Eloise's porter

Eloise went into her closet to pick a pair among her hundred pairs of shoes. 100 x 2 = 200 shoes. A pair of shoes equals a pound. Her shoes weighed 100 pounds. She admired them in their mound on the floor of the walk-in: Glossy red, tawny orange, forest green, metallic gray, black, brown, ivory, pointed toes, square heeled, tall boots, ankle boots, patent leather, suede. Eloise wore a 7AA.

Eloise picked her favorite pair of blue jeans; a long-torsoed embroidered white blouse with satin blue ribbon; a delicate pale pink and white underwire bra and panty set; and matte royal blue low-heeled pumps. She assembled herself without difficulty and threaded the jeans with a narrow alligator belt. Voila!

Her clear, smooth skin was too pure to need make-up, yet everyday she hesitated near the mirror: There were people who rejected a woman’s face unless it was camouflaged. She wore mascara and as with her fetish for shoes and boots, she fetishized mascara colors, what few there were. Navy blue Chanel, she selected. Sheer plum lipgloss to vaunt her pearly whites.

Eloise’s hair was in arrears. It was brave straw sprouting from a vase. Her forebears had owned slaves.