The Johnny Walker Black Label and Channel No. 5 ads were perfect. They both had the sought-after backgrounds. I preferred the Channel No. 5 ads. Often with a photo of a woman wearing a stunning black dress and classic gold earrings, and holding the glass bottle of the renown golden liquid, the ad exuded elegance. My sister would be pleased with the large expanse of solid black gloss.
Leafing through the stack of magazines was a favourite past-time for a lazy Sunday afternoon. I liked to see myself as my sister’s assistant in the creation of one of the next fashion statements for her paper doll collection. Once I found the ads with the most potential, I set the magazine aside.
I marveled watching my sister as she practiced drawing figures on paper, adjusting the lines to ensure the model had the appropriate proportions, the pose, and the swooped, bouffant hairstyles of the day. Once refined to her satisfaction, my sister would copy these onto the cardboard saved from Mom’s hosiery packages. She would then draw in and colour the hair and facial features, complete with riveting eyes, arched eyebrows, high cheek bones and sensuous lips. By this time, more often than not, Noreen had a name for this latest paper doll, perhaps Veronique.
And then the fun part began, those blocks of solid colours, patterns and textures from the magazine ads would trigger my sister’s creativity and inspire her to design a wardrobe befitting the character, profession and interests of this doll.
If one of the fashion piece designs called for the black glossy background of Channel No.5, we were compelled to pause, regroup and strategize the necessary next step, seeking approval from Mom to remove another page from her well-guarded magazines. My sister would lead, bravely approaching Mom with the proposal to remove this particular page. With sketches in hand, she would describe the design, how it fit into the overall wardrobe scheme, and offered reassurance that the glossy black material would not be wasted. Mom would listen attentively and examine the page to be removed with the diligence common to forensic accountants, ensuring that no text of importance was on the reverse side. Sometimes, I was called on to help sway Mom’s expected initial response.
After what seemed like hours, Mom would approve with a twinkle in her eye.
Word count: 392