Chapter 4 - Transformation

Sabrina could not fully understand Vanessa.  In spite of her generosity, helping with dress fitting and groceries, the Floridian showed plenty of Southern arrogance and put herself front and center.  Yet she always had plenty of heart to spare.  Was it because of the general rule that young socialites are discouraged from doing anything apart from isolating themselves from the rest of the world.  Were any of them forbidden from making new friends?

“Sadly, dear Pa O’Neil arranged a meeting for me and five gentlemen callers.  Five!  All were rejected.”

Vanessa continued to share this among other frivolous stories to Wilkins, Amelia, and the maidservants over the course of dinner and three apple pies.  Many of the maids came from poorer backgrounds across rural New England… many of them Boston.  So they would politely return the favor to Vanessa and talk about the city’s complex history, specifically the infamous Tea Party that led to the American Revolution.  Sabrina kept quiet as she felt the Floridian may have outdone herself trying to persuade everyone in town to admire her.

As the date of the Mayoral gala ball drew nearer, Vanessa split her time between overseeing Sasha’s creative endeavor and teaching Sabrina the ins and outs of how one would gracefully glide about to a romantic symphony in ballroom attire.  Sabrina still tumbled a little here and there, yet after her previous mishap she was determined not to repeat such a pitfall. Heaven help her if she did so on the dance floor and expose her poor legs!  But today, Vanessa went easy on her and traded her bodice and hoops for a wide brimmed hat, striped vest and a matching pair of mens’ trousers.  All the maids immediately swooned over her very appearance!  Vanessa looked as equally handsome as a dashing gentleman that she did a woman.  The month of May was fast approaching, with only two days left in April.  It became imperative that Sasha finish the dresses at least a week before the gala.  

Sasha really needed Vanessa's help and guidance more than ever.  Back at the Grossmans’, Sabrina stood in that many-layered petticoat, chemise and corset being fitted by Sasha.  At the same time Vanessa looked over other designs in the current edition of Greta and Ingrid’s sewing periodical for more suggestions.  Within an empty room used for storing mannequins, all three shared the same book and poured over different designs and patterns for each gown. “If I put something atop my head, like some feathers and veil resembling starlight…” the Floridian proposed, “That would make a wonderful accent, don’t you think?”

“Akh!  Kak flamingo v nochnom nebe!” cheered Sasha.  “I love it!”

Vanessa smiled at Sasha as all three agreed with her presentation of hair ornaments.  Yet while the southern belle was very particular in hair decorations, everyone struggled to agree on overall appearance. It was hardly surprising, given how Sasha came from a small village in the Crimeas, now tattered in ruins.  The poor working girl spent much of her life in Newport unaccustomed to the workings and norms of American high society.  Even Vanessa became shocked by how little she understood.

"Sasha, please don’t feel overwhelmed.  I understand this is a different country but we’ll pull through together.”  Vanessa took one glance at Sabrina’s ballgown.  “Now that you mention I do agree with this draped pattern.”

“Really?  I’ll flip page and show where found design.”

Sasha stopped fitting Sabrina for the time being.  She rushed over, turned multiple pages and then guided the Floridian's tanned finger toward a small drawing of a woman in a golden ballgown.  The skirt adorned with many ruffles like the drapes of a curtain. The bodice was also frilled, boasting a low neckline which accentuated the woman's bust.  Sabrina peeked over the backs of Sasha and the curious Floridian.

“If the design here is colored gold, why did you and Sabrina settle on blue?”

"I...not so sure," she thought aloud. "She like color of sky and reflection on water.  This blue satin, ‘coppelia’, remind me of ripple across stream.”

“Hehe, I like that name of fabric.” Sabrina replied.

The half-Russian blushed as she turned a few more pages.  The ladies’ eyes rested on a drawing of a simpler, more modern-looking ballgown. This time, the silhouette was slimmer than the large, bouffant-shaped crinoline which she last saw Sabrina wear in her fitting room. The dress itself was all one pattern: checkered from bodice to hemline, most likely from one fabric, gingham. Even the rather large, balloon-like sleeves boasted a checkered design, save for the white wrist cuffs. Vanessa huffed at the unimaginative concept art.

"Sasha, that looks far too plain for a gala.”

“Well, not for me…”

“You??”  Scolded Vanessa.  “But… you’re not going with us.  Remember our conversation?”

