I had thought I was gifted with a blotch free face, But in the world of fashion and beauty, everything can be even more transcendent, my darling. Or so my raucous makeup team had corrected me. The unit, usually a three person crew, was short one due to the M.I.A. one retracting a hybrid virus. Originally designed in a lab when the Dark Days were amidst, the bacterium had suddenly made a reappearance in the Capitol. Whatever the case was, a man-made sickness or something else, I was satisfied with the fact that I had to socialize with one less image crazed stylist.
Then, I was mesmerized by the changing room/ material room. Every cloth: Leather, Acetate, Down, Cotton were draped over wall racks that flew to the abnormally high ceiling. It was like a library for fabrics. I recognized dyes my mother bartered with regularly and then some I never knew could spread so easily across a cloth. A sunny colored sllk was unwrapped off it's coil, alluring me towards it like a goddess' charm speak. The pads of fingers kissed the threads like it was gold. And it probably was worth something of the sorts.
The tributes, both Adalaide and I were pleasantly entangled in the room's appeal. Only to be towed back to reality with the voice of one of the two stylists.
"Now, I did do some research about fabrics. And I hope I am right when I say District 8 land's cloth is-"
"Cupro." we both harmonized with our beloved material. The Capitol's people traded some worthy valuable necessitates for it. Just because District 8 knew how to make it . And well. my mother's creations were mostly Cupro, and that's why she's known as a fashion legend by stylists. In fact, when I arrived at the Capitol, the first thing that occurred was a peck to the hand by multiple die-hard fans. I was dumbfounded. I hadn't even won the Games yet! I accepted the adoring gesture never-the-less.
The team member who spoke, a woman with a shaved head (but the amount of accessories made up for it ) squealed and brought out two clothing bags suspended on hangers.
"See, I told you, Ivo. Imagine if we went with your guess, Velvet. We would have made velvety tribute costumes and it would be all-" she reprimanded the buff designer by patting his cheek with each word. "your-fault!"
Adalaide took hold of her hidden costume and voiced for the first time since we had departured.
"I'm sure any fabric would do in the hands of stylists like you both. Ivo and...-"
"Cleome." the woman fluttered. Obviously flattered by Adalaide's smooth interjection. Which forewarned me to thank Adalaide about what she had done for my family.
Cleome ushered the concealed costume towards my hands and my anticipation caved inside itself. With a woosh, the ebony wrap unfitted itself from the District 8 themed attire.
Cupro layered kimonos were revealed to us in astonishment. It faded gorgeously from mauve violet, to a cardinal color at the shoulders. Mine opened up at the chest revealing pecs. A lavender Cupro rope was tied lazily at the waist. The stitching and fading was angelic. But the accessories Ivo and Cleome brought out, made it uniquely ours. A mini spinning wheel laid atop of our heads. Then false sewing pins were poked at us evenly throughout the kimono. Making it seem like we were sewing pillows, but really, there was a clip on the end to attach them. This optical illusion costume served District 8 honorably.
After the intensive makeup routine, a rehearsal of the chariots, and a pep talk here and there. We were ready to serve our District confidently. Leaving my safe haven of clothes upon clothes and proceeding into our rope clad chariot, I did a shake to detach my hair from my eyes. Then I realized it looked like a raging wave that never ended above my forehead. I never got the chance to ask Ivo what kind of bull shit witchcraft caused this hairstyle. But I knew I had unfinished business to discuss.
"I just wanted to thank you for saving Straw- my sister. It must of been a maddening decision."
She just looked at me. Looked at me as though I was the horse to this chariot that was too colossal to be standing on it. She scoffed an unreadable scoff before replying right when the ceremonial drums began.
"It's not like I had a choice."