Grace Lo Porto is the winner of our first Fashion Fiction contest! Grace will recieve a $50 gift card to Barnes & Noble and a tote with fun goodies as her prize. I'd like to thank all of the writers who submitted their work to the Creative Cookie--we received writing from all over the World reflecting imagaination, fashion, and fun! I also have to express grattitude to our fab panel of readers who had the difficult task of judging--Amy, Blane, Beth, Brett, Cleo, Zaneta, Jamashia, kamau, & Selena--THANK YOU! Grace's story & 9 other were selected by the judges, to be included in the newest issue of Easily inspired which is now avaliable!! Click here for more details & info on ordering a copy.
...I'm so happy to present Grace's winning piece, For the Love of Pants, ENJOY:
FOR THE LOVE OF PANTS
I love opening up my closet and just looking. There’s the boots I bought in Greece—a little scuffed, but I think it just makes ‘em more sophisticated. Poofy things that George got me; he may have been a bozo, but he did have excellent taste. A sweater from Paris, that time I was broke and could afford either the sweater or a taxi; I bought it and walked the five miles. Thank God I got the gig. Sweats buried in the back so they don’t mess up the ambiance. A silk jacket, leather belts, sparkly stole, everything a woman needs. Except…something’s missing.
Pants. I’m missing my precious pants. They’ve been gone since…since I unpacked from my last acting gig. And I know I put them in the bag. But there was that time, in the taxi, when I blanked out for a bit...and there was that odd smell, almost like gas...
What does one do when one is missing pants? I could call the police and file a missing person’s report: “Name: Verdona Pants Age: 3 ½ years Last known location: Gershwin Theater.” I don’t think they’d appreciate it, however. And I simply can’t just report them as stolen; that would cheapen them, make them a, a thing. And they’re so much more than that.
I decide I’ll put up wanted posters. So I hitch a ride with Jeremy (oh so cute, but not my type), and I put up signs in all the likeliest locations—a plea for my pants’ safe return, the promise of a reward, no questions asked. And at the bottom, I put a little line appealing to the pants themselves.
When I get home, I’m not sure what to do. “Make yourself a nice cup of tea,” murmur my boots. “Call Becky over for a nice chat,” says the sweater. The belts murmur agreement; never an original thought in their heads, those belts. But I simply can’t muster the energy to call Becky, so I decide to play a game of solitaire.
I’m losing handily when there’s a knock at the door. I open it, hardly daring to hope—and there they are, my pants. But oh, they’re ripped and torn, and they heave a great big sigh as they collapse into my arms. “Verdona,” I say softly. “I’m so glad to have you back.”
“It was terrible,” they sigh. “They stuck me in the bottom of a suitcase; it took me ages to get away. They wanted me to help this girl make it big, accentuate all her curves, give her the right moves. But I missed you so much; nobody else moves like you. I could never walk with anyone else.”
I smile. Whoever thought I’d inspire loyalty in pants?
So I bring Verdona back in; the boots hop on over and give the pair a once-over, wincing at the rips and tears. I don't mind them though; they can be mended. But oh, if I’d lost Verdona, I would have been desolate. Just desolate.
“How about we celebrate at the club,” I say. I take off my sweats, pull Verdona on, slip on the sweater, step into the boots. “Ready when you are,” say my pants. “It’s good to be back.”
I smile, put my shoulders back, flex my toes, and open the door to the big, wide world. “All right everybody,” I say, “let’s dance.”
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The author, Grace M. Lo Porto, works as a tutor sometimes, writes sometimes, and spends a lot of time trying to figure out what to do with her life. She has also invented some things, but hasn't made any money off of them yet. In addition to writing odd fiction, she also writes poetry. She has a large family, as well as a cat. Grace lives in Delware.