“I could try blend in, not speak?”

“Sasha, this is a really sophisticated event.  ‘Blending in’ would not be enough.  You’re familiar with the kinds of people besides Sabrina and myself who go to fancy parties, correct?  The very rich?  People of higher status?  Income?  We understand you because we’re friends.  Anyone else who makes money around these parts could step all over you.”

“S-sorry.”

“No.  No apology necessary.  I understand you want to wear fancy things but not everyone is kind around here.” Vanessa did not wish for Sasha to beg her way through any further.  Then she remembered when Sabrina came too close to Sasha’s patchwork curtain… “Sabrina, perhaps it’s time I saved the best for last… and voila!!”

This time, all three witnessed an illustration of a much fancier, more elaborate concept than the previous designs. The gown within the page consisted of a unique combination of layers, shapes and colors, as if it were two dresses in one. The outer layer, colored in a deep navy dye, draped over the inner layer like a lampshade. The underskirt, which was dyed in alternating shades of indigo, forming a perfect half-sphere for the wearer, and resembling either a punch bowl or a large church bell. Sasha almost blushed at the design, seeing especially that the bodice of the dress, which parted from the waist to the shoulders, would draw attention to Sabrina's bust by a frilled blouse. Finally, the sleeves bloomed out from the elbow to the wrists, like some great circus tent.

"That was… very elaborate design, Vanessa. Still require extra effort to finish.  I know you not fond of me coming to ball with you, yet are you sure you would not settle for gingham?"

"Gingham is far too homely, Sasha. Satins are better for a debut.  Indeed, the other guests are pompous and I care not for their desires, but you must remember that this ball is a chance for Sabrina to find a suitor."

The seamstress glared softly at the comment. "You mean gingham ugly.  You are bad as them, da?"

Vanessa's eyes nearly bulged out of her head at the accusation. "Perish the thought, my dear!" she denied, drawing away from her brief moment of contempt. "There is simply a better place for gingham than at a fancy ball as this."

"What you mean? Sabrina almost always wear gingham when I come visit! Are my designs not good enough for ball?"

"Is that so?” Vanessa stared at Sabrina.  She then ceased from further aggression, trying to mediate. "You… you are, how I say it… very pretty, even with short hair.  And you make fine dresses.  I’ll see if I can find you an event like a carnival to attend in the future.  But were Sabrina any indication, especially as a woman skittish enough to postpone her debut into society, it's vital to make a good impression. Thus, I fear gingham may not do that."

Sasha tilted her head in confusion. "Good impression? What you mean?"

Vanessa stepped back after so much hesitation, thinking on the day she came of age and needed to dress fancily in her Florida home. Her servants would swear she was the most stubborn girl to walk the earth, but her father and mother made a strong impression on her. In order to keep up appearances and leave the right impression in mixed company, it was not enough to simply act like a lady of society, or move and dance as one, but to look the part as well. "Back in Florida, I thought the same as you," she explained. "When I went to my first coming-out party, I wanted to wear the same stupid thing every day. Something like what you have, actually."

Sasha looked herself over, trying to understand the Southerner's story. Her dress was all of one pattern (plaid) and of one fabric (her beloved gingham). The colors were rather dull and drab, a simple brown with black accents save for the frilled white wrist cuffs on her sleeves and the matching collar that held a ruby brooch around her neck. She tried picturing Vanessa in such a dress, which was admittedly difficult; it was hard to picture Vanessa in anything other than bright, flashy red. "You wore gingham, too, Vanessa?"

She nodded, her blonde tresses bouncing over her shoulders. "At home, yes," she said and covered her mouth with a soft titter. "It's not all flash and spectacle for me all the time, dear."

"So why you not wear at first party?"

"My father taught me that it wasn’t enough for a lady to be prim and proper. He said, 'clothes make the man.' Ha! The MAN indeed!  Naturally, I tried to convince him of my womanhood, my coming of age… still the principle remains the same. When trying to find someone, and when appearing in mixed company, you should always look your best." Sasha's glare softened, but she was still unconvinced.

"But why that mean gingham not appropriate?"

"For such a fancy gathering as this, where ladies of high standing meet gentlemen looking for a potential bride, it's not enough to display good etiquette and manners. It is also a chance for us to show how beautiful we are, physically and emotionally. Do you understand what I mean?"

