foundation and concealer,’ Ness continued. ‘Just add a great smoky eye and nude lip and that’s all you need on the make-up front. Which just leaves you to pull together some resort-worthy looks from the clothes I’ve picked out for you to wear. I can fix the girly style thing. It’s a no-brainer.’
Ness was so good at styling herself that older girls often stopped her in the street to ask where she bought her clothes. She could make vintage look amazing. She also made stuff from scratch that looked totally couture and mixed it all up like a pro. The Olsen twins had nothing on Ness, who worked three jobs, two of which were fashion-related. Ness almost never needed to actually sell anything to anyone, because as soon as a customer clapped eyes on what Ness was wearing, they wanted it too.
‘Go on, Janes,’ said Em. ‘Saves you worrying about what to pack. Ness has clothes to burn. She’s not going to miss a suitcase full of stuff for a couple of weeks. Let her help.’
‘Yeah,’ Gabs agreed. ‘If I could fit into Ness’s stuff I’d be raiding her wardrobe every spare minute. You’ve never let her work her magic on you – just let her try. If you end up looking like a Roman urn or a flowerpot man, Em and I will let you know – have no fear.’
Janey found herself nodding. As the bell rang, the four girls agreed to meet up at Ness’s house after school.
‘I’ll bring the eats,’ Em volunteered, as she melted into the post-lunch corridor crowd with a wave.
Ness’s room was dominated by an awesome walk-in wardrobe filled to the colour-coded brim with clothes, handbags, accessories and shoes.
Vintage was mixed in with hand-me-down high-end stuff from Ness’s equally gorgeous mum, Lou Lou. One-off creations by Ness herself were rounded out with trash-fash cheapie buys that could be loved to death for one season, then thrown away. Her room was a fashionista’s paradise. The only thing was, Janey and Em weren’t fashionistas in the slightest, and Gabs had long ago acknowledged that she’d have to stop eating altogether to fit into any of Ness’s clothes. And she wasn’t about to do that .
‘I just love food too much,’ said Gabs, looking around the room longingly.
‘And so you should,’ Em replied. ‘Have a chip.’
Gabs and Janey helped themselves to Em’s stash of chilli-flavoured corn chips and sprawled across the end of Ness’s double bed. Fashion magazines littered almost every surface of the bedroom. Ness was also a cosmetics junkie. Lipstick and nail polish in every conceivable shade were lined up in neat rows across her French provincial-style dressing table.
‘Uh, bring it on,’ Janey said warily.
‘Oh no you don’t, Jane Gordon. You’re the house model for today, so get in there and try on outfit number one.’ Ness pointed a perfectly painted fingernail – Chanel Le Vernis in Vamp, naturally – at her overflowing, room-sized walk-in robe.
Janey mooched in. ‘I don’t even know where my head is supposed to go,’ she said a minute later, sounding muffled. ‘I think my earring’s caught. Help .’
Ness shot Em and Gabs an expressive eyebrow and marched in. A moment later, Janey emerged in a figure-skimming red-and-white striped halter-neck top over a pair of indigo jeans of the perfect degree of skinniness.
Gabs and Em gasped. The shade of red in the top shouldn’t have worked with Janey’s bright hair, but somehow it did.
‘You look fantastic !’ said Em. ‘You’ve got a shape at last!’
Janey looked sheepish. ‘I feel half-dressed. And I’m cold.’
‘It’s high summer over there, stupid,’ Ness replied. ‘I checked the weather channel. Now get in there and slide on look number two.’
Look number two was a vintage Diane von Furstenberg wrap dress in graphic black and white, with red platform wedges. Luckily, Ness’s feet were as huge as Janey’s.
‘You’ve got curves , Jane Gordon,’ Gabs crowed as Janey leant slinkily against the