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xp_logsAs agreed, Amanda and Adrienne meet up for after-work drinks and talk about many things, including the encounter with Garrison and Fashion Week.
"...And then he just hit the balcony! The thing just crumbled! Our smoker's porch!" Adrienne exclaimed to Amanda incredulously. "It was like... 'really darling? I know you feel it necessary to piss and moan and sulk, but violence towards the furniture? Is that really necessary?' All because he didn't like my swimsuit!" She sipped at her beer when she had stopped laughing.
Of course the entire incident with Garrison last week hadn't actually been that funny at the time- she'd even had a moment of panic about the violence he'd shown- but after a few drinks and easy conversation with Amanda, and with it being Fashion Week, Adrienne was finding humour in everything. It was amazing what a week of fashion could do to her mood. Unable to work at her company in so long, she hadn't been feeling like herself lately, had been feeling detached and melancholy. But Fashion Week had served to remind her about where she'd always found the most joy in her life. She'd found that joy again, and felt like a woman reborn.
"Seriously, what crawled up his arse and died?" Amanda replied, shaking her head in amused disbelief. "Please tell me you ripped him a new one for that bullshit."
Adrienne made a face. "I didn't. I wish now that I had, but I was a little... I don't know." Afraid. "I... guess I forgot myself for a moment. I went back to who I was... before." Before she'd come to the mansion. "I was afraid of him."
The witch frowned. "Well, considering he was being a pillock, I don't blame you, but seriously, someone needs to call him on this bollocks. It's one thing to be upset at being dumped without warning - it's another to go all crazy psycho ex over it." And Amanda should know, considering some of the low points of her relationship with Manuel, where he'd openly called her a whore. "You want me to bounce him around with New York a bit?"
"That sounds good to me," Adrienne joked with a smirk. "Nah, it's okay. I think I should handle it myself. It's just... it's still not easy for me to confront someone who's being crazy psycho ex, y'know? Don't get me wrong," she added quickly, "I'll do it, because I'm not letting myself just sit back and be... abused by anyone, even verbally. I never have. That's why I used to get hit in the first place, because I'm so damned confrontational. So I can confront him.
"I just don't like that I have to, y'know?" she added. "Part of me still keeps expecting him to just wake up one morning and be like he was. Rational. Easy to talk to. Someone who listened to me. But... I guess he can't listen to me if I don't make him?"
"A lot of stuff's happened since you left," said Amanda with a sort of helpless shrug. "And while it doesn't justify the whole smashing things over a swimsuit deal, he's not exactly Mr. Rational lately. But that doesn't mean he gets to walk all over you and treat you like shite either. You did wrong, but it doesn't mean you have to spend the rest of your life paying for it, either. Trust me on this one."
"Hey, hey now," Adrienne said, putting up a hand, suddenly wishing she was less drunk and in less of a great mood, since it was hard to get upset. "Cool it on that 'you did wrong' stuff. I didn't do anything 'wrong'. I did what I felt I had to do to keep everyone safe. Just because it's not what Garrison would have done, doesn't make it wrong. You even told me you'd done something similar yourself. So don't gimme that. But yeah, I trust you. I'm not paying for any of his bullshit. Stupid man. I'm just paying for... more beer!"
Amanda would have mentioned "buggering off willy nilly and getting a restraining order" wasn't exactly the right way of going about things and had hurt a lot of people, but she let it slide. "Any way, yeah. That. The point is, you explained why, you apologised for hurting him and you're trying to fix things. Doesn't mean he gets to be a pillock over which swimsuit you happen to be wearing." The witch signalled the bar tender for another round of drinks. "Change of subject, since the more I think about that whole thing, the more I want to hang him up by his pants on New York's highest flagpole. You Fashion Week'ed to your heart's content? Hobbed with the nobs and all that?"
Happy to let the subject of Stupid Garrison be put away, all Adrienne replied was "I hope you mean the British 'pants' and not the American," before beaming back at Amanda. "Oh darling, I could never get enough Fashion Week. My heart will never be content because I could always have more and more and more! There are always more nobs to hob with. Hey wait, ha ha ha, knobs. Some of the nobs are definitely knobs. Wait, is that old-person slang? Am I using old-person slang?"
"You're using British slang, 's acceptable." Amanda finished one beer just as the server brought the next round. "See, this is the thing I don't get, tho'. It's clothes. Things we wear so we don't get cold or wet or arrested for public nudity. What's the big deal about fashion?" She sipped from her beer and leaned her chin on her hand, attention fixed on Adrienne. "Explain it to me."
"Clothes are how we express ourselves to the world," Adrienne answered without pause, fingering one of her Laboutins under the table. "It's as simple as that. People sometimes can't express themselves with words, not with everyone, not all the time. You can't walk down a street telling every random person who you are. Only crazy people can do that. And yet, we all want people to know who we are, what we think of ourselves. Even people who don't actually know us." She chuckled and amended that."Especially people who don't know us. So the rest of us, we express ourselves through our clothing. It's how we say 'look, I'm sophisticated,' or 'I'm a rebel,' 'I'm smart,' 'I'm someone who doesn't care what you think.' Sometimes they say 'I'm just like everyone else.'"
