Lou Milner - Mandy's Allegorical Quest for Life a la Mode

Mandy's Allegorical Quest
for Life à la Mode

by Lou Milner

Mandy came from a family of nine children. She wished there had been only eight, and she not among them. How Mandy longed to be an only child. Alas, too late.

With such a collection of siblings - their names Shoddy, Tawdry, Rumples, Blandford, Vapid, Clash, Dullsa, and Tedious - you'd think Mandy would at least have gathered some clothes sense from the line, but no. Her family was so devoid of fashion smarts they could have been Hutterites. And, as none of them had a flare for style, how could Mandy possibly have known that she herself was lacking?

You might be thinking that at least she had a decent name compared to the rest, but I ask you, what has a name to do with vogue?

This is not to say that Mandy showed up for work at Beasty Cheaply Sharp Dollikins & Frye wearing a neckerchief, bonnet, and apron. She did not. Instead, her regular attire consisted of brown knee-length acrylic skirt, off-white polyester sleeveless see-through blouse, beige cardigan, and sensible shoes-or similar. Mandy had three completely similar outfits, each of which was rotated and laundered every second weekend and had been laundered every second weekend for approximately five years, three months, and 31 days.

Mandy's wardrobe was now faded, worn, scuffed, and pilled. The skirt was too tight in the buttocks and the top button had long since popped off, never to be replaced; ditto the sweater's bottom button.

One day, knowing it was Mandy's thirtieth birthday, her bosses Cheaply and Sharp quite naturally wanted to take her out for Shavout (a festival held in May or June commemorating the Law of God being given to Moses on Mount Sinai) but were so distressed by Mandy's apparel and the prospect of shame, embarrassment, and ridicule that would no doubt await them at the Liar's Den, they enlisted Dollikins to take her instead. Dollikins, though a lawyer, was nonetheless a relatively sincere woman and a truly brilliant dresser. She informed Cheaply and Sharp that she would happily take Mandy for lunch but she had no intention of waiting till May, as all the good tables would by then be taken. Cheaply and Sharp congratulated themselves on choosing such a practical partner.

Dollikins and Mandy took a cab to the Den. En route, Dollikins freshened her lipstick, straightened her stockings, and poofed her hair till it was good and poofy. Mandy was somewhat taken aback. She always thought Dollikins' hair was naturally poofy and said as much to her superior: "Wow, I always thought you had naturally poofy hair." Dollikins laughed, "Come on, no one my age still has naturally poofy hair." Mandy, felt a little foolish for being such a fool, but she laughed along with Dollikins anyway.

Boss and Slave were now quite comfortable with each other, and by the time they'd been seated at the best table in the house - the one farthest from the nearest door and closest to the little boys' room - they had no trouble falling into a relaxed conversation.

"So, how come you dress like such a goober?" Dollikins asked Mandy.

"Goober?"

"Yeah, you know, like yesterday's news, 'Sale at Zellers - one day only.' Hello!"

"Well, do I?" asked Mandy, all the while thinking "goober" was rather a dated word.

"Oh yeah. Absolutely," said Dollikins. "Got a boyfriend?"

"No."

"I'm not surprised. You're so mousy, Mandy," said Dollikins.

"Gosh, no one's ever told me that before," squeaked Mandy.

"Yeah, well, that's the way I am. When I like somebody, I let them know," said Dollikins to Mandy.

"Dollikins, can I ask you something?" asked Mandy.

"Yes."

"Do you think I should get my hair poofed?"

"Absolutely! And I think you should go shopping for some new clothes, too," said Dollikins. "In fact, I think I should come with you and show you how it's done."

"Would you?" asked Mandy, truly astounded, yet not really pleased.

"Wood eye?" said Dollikins.

"Peg leg," countered Mandy without missing a beat.

This, thought Dollikins, with no small amount of satisfaction, is why we hired her. Dollikins smiled warmly at Mandy, "Shall we order?"

Mandy nodded.

"Waiter," said Dollikins, signaling to the waiter (just like in the movies), "We'll have the house special - tea and toast with a side of noodles."

