There has been no living with Theodora since she heard about a mannequin who was so famous in the 1930s that she made the cover of Life magazine.
Great. Now my model has a role model.
Cynthia, the star mannequin of the 1930s
Theodora got particularly excited when she learned that Cynthia, as this single-named celeb was known, was invited to the wedding of Wallis Simpson and Edward VIII, the Duke and Duchess of Windsor.
Now she has an eye (so to speak) on all the upcoming royal nuptials. And no one likes dressing for a posh wedding more than Theodora.
Inspired by Cynthia, her demands don’t end there. She wants to be featured more on the blog and in Instagram as part of her own “personal branding” campaign.
She wants to do more selfies with the clients, which is tricky since she lacks arms.
I fear that I may have created a monster. Good thing I’m too much of an introvert to act as her publicist.
But it does make me wonder what made Cynthia’s minders take a publicity stunt to such great lengths? Her inventor was trying to sell customers on these new oh-so-realistic mannequins and so he gave her a fake real life. She had a newspaper column and a radio show (despite her chronic laryngitis she was said to have been a good listener). And Saks even gave her a credit card!
What were they all thinking?
Maybe Cynthia was a nagger? Theodora certainly is. Which is why you will find her at my Oct. 25 and 26 trunk show at the Granville Island Hotel, angling for attention. She makes a good case that without her modelling, it’s hard to see how you can extend your own necklace wardrobe by layering single strands into scene-stealing statement necklaces. But I warned her that if she nags anyone to do selfies with her, she’s going home.
Really, I’m not sure how much I should indulge Theodora on this?
Then again, if Theodora is willing to take over my often-neglected social media, maybe I should just let her have the Instagram account?