She turned to Amanda and grinned. "Even you do it, for all you say you don't 'get' clothes. I only met your Uncle Pete once or twice, but I know clothes, darling. You're dressed like him. You admire him, and you express that through your clothes."
"I what?" Amanda looked down at herself, as if seeing for the first time the black suit and white shirt combination. "Huh. I hadn't noticed that. No wonder Angie's been making noises at me when I come out of a morning." She swirled her beer around in her glass, thinking of what Adrienne had said. "So, Fashion Week. What's that all about then? In terms of expressing yourself to the world?"
"Darling, if I have to explain it to you, I don't know if you're ever going to truly understand it," Adrienne said in a sympathetic tone. "Besides, I don't really know what it's about besides an excuse for all the designers to show off their newest stuff. But then again, I'm pretty drunk. Whatever it's all about, all that matters is it's wonderful, and amazing, and... fantabulous."
"Was it the same for you this year?" Amanda asked, curious. "I mean, those fashion people can be pretty stuck up. Were things different for you?"
Adrienne felt her good mood evaporate at Amanda's question. "Thanks, Deputy Downer. Yes, things are different. Despite what I may have stated on the journals, it seems I have lost my clout at Fashion Week. It's definitely apparent. Subtle, but apparent. However," she sipped at her beer, setting her jaw, "Adrienne Lucille Frost is not one to wallow. I have shoe designs I can sell if I want clout in the industry again. But I don't know if I want that anymore. I enjoy fashion, but...it's funny, I don't think I need the clout to keep enjoying it."
"Sorry, wasn't thinking." Amanda gave her friend an apologetic smile. "If it helps, I think you're going in the right direction? In my experience, people who want power? Tend to get twisted up by it."
"In my experience, I think you're right," Adrienne agreed with a laugh. "And I think I'm plenty twisted already. So being a teacher is all the power I need these days. I feel like I should finish that statement up with a maniacal laugh."
"Today a maniacal laugh, tomorrow a lot of whimpering after your first few classes," teased Amanda. "This year's bunch ought to keep you on your toes."
"They can't be any more difficult than managing a stable full of models," the brunette shrugged. "I live for these sorts of challenges, so there will be no whimpering from me. Unless you meant my maniacal laugh making the students whimper," she winked.
"We'll see," was Amanda's reply, followed by a smirk.
"...And then he just hit the balcony! The thing just crumbled! Our smoker's porch!" Adrienne exclaimed to Amanda incredulously. "It was like... 'really darling? I know you feel it necessary to piss and moan and sulk, but violence towards the furniture? Is that really necessary?' All because he didn't like my swimsuit!" She sipped at her beer when she had stopped laughing.
Of course the entire incident with Garrison last week hadn't actually been that funny at the time- she'd even had a moment of panic about the violence he'd shown- but after a few drinks and easy conversation with Amanda, and with it being Fashion Week, Adrienne was finding humour in everything. It was amazing what a week of fashion could do to her mood. Unable to work at her company in so long, she hadn't been feeling like herself lately, had been feeling detached and melancholy. But Fashion Week had served to remind her about where she'd always found the most joy in her life. She'd found that joy again, and felt like a woman reborn.
"Seriously, what crawled up his arse and died?" Amanda replied, shaking her head in amused disbelief. "Please tell me you ripped him a new one for that bullshit."
Adrienne made a face. "I didn't. I wish now that I had, but I was a little... I don't know." Afraid. "I... guess I forgot myself for a moment. I went back to who I was... before." Before she'd come to the mansion. "I was afraid of him."
The witch frowned. "Well, considering he was being a pillock, I don't blame you, but seriously, someone needs to call him on this bollocks. It's one thing to be upset at being dumped without warning - it's another to go all crazy psycho ex over it." And Amanda should know, considering some of the low points of her relationship with Manuel, where he'd openly called her a whore. "You want me to bounce him around with New York a bit?"
"That sounds good to me," Adrienne joked with a smirk. "Nah, it's okay. I think I should handle it myself. It's just... it's still not easy for me to confront someone who's being crazy psycho ex, y'know? Don't get me wrong," she added quickly, "I'll do it, because I'm not letting myself just sit back and be... abused by anyone, even verbally. I never have. That's why I used to get hit in the first place, because I'm so damned confrontational. So I can confront him.
"I just don't like that I have to, y'know?" she added. "Part of me still keeps expecting him to just wake up one morning and be like he was. Rational. Easy to talk to. Someone who listened to me. But... I guess he can't listen to me if I don't make him?"
"A lot of stuff's happened since you left," said Amanda with a sort of helpless shrug. "And while it doesn't justify the whole smashing things over a swimsuit deal, he's not exactly Mr. Rational lately. But that doesn't mean he gets to walk all over you and treat you like shite either. You did wrong, but it doesn't mean you have to spend the rest of your life paying for it, either. Trust me on this one."
