Beads, Boys and Bangles Read Free

both went, ‘Ooh, The Sunday Times ? Yes please!’ Which is why all four of us are perched on black swivel chairs, sipping tap water, while we answer questions about ourselves and our ‘amazing fashion moments’.
    This is going to be a challenge. Crow’s life is a fashion moment. She’s sitting here in sky-blue satin dungarees, a purple tie-dye tee-shirt, platform flip-flops and a raspberry-pink plastic anorak she picked up from a charity shop in the summer. Her hair is her usual oversize Afro, which means she can fit three mini paper lanterns on it, in a collection near her left ear.
    Whereas, apart from her tee-shirt, Edie wouldn’t know a fashion moment if it hit her over the head with a stiletto. This is the girl who wore beige culottes to school last summer. Luckily, she’s sitting next to Jenny, who’s been on a fashion rollercoaster. Jenny’s been the one all the fashion editors make fun of in the ‘what not to wear’ pages, and the girl who gets to choose a Chanel dress for the red carpet, so maybe she and Sam can chat about all of that.
    What Sam will make of me, I can’t imagine. I don’t really care what’s in fashion, although I can’t help knowing every designer’s latest look. I just love finding unusual stuff, and the daily challenge of coming up with something new and original and just this side of ‘go home and change, young lady’. Today, for example, it’s crushed velvet leggings, a vintage ra-ra skirt, an oldschool blazer (not my school) and a fedora. My fashion nightmare is walking into a room and finding someone else dressed exactly like me. It’s probably Edie’s dream, come to think of it. She’d be great in a job with a uniform, like a policewoman or something. I’d go insane.
    ‘Crow,’ Sam says, kicking things off while we fiddle nervously with various bits of our outfits. ‘Tell me how it all began. Take Edie, for example. How did she come into your life?’
    Crow looks up and grins her broadest grin. As always when Crow smiles, the room suddenly lights up, as if someone’s opened a curtain.
    ‘Like an angel,’ she says, quietly. There’s a pause. Sam waits for more, but Crow seems to think she’s covered it.
    Jenny decides to fill in the details. ‘Crow needed help with reading practice. Edie volunteered.’
    But Sam isn’t looking at Jenny, or Edie. She’s still watching Crow.
    ‘She saw me,’ Crow says eventually, looking down at her lap, trying to explain. ‘Lots of people didn’t. See me, I mean. Not good people, anyway. Until Edie came. Oh, and she found Henry.’ She sits on her hands at this point and clams up completely. But Sam’s scribbling as if she’s just dictated a novel.
    The room’s gone fuzzy and I realise my eyes are welling up. So are Jenny’s. Sometimes you need a Sunday Times journalist to remind you how great your friends are. And when it comes to noticing people, and helpingthem, Edie can be super-amazing, despite the whole beige culottes thing.
    I sneak a look at her. She’s white as a sheet and biting her lip. This is turning into an emotional day for her. We all sort of assumed that Crow just took us for granted really, which was fine. She never said anything. But then, we never asked.
    ‘And how about Jenny?’
    Crow thinks for a minute. ‘Jenny’s my favourite girl to dress,’ she says with another grin. Again, this is news to the rest of us. We thought Crow just made dresses for Jenny out of friendship. But she makes it sound like it’s a real treat.
    ‘She has a beautiful shape,’ Crow continues. ‘Perfect for couture. And I love her skin. It always glows against the right fabric. And her hair. Look! Ten different colours.’
    So are Jenny’s cheeks, right now. Her hair may be copper/auburn/whatever, but her cheeks are red, red, red. She’s grinning fit to bust, though. She can’t help herself.
    ‘I didn’t know dresses even existed to fit me before Crow came along,’ she bubbles happily. ‘I spent most of my