Girl After Dark (2 page)

 

One Month Earlier …

“So, Vintage Honey, your real name’s Melissa, right? Is it okay if we
use
your real name for this article?”

“Sure,” I smile back, trying to cover my nerves. “That’s fine. You can call me Melissa. Although sometimes, I’m not sure where Vintage Honey ends and Melissa begins. Honey’s kind of a nickname for me, you see …”

“Great!” says Clara, the
Teen Vogue
journalist, smiling at me warmly from across the table in my kitchen. “Okay, so let’s get started …”

And with that, she reaches over to set her dictaphone recording then flips the page in her notebook to the questions she’s already scrawled down.

I take a deep breath and wait for her to begin, hoping I’m not going to make a fool of myself. This is my first time being interviewed for a real magazine, you see and so as you can probably imagine, it’s a pretty big deal.

“So Melissa,” she begins, “can you tell me how you got started doing this? I mean, no one had heard of you this time last year, and now you’ve got legions of teen fans. So, tell me how it all began.”

“Well,” I say, casting my mind back, realizing all over again just what crazy journey the last year of my life has been, “I’d just graduated from the London College of Fashion. You see, I’d always dreamed of being a fashion designer, setting up my own label, or maybe working in fashion PR or something like that? But of course, things didn’t turn out quite the way I imagined …”

Clara smiles and writes something down in her notebook. I wait for her to finish, then continue.

“I knew it wasn’t going to be easy to get a start in Fashion,” I say, “but I had no idea it was going to be
impossible
! After graduation, I’d done loads of internships, handed out my own body weight in CVs, and written about a million and one covering letters …”

At this Clara actually laughs and I feel myself relax a little bit.

“But of course then came the recession,” I continue, “and nobody was really hiring. And the only girl’s who
did
get jobs? Well, their mummies and daddies helped them out. You practically have to be called Vivienne Westwood to get a job in the fashion industry these days.”

“Sure, sure,” Clara says, making another little note and nodding.

“So,” I continue, “six months out of uni, I found myself working in Topshop on Oxford Circus instead. I mean, at least I was working in the fashion industry, but it was hardly the dream, was it? The hours were long, and I was on minimum wage, and I was constantly, totally broke.”

I pause to take a sip of my coffee, hoping that this is all making sense and I’m not garbling my words or getting too far ahead of myself. After all, it feels so different to be actually talking to another human being instead of to my camera, like I usually do … 

“Rent for my tiny bedroom in my shared house in Mile End, grotty though it was, was still completely extortionate. My student debts were mounting up higher and higher, and even with the staff discount I got at Topshop, I could still barely afford any of the clothes in the shop. And that degree I’d worked so hard to get suddenly seemed kind of worthless, and I really felt like I was never going to get any further in the fashion industry than working on the shop floor.”

Again, Clara nods and shoots me a friendly smile.

This is actually going okay!
I think.

“And even worse?” I continue. “
I
felt totally useless, too. For the first time in my life, I felt like I had no skills and was never going to get anywhere. I’ve always been really driven, you see, and this was a real shock to me. But despite all this, there
was
one thing I was still really good at … Looking good on a budget. Back then, it was about the one thing that made my life bearable. You see, despite how broke I was, I always stayed up to date with the latest trends, and kept my look original by scouting car boot sales and bric-a-brac shops for cute little vintage finds.”

At this, I take a moment to nod down at my current outfit, to hopefully illustrate my point. I’m wearing a cute pink dress with a really delicate black and white floral pattern on it and Clara smiles warmly, nodding and making another note. 

“Take this dress for example,” I say. “I bought it in a bargain bin in a vintage shop in Shoreditch. It was about twenty sizes too big for me, and floor length. So I took it in at the waist, shortened it to knee-length, then I had all this leftover fabric, you see, from the bottom? So I made this bow, too! It cost me, in total, eight pounds plus a few hours on my sewing machine, for a totally unique look. And this is exactly the kind of affordable, everyday fashion tip that I’m really keen on showing my viewers on YouTube and the readers of my blog!”

“That’s awesome!” Clara says. “So how did you go from working alone on your sewing machine to telling the world about it?”

“Well, actually,” I explain. “It didn’t start out with clothes. It started with makeup. My girlfriends would always ask me to do their makeup on a night out. And they were always complaining that they could never do ‘cat flick’ eyeliner half as good as I could. So one day, my best friend Katy showed me this YouTube video. It was a girl — a really sweet, normal girl about my own age — just sitting there in her bedroom, doing a Kim Kardashian makeup tutorial. ‘You could do this, too!’ said Katy. ‘I bet there’s
loads
of people out there who’d love to know just how you do your amazing eyeliner, and that’s just for starters.’”

I take another sip of coffee as I think back on those early days — it seems like an age ago now but in reality, it’s only about a year.

“And you know what?” I continue with a smile. “As I sat there watching this girl’s makeup tutorial, I knew deep down that I
could
do it. Then I looked at how many views this simple video had received so far: 600,000.
That’s crazy,
I thought.
I can’t believe that many people are watching a girl who isn’t an expert, who isn’t even famous or anything … She’s just totally normal, like me.
So that night, I raced straight home and recorded my very first video.”

