This is not going to work. I should never have asked Aunt Eunice to be my stylist ... why had I been so desperate? I knew it was a mistake the minute she barged into my house today to deliver my book-launch outfit. "Wait 'til ya see this, darlin'!" she bragged as she opened a tattered suit bag. My eyes widened and my mouth dropped open as she held it out ever so proudly.
"Auntie, where did you get that?" I gasped.
"I made it of course, from leftovers of Betty White and Lady Ga-Ga's wardrobe."
"Leftovers ... you can say that again," I muttered.
"Here, try it on," Aunt Eunice said. "It took several hours to design this and then put it together."
There it was...a red hot velvet jogging suit, covered with purple, green, and yellow ostrich feathers, sprinkled all over with multi-colored rhinestones.
"How many hours did you say this took?" I asked as I rubbed the worn velvet between my fingers, then sneezed as a feather broke loose of the material and blew across my nose. "Ugh, Auntie, I've been thinking about going with a simple black dress, black leggings, and black boots."
Aunt Eunice looked shocked. "Do you realize that I was originally designing this for Nancy Reagan? Anyone in their right mind would die for this ensemble."
"You are right, Auntie," I answered softly. "So please, please, give it to Nancy. Her heart would break if she saw me wearing something especially designed for her."
Eunice smiled. "You are a real sport, Shaa-ren." She kissed me on the cheek, then out the door she flew ... to where, I don't know. Her schedule is way too hectic for me, but I'm sure she'll be volunteering to help me in some other sweet way before my book release.
Hmm, now that I think about it ... I need a publicist!