"I suppose..." Sasha acquiesced, half-heartedly with a resigned sigh.

They returned to the design book, and Vanessa tried hard to explain to Sasha why the design she picked was the best. Sasha listened, even if she showed some level of apprehension for working on Vanessa’s dress.  Should her own favored designs not be destined for the spotlight at this time, it didn’t mean the seamstress had no interest in helping her friends. This lively southerner had some strange ideas, to be sure, but perhaps Vanessa spoke more honestly than Sasha had given credit. Being a well-meaning lady required more than the manners and grace that Sabrina regularly possessed. It also required the ability to look one's best and make a statement to the world.

Vanessa then let her guard down once more.  "I would love to see you wear gingham, someday, because in the end you would look better in it than me.  But right now Sabrina needs this, to help her family name, and herself.  You wouldn’t let down a dear friend, would you?”

Sasha nodded, and then hugged Sabrina.  “Sorry I act like this.”

Sabrina comforted her younger seamstress companion.  “You’re doing fine, Sasha.  You’ve worked hard.”

Vanessa knew Sasha far less than Sabrina, yet she really hoped if the two would come to terms like they did, everyone in the room would feel much better.

⁂⁂⁂

Soon came a lovely weekend in late May, with fishermen already setting out on course from the shoreline to Narragansett Bay, hoping to sail outward beyond the shoreline and ready their nets for bountiful catches. As the boats of all varying shapes, ages, and colors ventured out to bring back fish, crabs, lobster and the like, the three young teenage girls came close to finishing breakfast.  A hefty omelette with tomatoes, mushrooms and peppers all cooked and prepared from Sabrina's garden. Despite their widely colorful and diverse set of personal traits, they had a far more pleasant time talking to each other.

Much of that Saturday, Sabrina and Vanessa waited for Sasha to put the finishing touches on each of their ballroom dresses, right before the clock struck six in the evening. Just as they were about to retire, Sabrina's butler Wilkins came in.

"I understand you were looking for Miss Grossman?  I apologize but she left early after breakfast to help with her mother’s customers and just came back.”

At the news, both girls' faces brightened. For a while, they thought for sure it would have to wait until another day, and they would have to miss the ball altogether. No sooner had Sabrina's butler announced her when Sasha appeared before them, flanked by fellow servants carrying large suitcases. Undoubtedly, they contained the fruits of her many weeks of labor.

"Forgive me, ma'am, but Miss Grossman was most insistent that she bring these in with her."

"It's quite alright, Wilkins," Sabrina said, nodding knowingly at Sasha. "You may leave us."

"Very good, ma'am."

While Wilkins made himself scarce, Sasha, wearing a grin running from ear to ear and practically bouncing with excitement, let in her friends on the details. In the meantime, Sabrina's fellow servants carried the suitcases into the dressing room. Even Sabrina and Vanessa could not contain their excitement to see their finished dance attire.

"Everything ready now," Sasha said excitedly as they all traipsed up the stairs to the dressing room. "Took some time, and required much work, but everything almost done, finally! I think both of you will like, very much!"

In the dressing room, as the suitcases were opened and unfurled for the final fitting. The final fabrics picked out for Sabrina and Vanessa back at the shop took time to sew, yet at last the two frocks became fully realized. Sasha was so pleased at her work finally coming to fruition, yet her impatience persisted.

"Please try on! It look incredible after so much work!"

Sabrina, still wearing her night robes, almost fumbled with the shining satin coppelia frock presented to her. Moments before she had been read to sleep, but now was excited as she would be in the morning, or just before the gala.

"I'm sure it's pretty, but first help me into the crinoline like you normally do..."

Sasha followed the heiress's instructions, and went through the seemingly myriad steps a lady must make when preparing to step out, adding one layer on another.  First the chemise and bloomers; then the corset, tightened just enough to emphasize her slim waist and growing bust; next came her dancing shoes, black with cloth bows on the front; afterward the large crinoline cage slipped over her and locked just above her hips before itself being covered by a modified petticoat adorned with ruffles. Finally out came the dress itself. Sasha gasped with so much delight… but she had an idea to make the unveiling even more exciting for her friend.

"Zakroitye glaza, pozhalusta," Sasha asked in her native tongue. "I want this to be surprise."