I stop and laugh, shaking my head.

“Looking back now, that first video is totally cringeworthy. I’d just recorded it on my phone, the lighting was really bad, and I hadn’t even properly tidied up my bedroom. It was a total mess!”

I shudder to remember it and I hope I don’t sound like a slob. But luckily Clara laughs, too.

“But you know what?” I continue. “‘Perfect Cat Flick Eyeliner’ was a hit! Not at first, of course. At first, I got, like, 20 then 30 then 40 views, mostly just my friends. But slowly and surely the view count began to creep up, a little more each day. And then one day, oh my God! 6,000 views out of nowhere! I was really confused. I couldn’t work out why all these people were suddenly watching my video. And it turned out, that girl I’d watched? The very same one who’d done that Kim K tutorial? Well, she’d mentioned
me
in her latest video!”

“That’s brilliant!” Clara smiles and I nod, remembering all over again that rush of excitement when I first found out, when I first thought that maybe, just maybe, I could actually
make a living
doing this ...

“After that,” I say, “people wanted
more
videos. I received a barrage of messages and comments — all desperate for more. So I made them: starting with vintage style makeup, then moving more into fashion. And with each new video I uploaded, I received more views and comments and subscribers. I started a blog to go with it. I’d always loved writing in school, you see, which I’d forgotten about while I was focussing on my fashion career. It was so exciting to finally start writing again, too, and to have people actually
care
about what I wrote.”

“And just look at you now!” Clara says brightly as she scribbles something else in her notebook.

“So somehow,” I continue, “just a tiny little bit at first, I actually began to make money, too. And within a year, I realized that I was making more from all this than I was working full-time behind the tills at Topshop. So, that’s when I handed in my notice. I think Topshop were quite pleased, to be honest. Customers had started to recognize me on the shop floor and it was holding up the queues, all the questions they were asking me.”

At this, we both laugh.

“It’s kind of crazy, right?” I say, thinking again about how strange my current life is. “I just feel so lucky. My teachers at school always told me I’d never amount to anything if I didn’t get my head out of all those women’s magazines and pay more attention to my studies than my lipstick. But look at me now!”

§

After an afternoon spent talking to someone about
how
I do my job, it’s once more time to actually
do
it.

So, after quickly changing into a suitable outfit, I take a final deep breath. I glance at my image once more in the viewfinder, checking my glossy, cherry red lipstick one final time. The little red light on my camera is blinking on and off, which means it’s on pause: ready to record. I straighten the collar of my black crepe vintage blouse, tuck a stray strand of hair behind my left ear, then, only when I’m completely happy with my look, I reach out to hit record.

“Hi guys! I do hope you enjoyed yesterday’s Get Ready With Me video. Well, today I’m going to do something a little different. I know lots of you have been asking for this one, so today I’m going to show you how to do THE perfect French manicure …”

I
still
can’t believe that this is actually my job. Having spent the afternoon telling Clara all about it, finding myself once more sitting here, alone in my bedroom, chatting away happily to the camera. And so today, I’m doubly reminded just how strange it all is.

But this evening, the video actually goes pretty well for the most part and even as I’m recording it, I’m already thinking excitedly about all the nice comments it might receive from my fans.

I always try to record as much as I can in one continuous take, but this evening I keep stumbling over my words, perhaps from all the talking I did during the interview. So I’m relieved to finally wrap things up.

“… So that’s how you do it, guys. Thanks so much for watching this video and if you enjoyed it, please give it a thumbs up and leave me a comment. And do make sure to send me photos if you decide to try it yourself. Okay, love you all. Bye!”

Then I reach out and turn off the camera.

It’s kind of silly but whenever I finish a video, I still get this little rush of adrenaline. I can feel my heart beating and the hairs standing up on the back of my neck, my breathing shallow and the goosebumps flashing out across my skin.

I get up from my chair, about to lift the camera from its tripod and carry it over to my laptop, ready to get editing and upload my video to the whole world, when another idea strikes me.

After all, my makeup’s great, the lighting’s really good …

Why don’t I do a
second
video, I think. A different kind of video? A private one, intended this time for an audience of one, my boyfriend Will.

Earlier tonight, when we’d talked on the phone, he’d told me he’d be out on a ‘lad’s night’ until late tonight.

I can’t help but smile cheekily as I wonder whether I can perhaps record something to make Will cut his night with the guys short …

So, before I can change my mind, I quickly unbutton my blouse and pull down my vintage tweed skirt. But to my horror — oh God! I’m wearing my most comfortable, but
least sexy
washday knickers.

There’s no way I’m about to hit record on the camera and show Will
these
. And I’m about to give up on the whole idea, when I remember that waiting in my underwear drawer over there is a beautiful, unworn peach satin bra and knickers set that I’ve been saving for a special occasion — maybe our three-year anniversary, which is still a couple of months away.

No, tonight’s the night,
I think.