Mandy, eager for approval, jumped in with, "Make that two."

"Sorry, no special today," said the waiter. "Why don't you order something off the menu?"

"What would you recommend?" shot back Dollikins, trying to conceal her disappointment.

"For you, piggy in a blanket," he said to Dollikins before turning to Mandy, "and for you, Beauty, how about a little quiche?"

"Fresh." said Mandy, ever so coyly.

"Absolutely, Pretty Lady, what'd'ya think? German?" the sleazy waiter retorted flirtatiously.

"I didn't say French, I said fresh," said Mandy, as seductively as she knew how.

"Yeah? Well I didn't say kiss, I said quiche," snarked the waiter.

It was Mandy's turn to be disappointed. Mere seconds ago, there was a gorgeous guy flirting with her, coming on to her, hitting on her. Now he was snarking at her. Where, oh where, had she gone wrong?

To prevent the reader from crying, the author thinks this would be an excellent time to step in. Before offering her usual sage advice, however, the author would like to state - for the record (naturally) - that the waiter wasn't good enough for Mandy, and it's just as well she found out when she did before they got married and had kids.

Anyway, after their from-the-menu - two piggys in a blanky with ice cream on the side - celebratory lunch, Mandy and Dollikins taxied to Ups 'n Downs, a tops-and-bottoms place for the discriminating upwardly mobile shopper (aka people with more cents than sense). One glance at the prices told Mandy she was out of her depth (aka price range). Fortunately, Dollikins was unable to find the perfect ensemble for Mandy anyway, so the price question was moot. And, as Dollikins confided to Mandy once outside, the assistants were snooty and overdressed for their positions. Mandy naturally was relieved to be far from the moneyed crowd, but her relief was short lived. The next store, coincidentally called The Store Next Door, was even more expensive. But at least, as Dollikins observed, the clerks were helpful and appropriately attired.

What, Mandy meekly enquired, would be the appropriate attire for herself, a legal assistant at a mid-size, uptown firm? Dollikins, who, had she been asked, would have used poofier descriptors to describe her firm, suggested black, grey, and navy, skirts, dresses, and slacks, accented with bold purple, red, and royal blouses, sweaters, and scarves. This, she said, would say, "I'm conservative, yet strong; strong, yet efficient; efficient, yet daring; daring, yet conservative…"

Mandy responded that if she bought the recommended clothes, she would also be poor, yet broke; broke, yet penniless; penniless, yet poverty-stricken; poverty-stricken, yet all the poorer for it. Dollikins laughed and laughed and laughed, then stupidly asked how much Mandy made in a month. Dollikins, upon hearing the sum, was amazed, nay, appalled, to learn it was such a paltry figure. "That is unacceptable! Buy these clothes on credit, wear them tomorrow, and we shall see if you don't get an increase."

Well, the next day, Mandy did as instructed. She showed up in tall, black leather boots, black wool skirt, red silk blouse, and Hermes scarf. She looked like she'd spent all the money she didn't have on clothes and still could not afford a haircut. Dollikins rushed Mandy to a salon and had her hair bobbed and highlighted. By four o'clock two days later, Mandy looked like a completely remodeled woman. And although Beastly and Cheaply, and even Sharp & Frye, were mightily impressed with the transformation, they reasoned that anyone who could afford to look like that didn't need a raise.

Although Mandy did not get a salary increase, her self-confidence, thanks to Dollikins, was elevated to such a heady height that she eventually followed in the high-heels of Dollikins and became a lawyer - and later, a judge. The irony here is that she ended up in a job wearing dreary robes and occasionally bad wigs. Still, the point remains, if it weren't for Dollikins making Mandy a mannequin, she might still be moiling under the likes of Beastly, Cheaply and perhaps even Sharp & Frye, as well. Instead, she had a good-paying job, power, respect, and more sleazy waiters trying to shower her in ice cream than she could stake a shick at.

The author apologizes to any liars who think they may be misrepresented in this text and invites them to contact her personally with offers of wealth.