Sabrina nodded and did so.  "Very well. By the way, Sasha, could you tie my hair to match your design.  I require nothing but absolute confidence!"

Such words would have deafened Sasha if they belted out the mouth of a far more spoiled resident of high society, but coming from the mouth of her friend and best customer, Sasha only smiled and nodded. She could tell she just wanted the hair to match the dress as would in the illustrations they had poured over together.

"Will do. Two buns in back of neck!  I have pretty hairband too."

After the dress draped over Sabrina's form, Sasha wound up the right side of Sabrina's light flaxen hair around her hand, then used a medium pin to roll it into a side bun, resembling a dinner roll. She repeated the process on the left, and Sasha finished by putting on a simple matching navy blue hairband.

"Can I open them now?" Sabrina asked, trying to suppress her excited laughter. "I can't stand being kept in suspense!"

"Yes! Mirror in front! Please see!"

Sabrina opened her eyes in front of the three-sided mirror of her dressing room, and her jaw almost dropped past her neck at what she saw.  In her reflections stood a most ravishing beauty.  Her entire ballgown seemed to fill the room.  It really did look like the kind the neighbors’ children would see in fairy tale books or from Renaissance-era frescoes. From her head to her flowing sleeves and ruffled bodice to her elaborate skirts, she thought she was looking at a princess from olden times.  Made almost entirely from that glorious coppelia satin, the dress formed two layers. The outer layer, dyed in a deep blue, formed an over-skirt and part of the bodice.  It extended only from just below her shoulders to her sleeves, wide and flared near her wrists and adorned with a white frill underneath. The bodice then curved inward as it ran down her chest, allowing a ruffled indigo chemise to peek out. Once the over-skirt joined at the waist, it flared out both left and right over her underskirt, taking on the form of a lampshade. The second layer formed the underskirt, dyed in deepest black and extending down to the floor in a large soft rustling dome around her. If she was not going to a fancy ball, she thought, it would make the perfect dress to catch the wind on warm nights.  Sabrina was the very picture of beauty. A true princess brought to life. She wondered: would the children think so?  Well, even if the children never had any chance of seeing it, her friends would, and Mr. Colin Wadsworth! She could easily see why Sasha was so adamant about choosing such elaborate fabric. Clothes did indeed make the lady.

For this seemingly eternal moment in front of her mirror, it was incredible. She put her hands in front of her mouth, and held back a gasp. Sasha thought she might scream, but instead, she only heard her friend whisper excitedly.

"Oh, my goodness! This...this can't be! But it is!" Sabrina let herself twirl a few times in order to allow the skirt and petticoats some levitation.

SWOOSH! SWOOSH!

Every inch of blue coppelia satin felt so rich, it reacted to the surrounding air with captivating rustles in her movements. In her mind, she could hear the orchestra playing a grand waltz as music notes breezed around her into a mild whirlwind.  "This gown, it... it's a moving work of art! It's so wonderful! I feel like I could fly!"

She picked up the front of her skirt as if attempting to waltz with herself, balancing on her right foot and then, an even bigger twirl! She moved in a full rotation from left to right, then again from right to left. Again and again she reveled in the graceful movements of her new wardrobe, almost hypnotized by her own reflection. And at last she sunk into the ground with a lovely finish, the skirts slowly inflating and deflating as she lowered her body. It was more than just a quick curtsy to greet visitors but the kind that any woman at a ball would finish her dance: a very grand kneel with a beautiful spread. Sasha applauded.

"Truly a beauty, Sabrina. You most definitely ready for ball!"

"Thank you very much, Sasha. You really outdid yourself!  Eta tvoya samaya luchshaya rabota!"

The half-Russian seamstress blushed and smiled.
"Blagodaryu, moya podruga."

The two giggled, their friendship even stronger in spite of the language barrier. But now, both were curious about Vanessa. Would she feel any less satisfied? Sabrina, eager to see more of her seamstress friend's work, already lowered expectations slightly that her Florida-born tutor would show any sense of becoming pessimistic.  "What will Vanessa think?  I suppose a critique is in order before we leave?"

Sasha averted her eyes, as if not fully understanding the question.

"You and Nessa so weird!  Think she feel better looking at her own dress."