"Hey, hey now," Adrienne said, putting up a hand, suddenly wishing she was less drunk and in less of a great mood, since it was hard to get upset. "Cool it on that 'you did wrong' stuff. I didn't do anything 'wrong'. I did what I felt I had to do to keep everyone safe. Just because it's not what Garrison would have done, doesn't make it wrong. You even told me you'd done something similar yourself. So don't gimme that. But yeah, I trust you. I'm not paying for any of his bullshit. Stupid man. I'm just paying for... more beer!"
Amanda would have mentioned "buggering off willy nilly and getting a restraining order" wasn't exactly the right way of going about things and had hurt a lot of people, but she let it slide. "Any way, yeah. That. The point is, you explained why, you apologised for hurting him and you're trying to fix things. Doesn't mean he gets to be a pillock over which swimsuit you happen to be wearing." The witch signalled the bar tender for another round of drinks. "Change of subject, since the more I think about that whole thing, the more I want to hang him up by his pants on New York's highest flagpole. You Fashion Week'ed to your heart's content? Hobbed with the nobs and all that?"
Happy to let the subject of Stupid Garrison be put away, all Adrienne replied was "I hope you mean the British 'pants' and not the American," before beaming back at Amanda. "Oh darling, I could never get enough Fashion Week. My heart will never be content because I could always have more and more and more! There are always more nobs to hob with. Hey wait, ha ha ha, knobs. Some of the nobs are definitely knobs. Wait, is that old-person slang? Am I using old-person slang?"
"You're using British slang, 's acceptable." Amanda finished one beer just as the server brought the next round. "See, this is the thing I don't get, tho'. It's clothes. Things we wear so we don't get cold or wet or arrested for public nudity. What's the big deal about fashion?" She sipped from her beer and leaned her chin on her hand, attention fixed on Adrienne. "Explain it to me."
"Clothes are how we express ourselves to the world," Adrienne answered without pause, fingering one of her Laboutins under the table. "It's as simple as that. People sometimes can't express themselves with words, not with everyone, not all the time. You can't walk down a street telling every random person who you are. Only crazy people can do that. And yet, we all want people to know who we are, what we think of ourselves. Even people who don't actually know us." She chuckled and amended that."Especially people who don't know us. So the rest of us, we express ourselves through our clothing. It's how we say 'look, I'm sophisticated,' or 'I'm a rebel,' 'I'm smart,' 'I'm someone who doesn't care what you think.' Sometimes they say 'I'm just like everyone else.'"
She turned to Amanda and grinned. "Even you do it, for all you say you don't 'get' clothes. I only met your Uncle Pete once or twice, but I know clothes, darling. You're dressed like him. You admire him, and you express that through your clothes."
"I what?" Amanda looked down at herself, as if seeing for the first time the black suit and white shirt combination. "Huh. I hadn't noticed that. No wonder Angie's been making noises at me when I come out of a morning." She swirled her beer around in her glass, thinking of what Adrienne had said. "So, Fashion Week. What's that all about then? In terms of expressing yourself to the world?"
"Darling, if I have to explain it to you, I don't know if you're ever going to truly understand it," Adrienne said in a sympathetic tone. "Besides, I don't really know what it's about besides an excuse for all the designers to show off their newest stuff. But then again, I'm pretty drunk. Whatever it's all about, all that matters is it's wonderful, and amazing, and... fantabulous."
"Was it the same for you this year?" Amanda asked, curious. "I mean, those fashion people can be pretty stuck up. Were things different for you?"
Adrienne felt her good mood evaporate at Amanda's question. "Thanks, Deputy Downer. Yes, things are different. Despite what I may have stated on the journals, it seems I have lost my clout at Fashion Week. It's definitely apparent. Subtle, but apparent. However," she sipped at her beer, setting her jaw, "Adrienne Lucille Frost is not one to wallow. I have shoe designs I can sell if I want clout in the industry again. But I don't know if I want that anymore. I enjoy fashion, but...it's funny, I don't think I need the clout to keep enjoying it."
"Sorry, wasn't thinking." Amanda gave her friend an apologetic smile. "If it helps, I think you're going in the right direction? In my experience, people who want power? Tend to get twisted up by it."
"In my experience, I think you're right," Adrienne agreed with a laugh. "And I think I'm plenty twisted already. So being a teacher is all the power I need these days. I feel like I should finish that statement up with a maniacal laugh."
"Today a maniacal laugh, tomorrow a lot of whimpering after your first few classes," teased Amanda. "This year's bunch ought to keep you on your toes."
"They can't be any more difficult than managing a stable full of models," the brunette shrugged. "I live for these sorts of challenges, so there will be no whimpering from me. Unless you meant my maniacal laugh making the students whimper," she winked.
"We'll see," was Amanda's reply, followed by a smirk.
