To All My Fans, With Love, From Sylvie. Ellen Conford
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Название: To All My Fans, With Love, From Sylvie

Автор: Ellen Conford

Издательство: Ingram

Жанр: Учебная литература

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isbn: 9781939601087

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СКАЧАТЬ to carry it myself. The social worker took the suitcase in one hand and held me with the other as we went out to her car. I took the suitcase with me when I left the Framers’ for the O’Connors’. That time, the social worker didn’t carry it for me. She didn’t hold my hand, either.

      Now I knew I had to take only the most absolutely necessary things with me, but since I didn’t have that many clothes anyway, it wasn’t a big deal deciding what to pack. I was going to take only the clothes that made me look eighteen, and my cosmetics, of course, but they would go in my hatbox.

      That hatbox was one of the very few things I’d bought for myself out of my savings. It was beautiful, ivory-colored simulated leather, and even though it cost $14.99 on sale, I knew I had to have it. I’m very realistic and practical, and I knew it might take me a while after I got to Hollywood to get my first break in the movies, so I figured I would do some modeling until I was discovered. A lot of movie stars start that way, and models make sometimes $35 to $50 an hour. And all the models go from job to job with their stuff in a hatbox, just like mine. It’s a model’s trademark, her hatbox, and if I had one, they’d know I was a professional just by looking at me.

      The only things I regretted leaving behind were my movie magazines. I’d read them already, of course, and they were all cut up where I had clipped out pictures of my favorite stars, but I still liked to go back and look at them and read the articles about how the stars live.

      They’re very helpful, some of those articles. I’ve learned everything I know about how to be a star from movie magazines. That’s why I look so much older than fifteen, and why I’m more sophisticated than other girls my age. Every month at least one of the magazines has an article on “Makeup Tips from the Stars,” and I practically study those articles.

      So I looked at the pile of magazines on the floor of my closet and sighed. First, I thought I might just take the ones with stories about James Dean and Natalie Wood. She’s my ideal. We have practically identical eyebrows. The first thing I’m going to buy when I get my break in the movies is a gold slave bracelet, like she has. She’s always photographed with that slave bracelet on. It’s sort of her trademark.

      We’re a lot alike in other ways, besides just having the same eyebrows. She’s only a couple of years older than me, but she’s also very mature for her age, and very sophisticated. She says her biggest problem is that she smokes too much. I don’t smoke yet, but I guess I’m going to have to start pretty soon.

      Anyway, I started going through the pile of magazines, and realized that almost every one of them had a story on James Dean and a lot of them had articles on Natalie Wood. That’s why I’d bought them in the first place. So I gave up on the idea of taking any of them, and just put my scrapbook on the bottom of the suitcase.

      All the best pictures were in there anyway. Lots of James Dean, all the ones of Natalie, plus Tab Hunter, Rock Hudson, Elvis, William Holden, etc. Besides, I told myself, once I started being in the movies I’d have plenty of money to buy all the magazines I wanted. I’d probably even be in some of them!

      I packed my underwear and shoes on top of the scrapbook. I didn’t have any tissue paper, which was too bad, because in this article on “How to Pack for Traveling” by Joan Crawford, she said tissue paper is an absolute must for keeping things from wrinkling and for wrapping shoes in. I only had two pairs of shoes that I was going to pack and one that I was going to wear, so I went downstairs to the kitchen and got some wax paper to wrap them in.

      I unplugged Aunt Grace’s white plastic radio that she-keeps on the kitchen counter and took it upstairs with me so I could have some music while I worked. Another thing I wanted more than anything in the world was my own portable radio, but I just couldn’t afford to spend $19.95 on a luxury like that. When I was famous I would have a radio in every room. The Photoplay story about me would explain, “So she can have music wherever she goes.” Maybe that could be my trademark.

      I plugged the radio in next to my bed and finished packing my suitcase.

      Elvis was singing “Blue Suede Shoes” when I started packing the hatbox. I sort of bounced around the room, picking up my stuff, opening drawers, singing the words along with him. I knew them by heart, of course.

      I had to take all my cosmetics and makeup with me. Those were the only other things besides magazines that I spent money on, but I knew they were worth it. The right makeup can transform a merely pretty girl into a true beauty, and there are lots of merely pretty girls who think they can get into the movies. I would be competing with them for my big break, and like I said, I’m realistic enough to know I have to be as beautiful as possible to make it in Hollywood.

      But I also planned to live out of that hatbox on my trip to California, so I had to get some underwear and a pair of shortie pajamas and a change of clothes in there too. I couldn’t keep opening and closing the big suitcase every time I needed something. With all those bottles and jars and compacts and things, I was a little worried about stuff breaking, but I wrapped some of the breakables in my thick white crew socks and hoped for the best.

      I glanced at the clock on my night table. It was noon already! Aunt Grace and Uncle Ted would be back in fifteen minutes. I looked around the little room trying to see if I had forgotten anything.

      I pulled the desk chair over to the closet and hauled the big suitcase up to the top shelf. I nearly broke my arms trying to wedge it back on the shelf where it belonged, but I got it. I pushed the chair back under the desk and stuck the hatbox all the way over to one side of the closet behind my crinolines, where you couldn’t see it when you opened the door.

      The crinolines were another problem, but I had solved that very cleverly, I thought. I absolutely had to take them with me, because I needed them to wear under my best dress, which was a pink Teena Paige with a square neck and a beautiful full skirt. Naturally I had to take that, for interviews and dates and things, and naturally I couldn’t wear it without three crinolines underneath it so the skirt would stand out right.

      So I decided to wear it on my trip, then I wouldn’t have to worry about fitting the crinolines in my suitcase because I’d be wearing them under the dress.

      I had everything figured out perfectly.

      I heard the sound of the Chevrolet in the driveway. Four doors slammed and one of the twins yelled, “Sylvie, Sylvie, we’re home!”

      So soon! I snapped the radio off and jumped into bed. I pulled the covers over me.

      They were ten minutes early. It’s a good thing I hadn’t stopped to take a shower.

      “Sylvie?” It was Uncle Ted. I could hear his footsteps coming up the stairs.

      “Sylvie, how are you feeling? It’s barbecue time!”

      With no one in the house, I’d forgotten to shut the door. I turned toward the wall and pretended to be asleep.

       Chapter 2

      “Sylvie! Sylvie! Daddy’s going to barbecue!”

      Honey and Bunny, the twins, came barreling into the room right behind Uncle Ted. One of them jumped on my bed. I turned over slowly, pretending I was just waking up.

      “Get off the bed, Honey,” Uncle Ted said irritably. “You might catch what Sylvie’s got.”

      “What’ve you got, Sylvie?” Honey bounced on my bed until Uncle Ted grabbed СКАЧАТЬ