A/N: Found this prompt on a random website and thought it could be funny. We'll see. So, I looked up fads from the 1890's and found a peculiar one that I couldn't pass up. I haven't written anything in a while so we will see if this short little story turns out to be any good. Happy reading.
Prompt: discuss a character that goes overboard with fads.
Being a newsie, Racetrack Higgins was awfully aware of the latest going-ons of New York City. Typically, when business was slow, Race would actually skim a story or two instead of memorizing headlines to hawk. True to his namesake, he would keep a wary eye out for horseracing stories and other entities that held the possibility of becoming betting grounds. However, Race's guilty pleasures included the society pages, editorials, and the culture page. On the morning of July 26th, Race was browsing the culture page when an article caught his eye.
"Lavender: The New Black" it said. Lavender? What was lavender? A color, apparently. The journalist described it as a putrid purple that was the object of fashion for the next few years. Everything was lavender these days. According to the paper, high society women would wear lavender dresses and petticoats, and businessmen would color treat leather gloves to be the color of current custom. Race kept reading the article in disbelief. The text raved about the color for half a page. Writing well, the journalist had Race convinced that lavender was truly a life changing color.
Going-on eighteen, Race understood the importance of establishing himself in the world outside hawking headlines. Setting his mind on the inevitable, Race began calculating how much money he would need to revamp his drab wardrobe. If he put half of his savings into easy gambling, he could earn enough money to look like a dapper business owner in six months tops. Race racked his brain for shortcuts. He had an extra white shirt he could take to a dyer. One item of fashion practically already owned.
Four weeks later, Race entered the shop of the color treater for a second time. The artisan, Sam, raised an eyebrow as the small Italian walked in. This time, the newsie place a pair of leather gloves on the counter.
"Purple?"
The young man scowled. "Lavender" he said smartly. The shop owner rolled his eyes and took the gloves into the back room after mumbling that the boy could pick them up next Monday.
The ten dollars it took to dye the fifteen dollar gloves would be very much worth every penny and the wait. After all, Race had read numerous articles about the lavender fad since he went to dye his extra white shirt. The white shirt had been carefully pressed and hid away in the newsboys' home along with a black suit he saved for and bought recently. All he needed now was a hat with a lavender ribbon and he'd be ready for an afternoon with any Czar, Kaiser, Prime Minister, or President.
Anthony Higgins was nineteen years old and had just got a job at as a carriage driver for a local wealthy couple. With the help of his newsie friends, Anthony was moving his things out from his area in the newsboys' home. Dressed in his finest, Mr. Higgins was ready to immediately begin work. His long-time friends gawked at him as he held his dirty things in one hand while wearing a purple shirt, gloves and hat ribbon. The callused gambling street rat they knew had become a doily under their noses. In his box of things, Anthony had kept snippets of newspaper. Articles on the strike, the obituary of his mother, and a picture of Sheepshead racetrack were all buried under worn scraps of ink and paper about fashion, culture, and society pages. As Anthony Higgins shut the door on his childhood bedroom, the newsies promised themselves to never read the paper they made their livelihood off of again.
A/N: Mer, didn't turn out as well as I wanted it too. Oh well, I won't mess with it. Apparently, men's gloves in lavender were a big thing… who knows really, but I thought that could have had a lot of potential for a story. Thanks for reading. Feel free to leave any type of review. I less than 3 haters.