Signs posted up and down the school hallway did not let me forget: Snowball Dance—Next Friday Night! No one would be asking me, the junior high outcast.
My face was disfigured, my balance was off, I had seizures without warning. A brain tumor was making my freshman year miserable, but doctors wanted to monitor the tumor before operating.
Kids didn’t know what was wrong with me; they just thought I was weird. I kept my head down as I hurried to my locker, thinking of my mother’s prayer from the night before. “Why don’t we ask God to send someone to help you,” Mom said. “He can do that, you know.”
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Looking around the halls now I didn’t see anyone who fit that bill. I need an angel, I thought. An angel would know there was more to me than my tumor.
I stepped into the home ec. room where my teacher Mrs. Barrett waited. She looked amazing. As usual. Today she wore a tan ultrasuede suit and ruffled apricot-chiffon blouse. Too bad our class assignment was a boring A-line skirt.
My grandmother had been teaching me to sew for years. I was long past easy A-lines. Not that any of the other kids in the class knew it. Not that they would have cared if they did.
While everyone got down to work, Mrs. Barrett called me up to her desk. “A lot of girls need help with alterations on their formals for the Snowball Dance,” she said. “I thought you could help me after school.”
“Sure,” I said. What else did I have to do? Mom agreed to pick me up an hour later each day till Mrs. Barrett and I got the job done.
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We hemmed trains, sewed buttons, adjusted seams. We shortened some sleeves, lengthened others. We completely re-tailored one pink-satin gown with a seed-pearl bodice, redesigning the neckline, raising the darts, adjusting the armholes.
The day before the dance, I was in the home ec. room, feeling a bit like Cinderella. Teresa, one of the most popular girls, came by to pick up her sheath gown. “Roberta hemmed it by hand,” Mrs. Barrett told her.
Teresa looked at me as if seeing me for the first time. “It’s groovy!” she said. “Thanks. But you must have added this gorgeous belt.”
“I tied ribbons to the end of a pearl necklace,” I said, looking down at my penny loafers. “You should have something elegant. In case you get elected Snowball Queen.”
Teresa squeezed her hands together. “That would be dreamy.”
I didn’t see Teresa get crowned at the dance, but she and her Snowball Queen dress were the talk of the school the following week. Word quickly spread that I was actually good at something. Soon the girls were coming to me and Mrs. Barrett for custom-made dresses.
“We should organize a fashion show,” Mrs. Barrett said one day. A fashion show? That would be…groovy! But would any of the girls want to be in it?
“We’ll never know if we don’t try,” Mrs. Barrett said. We asked the girls in home ec. and they all wanted to participate. We had a packed auditorium for the show.
Mom sat in the front row. I worked feverishly backstage getting everyone ready. Mrs. Barrett stood on stage in a fabulous chiffon frock and read off the fashion descriptions I’d written.
“Our first model sports a mod minidress with pointed collar…” Big dark sunglasses, head scarf tied at the back and patent leather boots like Nancy Sinatra completed the look. The crowd went wild.
“This is a gas, Roberta,” one of the girls whispered to me in the wings as she waited her turn. Then she sauntered into the spotlight in a geometric-print shift with trumpet sleeves.
A psychedelic-print suit with boxy jacket and oversized buttons was followed by a palazzo jumpsuit, culottes, Capri slacks, a jumper dress and bell-bottoms. My gym teacher wore a skort and carried her tennis racket.
The last outfit was one of the many formals I’d made for the Snowball Dance. This fashion show was better than any dance could be. “I think we pushed the boundaries of fashion,” Mrs. Barrett said.
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Those weren’t the only boundaries we pushed. Come spring, Mrs. Barrett encouraged me to run for student body president. “The kids have seen what you’re capable of.” When the winner was announced, she was proved right. I was elected president of the sophomore class.
Mom thanked God for putting Mrs. Barrett in my life. This Cinderella didn’t need a fairy godmother. I had an angel in a tan ultrasuede suit.
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