A Power of My Own: Edna Mode's Story

"Whatcha doin' Edna?"
Edna Mode quickly snatched up the sketchbook and held it tightly to her chest. "None of your business," she snarled.
"Whatever..." her roommate Jennifer said, heading to their bedroom.
That was the problem with these damn American exchange students, always prying! And that was especially the problem with people like Jennifer. Jennifer was beautiful, gorgeous even, and Edna knew she could spot beauty, it was the job of any good artist. She was six foot, blonde, and a trim one hundred and forty five pounds. And Edna hated her. Hated her, because she, Edna Mode, creator of beautiful things, was barely four feet, had huge glasses and stringy black hair. She looked back down at her sketch. It would be a dream in blue silk, perfect in every way. And maybe one of the boys would look at her now. A scream from the bedroom interrupted her fond thoughts of Hans Zikorski, Polish, but gorgeous.
"Vat is it?" Edna asked. "She hass probably burned her hair on her curling iron," she thought aloud.
"My dress!"
Worse, a fashion emergency of some kind! Despite Edna's dislike of Jennifer, articles of clothes held a special place in her heart. And Jennifer's parents had spared no expense on her wardrobe. Edna stood and walked to the bedroom, ready to give advice on taking stains out with spring water or lots of cold water- when she saw the dress. "Mein Gott. Vat did you do to the poor thing?" she asked.
The dress in question was white damasked, with a pinkish stain around the entire upper half, from waist to shoulder.
"I wore my red sweater with it," Jennifer sobbed.
"You never should have do that," Edna said critically.
"I know, I should have washed it a few times first to stop the bleeding!"
"No, vash it vonce in vinegar and it vould have been fine," Edna said. "You should never wear a red with that white! Ach, vat vill you do next?"
"I don't know!" Jennifer wailed. "I have a date tonight!"
Edna sighed. Foolishness. Then an idea struck her. "Jennifer, how vould you like a new dress?"
"Oh don't be silly, Edna! Daddy doesn't send me the check until the end of the month and I've already spent my money!"
"No, dumkfop! Not a useless premade thing that you'll hate in two days!" Edna said angrily. "Stupid girl!" Edna hesitated a moment. Jennifer didn't know her all consuming passion, she just thought she doodled pretty dresses. "Do you still have that blue fabric from the project you made last semester?"
"Tons of it, I really didn't need so much at all."
Edna smiled grimly. "It has found its purpose." She showed Jennifer the sketch.
"Edna! You- you can't be serious! My date is in three hours!"
"Then you'd better give me your measurements quickly!"
"I know you like to doodle, but do you really think..."
"I don't think, I know," Edna snapped. "Do not insult me further! Give it to me and I'll see you in two and a half hours. And fix your makeup!"
Luckily, in the material, as in everything else in Jennifer's wardrobe, no expense had been spared. Luckily, Edna's sewing machine had just been to the shop for refitting. Luckily Tommy Smyth was fifteen minutes later than he had promised to be.
Jennifer twirled in front of her mirror. "Oh Edna! It's beautiful!"
"It ought to be," Edna sniffed. It was. It wasn't quite a dream in blue silk, more like a dream in blue cotton, but a good seamstress was a creative one.
"Oh it's gorgeous! And it fits me perfectly!"
The doorbell rang. "There's Tommy now! Edna, I can't thank you enough!" Jennifer said as she dashed to the door.
"No," Edna said quietly, too quietly for Jennifer to hear. "You can't thank me enough." Money might have been something, something she might use to buy more fabric, or accessories that she desperately needed, but what Edna wanted most, to be noticed, for it to be her, not Jennifer winging off to a night of dancing and laughing, was something that Jennifer could never give her. No one could. She stared at her dream in blue silk, incarnated in cotton and sighed. She decided to make an early night of it and re-read one of her favourite books 'Buttons and Zippers of the World'. But something wasn't quite right that night, she noticed as her vision blurred, even though her glasses were on. No amount of buttons could make her forget that she was not Jennifer and never would be.
To Be Continued?
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