Grave Apparel (53 page)

Mac passed
by,
heading for a
coffee
refill.
Johnson shut his mouth and sidled on past. Mac detoured to
Lacey’s
desk,
eye
ing
Johnson’s
retreating back.

“Did
you
tell
Johnson
to
interrogate
the
whole
damned
staff?”

“Ha.
You
think
Peter
Johnson
would
do
anything
I
sug
gested?
Really,
Mac. No,
he’s
working
on his
own
theory.
The assailant is close to home.
He’s
one of us in the
office.
He’s
the monster among us. Or
it’s
the man in the moon, and he
wore
a Santa cap on Friday night. Could
even
be you,
Mac.”

Mac made guttural sounds in his throat. The
eyebrows
were threatening.
“And
what’s
your
theory,
Smithsonian?”

“I
know
less than
anyone
and you
want
my theory?” She stared at her computer screen. It
was
unhappily
empty.
“How
about,
it’s
deadline and I
don’t
have
a column?”

Mac sighed.
“You
got a topic?”

“I’m thinking about
it.”
She turned her attention to her
work
as he marched back to his
office.
The holiday season
was
loom ing
over
Lacey
like
an ominous thundercloud. There
was
too much to do; she
didn’t
even
have
time to do her laundry or go Christmas shopping or shop for
new
clothes, much less
make
the perfect dessert for
Vic’s
mom while
saving
Christmas for Cassandra and Felicity and a little girl in a
shepherd’s
robe. And a partridge in a pear tree. Besides, what on earth would
she
wear to go shopping?
Everything
she
owned
was
at the clean ers. Oh yeah, and she had a job to do.

Merry
Christmas.

Lacey
Smithsonian’s
F
A
S
H
I
O
N
B
I
T
E
S

It
’
s
a
n
Organizatio
n
T
own
,
Right? So
Get
Organized
for
the
Holidays!

The
holidays!
T
oo
much
to
do,
too
little
time?
Do
you
feel
like
the
last
broken
toy
in
the
bottom
of
the
stocking?
Paint
chipped,
smile
lopsided,
stockings
sagging,
wardrobe
that
makes
Raggedy
Ann
look
well
dressed?
Oh,
not
even that
good?

Has
your
closet
come
to
resemble
a
tossed
salad?
Does “grab bag” define your fashion statement? Maxed out your todo list in November and never caught up?
You’re
not alone. Feel like
it’s
the fortyfifth of December and you still haven’t
started
your Christmas
shopping?
Wish a genie would pop out of a lamp
every
morning and hand you a giant Ziploc bag with your outfit of the
day?
Me
too.

How
do
they
do
it,
those
elegantly
garbed
and
groomed
women
you
see
on
Wisconsin
Avenue?
They
have
help,
obviously.
They
have
chauffeurs
and
cooks
and
housekeepers
and
wardrobe
consultants.
Or
else
they
don’
t
have
jobs
or
kids.
Or
their
kids
have
chauffeurs
and
cooks
and
housekeepers
and
wardrobe
consultants. So
how
do
we,
ordinary
W
ashington
women
that
we
are,
get
to
be
as
put
together
as
they
are?

Simple.
W
e
resor
t
to
the
ordinary
W
ashington
woman’s
bag
of
tricks.
This
is
an
organization
town.
Whether
W
ashington
ever
gets
anything
done
may
be
a
debate
for
the
historians,
but
at
least
we
are
organized.
Apply
those
organizational
skills
to
your
wardrobe.
After
all,
you’re
a
W
ashington
woman!
You
can
shine
at
the

breakfast
meeting,
power
through
that
ten
a.m.
presenta
tion,
wipe
out
six
errands
at
lunch,
smile
through
the
board
meeting,
and
still
glow
tonight
at
the
cocktail
par
ty.
Right?

So
what’
s
so
difficult
about
penciling
in
your
basic
black
suit
and
red
silk
blouse
for
Monday
,
and
the
chocolate
slacks
and
twin
set
and
pearls
for
T
uesday?
You’re
already
planning
ahead
for
meetings,
appointments,
events,
enter
tainment.
Why
not
plan
ahead
for
the
outfits
that
best
suit
them
all?
Your
tools
are
already
at
hand,
whether
fountain
pen
and
paper
or
digital,
DayTimer
or
BlackBerry.
Some
women
plan
a
weekly
dinner
menu
for
twenty.
You
just
have
to
plan
the
weekly
wardrobe
menu
for
one:
you.

Some
examples
to
kick
off
your
plan
for
the
week:

Plan ahead!
You’re
already planning the events,
so
strategize your looks to suit. Create comfortable and styl ish outfits for those meetings and parties and shopping
trips,
so
you
won’t
have
to
reach
into
that
lastminute
grab bag called your closet.

Finally,
if all else fails, take a tip from
W
onder
W
oman
and switch to Plan B: Be strong, be brave, and
don’
t
for get your bulletproof bracelets. They’ll never let you down.

It
was
a drizzly December day in the Capital
City,
cold enough to make people want to
burrow
inside, dreaming of a
white
Christmas, hoping for a
snowstorm
to shut the city
down
and
give
them an unplanned day
off.
However,
snowstorms
didn’t
count at
The
Eye
Street
Observer
.
News
never
takes
a day
off,
and
newspapers
do
not
close
for
the
weather.
Every
winter, management
would
send a memo reminding
staff
of the
“We
never
close”
policy.