Lily, the Head Beautician on the mobile beauty circuit, likes to make An Entry on her Saturday afternoon rounds.
What’s the beauty business without a little sizzle, a chauffeur (Steve), and a red
carpet bucket of oats?
They want the new beauty “It,” and they want it bad.
They may not be entirely sure what “It” is, but whatever It is, Lily always has It, and she rounds ’em up and heads ’em in towards It.
“Don’t mention this,” the big one with the white face confided later, “but I like how Lily’s new Stickerettes keep my hair out of my eyes: it allows my admirers to soak in the beauty of my enhanced eyelashes. They’re natural, you know. Last season, Lily was all about enhanced natural beauty, but now it’s Stickerettes, 24/7. That’s the fickle nature of the beauty business, I suppose. Hems go up, hems go down, hems go out and shake it all around.”
(Black Clydesdales are very poetic.)
“This whole Stickerettes business was so NOT Lily’s idea. I spend one week in a Jamaican all-inclusive, come home all tall and tanned and big and lovely with one simple string of sticker beads in my mane as a memento of my trip, and the whole stinkin’ Valley goes Lady GaGa over hair accessories!”
Sheesh. Lily is such an opportunistic idea thief. Of course, anyone who can afford a chauffeur is naturally all over The Big Business Plan that venture capitalists just jump on.
Come on… give creative credit where creative credit is due.”
Bless their hearts.
They’re such simple, simple things, artistically speaking.”
Bless their hearts.
Did I mention I have a chauffeur?”
See my status-busting set of bang sticker beads? Wanna know a secret?
Lily doesn’t have the sticker bead market cornered. I have my very own manufacturing plant that I’ve been fertilizing for months now, ever since Sistah Rastah came back from her vacation with her Big Bang fashion news.
I even have my own clientele I’m grooming in the fashion bidness.
That noisy punk across the street with the poodle perm? He’s already a complete sticker bead junky. He refuses to be seen in public without at least some sticker junk in his trunk.
I crack myself up. I really do.