QUINNS

Press, 7 April 1987, Page 19

QUINNS

is where it all began.it was a day I’ll always remember. Oh dear Reader if you could have seen me then.

Young Mr Penny from Cousin Mary’s solicitors drove me to Merivale and insisted on accompanying me inside the store. I think perhaps he was worried that I’d never go through with it — and just for a minute I think he was right.

There I was dressed as usual in a faded skirt and darned cardie, wearing heavy black lace-up shoes and clutching the old vinyl shopping bag. You see, Cousin Mary had never allowed me to buy new clothes. Once I’d outgrown or outworn the ones I arrived with she either made-over her own rejects or shopped for me at jumble sales.

QUINNS WAS A DREAM COME TRUE Hesitantly I’d explained my requirements. Not that I told the full story. Who wanted to hear of my dreary life housekeeping for a demanding Cousin Mary or of her untimely and indeed unnecessary death. Alas she had been too frugal once too often and by the time she had agreed to proper medical attention, sadly it was too late. Or of the subsequent news from the solicitors handling her estate that she had left information to be revealed, to me as to the whereabouts of my father!

Oh the shock of that news. All those years I had lived on scraps and hand-me-downs and Cousin Mary’s cold charity and all the time I had a father. Not just alive and well, but famous! And as close as Melbourne . . . less than three house away by air. Now she had not only revealed his presence — but left me enough money to arrive on his doorstep looking — as her Will stated — “every inch an heiress.”

So there I was. My careworn, workworn,

forlorn self was about to undergo a metamorphosis!

The pale pinks and beige of Quinns’ dressing room was reflected in the bank of mirrors. So was I. My red hair was still scraped back into a bun, and nervousness had increased my pallor... my green eyes appeared even more startling in contrast. Cousin Mary would have tightened her lips and scraped my hair back still further if she had been there. . . But there was only me. And a glimpse of my shrunken slip and mended vest reminded me that I had been advised to start from the skin out. “Never mind,” smiled Quinns’ assistants. “We’ll pop down to our Lingerie store and get you something in the meantime. Then you can refurbish your lingerie wardrobe at your leisure.” Oh the luxury of that first smooth slip of silk sliding over my skin. Then came the clothes. Never in all my life had I imagined such buttery soft tweeds — such feather-light wools and velours and cashmere — such sleek leathers — and crunchy knits.. . . Coats — suits — day dresses — cocktail dresses — evening dresses — separates . . . Then the shoes and bags and belts. The jewellery that sparkled like the chandeliers above. It seemed as if everyone at Quinns was going to find me something special to wear. I loved it dear Reader. The clothes, the service, the attention. It was as if I had been waiting all my life for this moment. That very first day I wore an outfit of creamy white softness. A dress - softly and expertly tailored to fit where it should and to flatter with lean lines. Then a matching jacket (to

wear with the matching skirt and long-line top I’d also bought). A wonderfully rich silk blouse completed this fashion story, so I added that too. And for the first time in my

life I was wearing a hat. Chic and ultra smart, it gave me a ‘vdguish’ air. The unusual belt, was, I felt, a final elegant touch. Charles obviously did too. If felt his lingering gaze lingered just a little too long, but I must confess dear Reader, I knew my tiny waist and long legs were certainly emphasised. Admiration shone from his eyes as I turned and the full skirt whispered softly round my ankles. He brushed the lapel of his dark pinstriped suit and straightened his red spotted tie — and smiled. “Clarissa, that is perfect. Winter white becomes you — and the fit — it is superb." “Clarissa," he murmured, his sleek head bent to min, his dark blue eyes filled with emotion . . . "you’ve emerged like a delicate butterfully from your dull grey cocoon. Who would ever have known ...” * This story is to totally imaginary. However, the Store — QUINNS FASHIONS — the suburb — Merivale — and the fashions described herein are true.

Dress and Jacket by SYBIL. Available in winter-white or navy. Sizes 10, 12, 14. Dress $319.95. Jacket $191.95

Winter white velour haf, contrast trim. By DOLLIE VARDIN. $89.95

Snakeskin ‘knot’ belt by SCOTT DESIGN. Cream reptile.