Star Crazy Me Read Free

suddenly lunged at a nearby rack and thrust something at me.
    â€œCombats,” said Indy. “That’s cool!”
    Somewhat nervously – I am always nervous when it comes to clothes – I said, “D’you really think so?”
    â€œAre you daring to question me?” said Josh.
    â€œNo!” I backed down, hastily.
    â€œSo take them! Try them.”
    â€œWhat about a top?” said Indy.
    â€œI’m coming to that,” said Josh. “Don’t rush me!”
    Indy and I exchanged glances. Talk about a prima donna! Humbly, we trailed round after him.
    â€œHere! Try this.” He picked up a T-shirt and handed it to me.
    â€œOoh, designer!” said Indy.
    â€œIt’s just a T-shirt,” said Josh.
    But it wasn’t! I looked at the price tag and nearly died. All that , for a T-shirt? Josh said, “Quality does not come cheap.” Then he gave me a little push in thedirection of the changing room and said, “Well, go on, go and try them on!”
    â€œAnd then come out and show us,” said Indy.
    I never enjoy trying on clothes. Whatever I buy, it’s always the same: I look in the mirror and there’s this great galumphing hippopotamus staring back at me. I couldn’t see that combats and a T-shirt, no matter if the T-shirt did cost the earth, were likely to work any miracles. But oh, they did! The T-shirt didn’t just flump about in big billowing folds, the same as T-shirts usually do. It actually fitted. Properly . It was red, with a skull and crossbones motif on the front. I loved it! It almost made me look thin. Well, thinn ish .
    The combats, which were half the price of the T-shirt, were olive green, and wonder of wonders, I managed to get into them without any straining or heaving or sucking in of my tummy. I went prancing out of the changing room with this big, triumphant grin on my face.
    Indy took one look and squealed, “Rock chick!”
    â€œSee?” Josh gave a little bow. “Apology graciously accepted.”
    â€œSo what’s she going to wear with it?” said Indy.
    I said, “Yes! What am I going to wear with it?” The T-shirt by itself had eaten up a large chunk of Mum’s money. Josh said not to panic. “You don’t really need anything else.”
    â€œWhat about shoes?” said Indy.
    â€œTrainers,” said Josh.
    â€œWhat about jewellery?”
    Josh said so long as it wasn’t clunky.
    â€œLet’s go and look!” Indy went dancing off up the store, to where they had a stand full of beads and bangles. “Look, look, what about this?” She came dancing back, dangling a long silver chain with a pendant. “This would go! Wouldn’t it?”
    She was ever so happy when Josh agreed. It made her a bit bold. Eagerly she suggested that maybe I could buy some “dangly earrings” and “sparkly bits to put in my hair”. Josh said, “Knock it off, she’s a rock chick,not a Christmas tree!” Indy’s face fell. “Maybe something for her hair,” said Josh.
    â€œAnd nail varnish?” begged Indy. “She could have nail varnish!”
    Josh said he would allow me to have nail varnish, and he even let Indy pick the colour: deep, dark purple.
    â€œDon’t ask me what I’d like,” I said.
    â€œGot no intention,” said Josh. “ I’m your fashion guru.”
    â€œAnd I’m his assistant,” giggled Indy. It was really going to her head! But I didn’t mind; I know I have no clothes sense. They didn’t even let me choose the sparkly bits for my hair. Personally I rather fancied a pair of glittery butterflies, but Indy sucked in her breath and Josh, very sternly, said, “Carm, put them back.”
    â€œBut they’re pretty!”
    â€œThey’re tacky.”
    â€œTacky, tacky, tacky!” sang Indy. Like she knows any better than I do. “Look, stars! How about