Vanessa showed up in night robes, just in time to observe Sabrina’s ballgown resting on its mannequin while the heiress herself locked her room and changed for bed. Strangely enough she took a bit longer than with the ballgown.  Vanessa politely knocked and Sabrina opened her bedroom door in her sleepwear.

"If you don't mind, dear Sabrina," she requested, her charming southern accent peeking through, "I would like it if you closed your door again, because now it’s MY turn!”

It turned out Vanessa overheard Sasha wanting to surprise Sabrina. Naturally her tutoring friend thought she might have a little fun surprising her a second time.
"I know you will love this," she said with a confident chortle. "You may begin, Sasha..."

Sabrina closed the door and could only hear the light rustling of fabric and the soft clank of a crinoline being fitted around Vanessa's waist. The anticipation was enough to make her explode, but she kept her composure for as long as she could, choosing to indulge her friend's want for surprise. As the minutes ticked by, Sabrina's mind was awash with speculations of how Vanessa’s ballgown would differ from her own. Knowing her, she would likely dress in something flashy that would catch every eye in the dance hall. The Floridian girl had a penchant for spectacle, almost to the level of frivolity as demonstrated by the stories she told to Amelia’s maidservants.

"Alright, Sabrina. You can open them now."

Like a curtain rising on a stage, Sabrina's eyes opened… and she felt deceived by what was in front of her.  Vanessa stood a distance from Sabrina dressed very exotically, as if she were not a southern belle from the sunny Florida coast, but a Parisian socialite.  The confused heiress wondered if Sasha upon Vanessa’s request had taken the design from the periodical and mixed it together with something out of a masquerade.  There could be no other explanation: The dress was all a red satin and trimmed with an elegant black frill around the hem, held together by gold-dyed thread.  A hint of gold-tinted petticoats peeked out from underneath.  Gold!  Vanessa lifted her hem up to examine it in the dressing room mirrors. Her bodice had been trimmed with matching gold lace around the low neckline, showing off her ample bosom, and decorated with gold sequins in long, vertical parallel lines down to her waist. The large, balloon-like sleeves also sported a golden sequin pattern, complimenting the bodice. On her hands were long, elbow-length black gloves and on her head sat a transparent red veil covering half of her face, topped with long red feathers.

“Well?” Vanessa asked as she twirled around in her dress.  Awhole flurry of golden petticoats flared out from under her skirts like the ribbons around a maypole. Sabrina, her mouth agape with awe, could hardly speak of her friend's appearance. Was it truly her friend standing there, or Marguerite Gautier about to attend a masquerade? Either way, she could not deny how exotic, how stunning, Vanessa looked. "You seem awash in fascination, Sabrina." Vanessa laughed loudly.

Sabrina did not hesitate.  "More than that!  Your gown looks very otherworldly!  Yet, it’s… very nice!"

Vanessa blushed slightly under her veil.  "Well, I wouldn't go that far..." blushed Vanessa.  “I admit it’s not my greatest achievement.  Far from it.”

Sabrina’s face froze in shock from Vanessa’s words.  “Um…?”

Sabrina sat on her bed, expression still fixed on her face.  Sequin-clad Vanessa stood looking at her reflection for a whole half hour.  Afterward she and Sabrina agreed to store away their ballgowns before retiring for the night.  Sabrina and Sasha whispered that the Floridian’s ballroom clothing could easily be worn in the French Quarter of New Orleans during Mardi Gras.  Every sequin glowed in the light of the dressing room, sparkling like fireflies in the night. Now that she thought of it, Vanessa’s frocks were much too vibrant for a partner and she preferred to dance solo.  Such was her hope at this ball.  Back in her own nightwear Vanessa walked over to Sasha. "You make a very fine gown, Sasha. My compliments to you."

"You like, then, da?" she asked, hopefully.

"Yes. Very much. Worth every penny~!"

"I so very glad you think so!"

Sasha embraced Vanessa tightly and all agreed that she had truly outdone herself. Normally, Sasha was consigned to creating in-house, casual dresses, so ballgowns were a rarity.  Sabrina and Vanessa both praised the immigrant seamstress to a point that she felt the gala could really shift her fortunes.

"Thank you all so much!  I put so much into detail for each ballgown!  I very happy that you like this work. But come, we must all go to bed now."

Every girl nodded, and bid each other goodnight…