The Time-Traveling Fashionista by Bianca Turetsky

theyfell down around her. The gown stopped right above the floor, with a little beaded train trailing behind her.



“Oh my,” Anna said with a sigh, shaking her head with disappointment. “You seem to have gotten a bit of sun today.”
    Like that’s a bad thing?
Louise wondered, happy to have a slight tan in April.
    Anna covered Louise’s face and lips with a thick white pancakey foundation that came from a brass tin. Louise glanced in the
     antique mirror behind Anna’s shoulder and was once again startled to see herself, now pale as a ghost. She really hoped Anna
     wouldn’t turn around and see the real Louise under all that makeup. Anna used a dark kohl pencil to line her eyes and a brush
     to smudge it around. She then applied a creamy rouge to her cheeks, making them pop like candy apples.
Apparently, in 1912, the clown look is in style?
    She blotted Louise’s lips with a creamy red lipstick. The color was amazing, like Old Hollywood in a golden tube. She sprayed
     her with a different perfume; this one was a little more floral than the last. Not only could Miss Baxter not wear the same
     thing twice, it seemed she also couldn’t smell like the same thing twice.
    Anna placed a delicate diamond tiara on top of her hair, which she had artfully twisted into a loose knot at the nape of her
     neck with a few strategically placed hairpins. Now she was truly a princess, or rather a glamorous actress, with the crown
     and all.
    Looking her over approvingly, Anna handed her a delicate gold mesh clutch to hold her lipstick and perfectly accessorize the
     look.
Voilà.
    Of course, Louise had no idea how to find the first-class dining room by herself. Anna insisted on drawing her a map on a
     piece of White Line stationery from the writing desk so that she wouldn’t be late for dinner. Louise took the map and left
     the suite, slowly making her way through the grandiose corridors, teetering on Miss Baxter’s pinching blue satin high-heeled
     shoes. The carpeted hallways all looked the same, and she was relieved to have some direction.
    She nodded mutely in greeting to the other passengers she passed. The corset made it hard for her to breathe, let alone talk.
     It was strange; they all looked like they were cast as extras in a period film. Men were handsomely dressed in dark dinner
     jackets with top hats. Women had their hair in elaborate up-dos, and some wore floor-length skirts that looked like brightly
     colored lampshades and were gathered so tightly at the ankle they were forced to waddle down the hall like a flock of ducks.
     To her, it was a very peculiar style.
    “Isn’t it simply divine?” she overheard one woman gush. “Have you ever seen a ship so luxurious?” Everyone seemed to be in
     the best of spirits.
    After two lefts and a right, Louise arrived.

Standing at the top of the grandest staircase she had ever seen, Louise basked in the natural moonlight that shone through
     the wrought-iron-and-glass dome above her head. She looked up in awe and saw a black night sky flecked with twinkling stars,
     flashing down on her like a celestial paparazzi. The staircase was constructed of polished oak and embellished with gilded
     bronze decorations. Ornately framed oil landscape paintings decorated the walls of the landing. A bronze cherub mounted on
     the center railing held up a lamp that illuminated the way. Walking down the wide sweeping stairs in Miss Baxter’s evening
     gown made her feel truly beautiful and special, like maybe she could actually be Miss Baxter for real.
    “Ahh, Miss Baxter!” Mr. Baxter shouted from the foot of the staircase. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”
    Louise blushed as all eyes looked up at her. She heard a low whistle from a man in a black tailcoat passing by her on thestairs.
Awesome, I’m a movie star!
She wasn’t used to being noticed by men—or rather boys—for her beauty. She carefully made her way down the staircase, convinced
     she was going to wipe out in