Free Catwalk by Deborah Gregory Page A

very handy. I just pulled her hair and kept her at arm’s length. Too bad a school monitor appeared out of nowhere and escorted us both to the principal’s office. Obviously, the principal was none too happy when she figured out that we were sisters. “You two should be ashamed of yourselves!” she hurled at us. I wasn’t, but Mom was. She said that I was selfish and didn’t even reprimand Chenille for borrowing my bag without asking me. Ever since then, I guess you could say my sister and I have been on a Rocky Road binge.
    “Well, so much for Ben and Jerry,” I muse out loud.
    “
Chérie
, she’s gonna vote for you,” Angora says.
    “She’d better do my hair—for free!” Aphro chortles.
    “If I were you, I’d spend my ducats on a
real
hairstylist,” I hiss back. The magic hour is upon us and I start packing up our toys so we can go home.
    Aphro senses my discomfort and throws a fur ball at my head. “I’m just gonna
weave
that one alone!”

FASHION INTERNATIONAL 35TH ANNUAL CATWALK COMPETITION BLOG
    New school rule: You don’t have to be ultranice, but don’t get tooooo catty, or your posting will be zapped by the Fashion Avengers!!
    TRUE PIRATES LOVE THE “BOOTY.” …
    Last night, thirteen Catwalk candidates plied us potential voters with stylin’ spiels and swag before we headed to the Fashion Annex to cast our ballots. The campaign antics may be over, but the drama quotient is about to quadruple seven times a Pucci scarf square once the election results are posted on Thursday! In the meantime, I feel compelled to break down last night’s booty (and I’m not referring to Shalimar in that skintight Silverado Express dress either, which made her look like she was having chipmunks in reverse!). After I chomped on Chintzy Colon’s chorizos, which were exactly how I like my fashion—
hot, hot, hot!
—I proceeded to angle for a pair of danglers from the candidate with the highest fabulosity factor, Chandelier Spinelli. Now, that’s when I couldn’t help but overhear
another
candidate complaining about the expenses incurred for her “She Shells.” If Chantez Whining, oops, Winan, wanted to make a
splash
, she should have been asking herself: “Is this bootylicious enough for ya, babe?” I was not born yesterday, so I can tell when someone’s freebies have been lifted from the dirty shores ofJones Beach—for free—thereby counteracting the whole inherent pleasure of receiving goodies and giveaways! Obviously certain candidates should keep a dictionary right by their Lee press-on nails so they can look up the definition for the word “swag” and start appreciating its acronym:
stuff we all get
(and deserve)!!
    9/23/2008 10:45:34 AM
    Posted by: Miss FLUFF

5
    The next day I sniff my underarms and detect the distinct smell of Swiss poodle. In one hour, the names of the five elected house leaders will be posted outside the Fashion Café. I’m bouncing off the walls worrying about the results, which is why I shimmied out early from physics so Felinez and I could rendezvous in the Fashion Lounge.
    “How come walking up and down the bathroom doesn’t make time go faster? Newton was a
fig
,” I complain nervously.
    Felinez is more concerned with fashion reality than the laws of motion. “What is that stain,
mija
?”
    She is pointing to the ashy white ring on my brown suede fringed moccasins. “I can’t believe it!” I shriek.
    “You stepped into water with alkaline properties,” Felinez says in her distressed Boricua accent.
    “Alka-what? The toilet in my house overflowed this morning!” I cry in disgust. “I
had
to sop up the water so I could take a shower. If I waited for Mr. Darius to come, we would have floated away in a tsunami!”
    Felinez knows firsthand the fringe benefits of living in a brokedown palace. “Really,
mija
, he is the worst landlord. You should report him,” she advises.
    “To whom?” I counter. “Note to fashion self: shower with sheep in my sleep