“Gardenia Whites”

Springtime in Savanah, Georgia, meant diverse things to assorted people. Yes, lovely are the blooms and more temperate weather. But Mineta Bergmans was familiar with another species of flower about to blossom – and she knew it to be an invasive genus – The Southern Belle outfitting herself to debut into society.

Rare seed indeed, the “belle”. Not a blossom to be trifled with – especially the parent plant.

Gardenia Whites – the ladies shop no female fatale in waiting would be caught NOT be seeing in during cotillion season, was a flurry of lace, satin, silks and all other manners of frippery dedicated to adorning the ‘belle’ in ball room regalia- along with her entire entourage.

Just defining the word cotillion to herself gave Mineta hives. Crinoline did too.

Not to mention, it required an imaginary slip into the mind of a ‘belle’ and coming up with a window design that encouraged Gardenia Whites to draw enough “belle” seeds into the shop to sprout a green bottom line.

Thanks to the heavens above it was a temporary visit, and she had friends to help her cope.

Mineta was the shops window dresser, and Miss. Evangeline Rose, her boss and store owner, counted on her to go into her mind – also what she referred to as “a place I never want to go myself” – and come up with visions of multicolored fluffs of femineity while having scant thistledown herself.

The attic storeroom was Mineta’s favorite space in the store to be. Here she could look at the hodgepodge of window dressing resources and select her harpooning lures.

Taking out her notebook while reviewing in her mind what a ‘belle’ would want to see – that would incite her to come rushing in the shop to see how marvelous she looked in it – began her inventory.

Barnaby had the same expression he had last time she was up there – still blankly handsome but missing his left arm.

Check – replace Baraby’s left arm.

Lucinda remained vacant but elegant – and missing her right foot.

Check – replace Lucinda’s right foot.

As Mineta prudently listed what each mannequin needed for repair, she spoke softly to them about her life in a voice only they could hear.

They never judged or interrupted; they just listened.

“I’m not equipped to be a ‘belle’ “, she would opine. “Nor would I want to be – I don’t think?”

Though she thought too, it may be rather nice for a change to be seen decorated as a celestial vision of delicate grace and beauty, rather than her dull, unattractive and awkward self.

Uninteresting was not a bad ensemble in general, it just wasn’t the appropriate accessory for fluffy.

Oh, well, perhaps next season – or not.

Drawn out of her demoralizing musing by a metal hoop skirt slamming into the back of her head, Mineta rubbed the spot, then took up the gathering of items she needed and headed downstairs to do her window dressing magic.

Gardenia Whites closed on Sunday night early, so employees could rest up before the strenuous gardening season of the ‘belles’, sprouting when the morning sun rises on Monday.

Flamingo colored satin drapes drawn down snug over the display window created tantalizing conjectures of the mysteries to be unveiled.

Monday morning arrived along with a cluster of tittering ‘belles’ of all species; the drapes were raised, the possibilities revealed.

Mineta stood in the shadows of the giggling ‘belles’ and sighed to herself with satisfaction.

Barnaby, his new arm in a dapper suit of silver grey trimmed in black, stood on the ready by Lucinda, in layers of cotton candy pink lace, with a dainty rose colored silk slipper on her new foot.

What a handsome couple her friends made.

Mounds of lace, silk, satin, and all manners of frippery were tossed about the floor, with sparking jeweled accessories tucked in their folds completing the scene.

Through the window Mineta could see a vison of fantasy come to life that was hers – yet not.

-Leika