. I was going to organise a media launch but will put that off to Friday or next Monday. If you supply Carol with the outfits that you wanted to push, Gloria, we’ll get Harriette to look like the first one and visit all of you at your concessions this afternoon. She won’t be exactly identical, but close enough to make the readers wonder. If you want, she’ll visit you again, on Wednesday morning, as the other model, but not as dark. We could get a good look with foundation that would be all right for a shoot, but easier to remove than skin dye.”

The meeting wound up, with most coming up to me for a closer look at me, especially my ears and nose, where everyone else had hair, with more as they got older. Carol went off to collect outfits in my size, as others wanted to see their lines worn by a model who could emulate a current supermodel. When it was just the three of us again, I found my voice.

“I trust you to make me look like those others, but how will that affect me in my Zoe impersonation?”

Mavis took one of my hands.

“We’ll have to let the media know that you’re able to copy most of the tall, slim, models in the business. We can get one of the photographers in to document you being transformed. It could start today, with you being taken from the Zoe look, back to the basic Harry, and then being turned into the other model. You’ll still be Harriette on the books, and we’ll need to know before we make any announcements if you can pull off the different person that Gloria wants.”

“That South American isn’t slim, not even close, and we would need a photographer that we can trust not to send pictures to the media.”

“We have the facilities to make you any shape we want. Thigh pads, big breasts, whatever.”

I looked at Sally, and she took my other hand.

“Harry, the first one is an easy change. A different outfit and shorter wig will do the trick. All you need to do is bring a different attitude. The second one will take longer. It’s up to you to agree to try it, and then we bank the pictures to recreate in March. I’m a bit worried about the dark foundation in a hot climate, but I’m sure one of the cosmetic companies has solved that problem.”

“Surely other famous models will get upset at a newbie copying them. Why don’t we research others who are out of the game or dead to copy? Why poke the bear when there are bones to sift through?”

Mavis thought for a while.

“You’re right. There are plenty from the old days who you can bring to life. Twiggy would be almost too easy except she was a bit shorter. We’ll give Gloria and the others a hint of what’s possible this afternoon, and I’ll send them a message that it was for demonstration purposes only. While lawsuits get column inches, the management would not be happy.”

Carol came back with a couple of outfits and was told of the new direction. We went and had lunch, and then she then took us to a private room in one of the salons, where I went in as Zoe and came out as someone else altogether, with shorter hair that felt very light. The outfit was very teen oriented, and I brought a preppy attitude with me when we went to see Gloria and the others. The change worked for them, so a similar look was agreed on for the shoot. In the meantime, I would remain as Zoe.

We went back to the salon, and I emerged again as Zoe, with a new wig. Carol would organise for the old one to be cleaned and delivered to the apartment so we could alternate. I was glad that I wasn’t padded out to do the other model. The transformation was documented by an amazed Manny, using a digital SLR, and now someone else in the loop.

We had some time, so we sat in Carols’ office and looked for likely examples of androgenous models. Manny was very helpful, and he told us that he had been fascinated by fashion photography at a very early age. He told us to look into the sixties, when androgyny was rife. In the end, we had six names that looked doable, and printed a couple of photos of each.

Twiggy was certainly a slim girl, almost stick-like, at about Sallys’ height, with usually a short, silvery look hairdo. Jean Shrimpton was almost exactly my height, with long brown hair, which ranged from light brown to dark brown. Veruschka was certainly commanding. A good six inches taller than me with long blonde hair that ranged between a straw to ash tint. Peggy Moffitt was within an inch of me, with short raven black hair and usually heavy eye make-up that made her stand out. Two others were eventually rejected for different reasons. Colleen Corby matched my height, but her fame was for looking like the schoolgirl next door, while Pattie Boyd was far too well known.

We made the decision to base any future persona on Jean Shrimpton and Peggy Moffitt and Carol took us to see Mavis. Manny showed her the pictures of me as I looked for the concession managers, and pictures of the two models that Sally and Carol knew that I could emulate with a minimum of trouble. She authorised Carol to get all the wigs and outfits that would work for these and arranged for Manny to run a photo shoot on Thursday. She instructed us to give her a couple of good pictures from each of the looks, as well as a couple with me as Harry, a male model, as well as a pop star like the one that Janice had sent.

“When we see the media, I’ve no doubt that they would have looked at the fact sheet that was sent to the magazines with the advertising copy. If they’ve got their heads screwed on, they would have already tried to get a background on you two, and it’s not impossible that they’ve found a record of Harry but not Harriette. We’ll put together a package of pictures of Harrys’ abilities. It’s possible that some wag will come up with a new name. It could be like ‘Chameleon’. If it’s catchy, we’ll take it on.”

Sally and I went back to the apartment, and I looked at the list of places that did deliveries, picked one and ordered dinner, giving the name and number of my credit card. We had another early night, as tomorrow was going to be busy. I say early; we were early to bed.

Next day, I did a light look with the make-up, as there would be several changes during the day. Carol was talking to the security man when we walked in and put our coats on pegs. She then took us to one of the cosmetic concessions deep inside the building.

“This is where we’ll work. They have a room in the back where we can do the changes and take the pictures. Manny will be here soon. We’ve used it for emergency make-overs before.”

In the room, there was a rack with several outfits, and a proper actors mirror behind a large vanity that had several wigs on heads. She sat me on the chair and proceeded to remove the wig and headcover that I had put on, just twenty minutes before.

“We’ll start with another picture of you in the raw, so to speak, so we’ll take those studs out of the ears as well. Strip to the waist and I’ll use some solvent to remove those breasts. You’ll be a bit bigger with the last pictures, and then we’ll bring you back to being Zoe.”

Marianne Gregory © 2026