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I was at Sarah Granville’s party Friday night. Imagine me, unimaginative math dweeb girl invited to the head cheerleader’s party. I mean, I know I got her out of a jam when her parents hired me to tutor her for midterms, but that’s just business. I said, “Me? Are you serious?” “Yeah,” she said, “You’re cool.” Woah! If the heavens had opened up and shone the light of God on me at that very moment, I wouldn’t have been more shocked! I had just been anointed by the goddess of glam herself! OMG, the “cool factor,” a one-way pass to easy street.

But then it hit me. Oh Gawd! What would I wear? I ransacked my entire closet for three hours. Nothing. There was not one shred of couture that would make me look any less than a complete dork – a dork in heels, mind you – but a dork none-the-less. My entire high school career was over. Desperate, I called the one person I knew who was equipped to bail me out. Theresa, my snooty distant cousin on my mother’s side. Swallowing all pride, I begged her to transform me into a goddess for just one night. In exchange, I’d pay for her manicures for 2 months – no small thing, considering she has a coronary over a hangnail. Well, not only does she promise to do guerilla warfare on my hair, she opens her closet, the Mecca of Fashionista couture! I’m in awe.....

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  • Written by: Joyce Storey

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