Coleen McLoughlin: Passion for Fashion

HarperCollins Children’s Books

Cover Page

Title Page Coleen Style Queen Passion for Fashion HarperCollins Children’s Books

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Perfect Party Top

Acknowledgments

The Coleen Style Queen series:

Copyright

About the Publisher

Striking a pose, I winked at my reflection. A glittery eye winked back at me.

“Now that’s a great look,” I said to myself, pleased with the result. Not too much, just enough. Coleen, Queen of the Glitter Scene!

I turned up the radio and closed my eyes.

The music pumped and the glitterballs spun, dappling the dance floor with light. The girl flung back her long brown hair and swayed to the music. She could hear the whispers of the other dancers. Who was this mysterious beauty? Who did her make-up? And where did she get that fabulous outfit?

“Coleen!” my mum shouted up the stairs. “I hope you’re putting on your uniform! The bus goes in ten minutes!”

The dance scene fizzled away. I opened my eyes with a sigh and stared at my bedroom. It was Monday morning, and my uniform was still lying on the floor where I’d left it on Friday afternoon.

OK, so my excuse was this. Friday afternoon means one thing – total style for the whole weekend! I can’t wait to get out of the whole grey and blue vibe that is school uniform, open my wardrobe and choose something fantastic. And if my uniform stays on the floor – well, too bad.

“Coleen!” Mum shouted again. “The bus!”

Quick as a flash I pulled on my stuff. After tying my tie in the funky new knot I’d perfected last week (very skinny and tight), I slid down the banister, nearly trod on Rascal our dog and raced into the kitchen. With a quick one-two, I flipped two pieces of bread into the toaster, pulled the juice from the fridge and swigged.

“Urgh,” said my little sister Em from the other side of the table, wrinkling her freckly nose at me. “You’re gross, Coleen. Pour the juice into a glass, why don’t you?”

Em’s only seven. She can be quite cute, but has this annoying way of winding me up. As normal, her school shirt was hanging out of her skirt and she already had jam on her sweatshirt. You could vacuum Em twice a day and she’d still look a scruff. How could two sisters be so different?

“What is that on your eyelids?” Dad asked, halfway through sloshing his tea down his throat.

Oops. Make-up and school uniform is a big no-no. I try to be subtle, but I guess the glitter may have been a step too far.

“It’s just a bit…” I began.

“Upstairs and take it off,” Mum said wearily. “The bus had better be late this morning, is all I can say.”

I guess Coleen, Queen of the Glitter Scene would have to wait till I got in from school this afternoon.

So, this is me. Petite, brown hair, brown eyes. Sometimes I wish I was taller, but they say the best things come in small packages. My nose is cute, even if I say so myself. And I love playing around with clothes.

“Coleen always has something funky going on.” That’s what my best friend Mel would say. She and I have different tastes – some of her stuff is way too weird for me – but we know what looks hot and what does not. She’s lucky, because bright colours look brilliant on her dark skin.

“I wish I looked like you guys.” That’s my other best friend Lucy, by the way. I’m not boasting – she really says dumb stuff like that. I wish she wouldn’t. She’s completely cute, in a blonde, blue-eyed kind of way. It’s just she doesn’t know it. She plays it safe, fashion-wise. Beats me why. With her long legs and brilliant voice, she could be the ultimate rock chick.

The bus, amazingly, was late. Mel and Lucy had already got our usual seats.

“Nice pink eyelids, Coleen,” Mel said with a giggle. “Not.”

My eyelids were red-raw. That’s what comes of scrubbing off eyeshadow with a wet flannel in two seconds flat.

“How’s things, guys?” I asked, flopping down next to Lucy.

“Ben has a zit this morning,” Lucy told me. “It was really funny. He was acting like a big girl – totally gutted!”

My heart started bouncing around my stomach like a beach ball. It does that whenever Lucy’s brother gets mentioned. I couldn’t help gazing over where Ben was sitting with his mates Dave Sheekey and Ali Grover, a bit further down the bus. I could only see the back of his head and his gorgeous wide shoulders, but maybe – given the zit and all – it wasn’t such a bad thing that I couldn’t see his face. Plus I always blush when he looks at me. Gazing into your crush’s eyes is all very well, but not when the side effects include beetroot cheeks.

“Your brother is still a complete love god,” I sighed.

“Dream on, Coleen,” Mel snorted. “Like Lu’s big brother will ever take a Year Eight seriously!”

Mel was right. Ben Hanratty was Year Ten, and way out of my league. But hey, a Glitter Queen should aim for the stars, right? I closed my eyes, partly because I didn’t want to see Dave Sheekey sticking his finger up his nose in the seat opposite Ben, and partly because bus-time was dream-time.

She was back on the dance floor. The music was getting seriously funky. She felt like she could dance forever! The gorgeous little skirt she’d customised was spinning out as she moved, its sequins catching the reflections from the glitterballs. She opened her eyes and noticed the tall blond boy watching her from across the room. She smiled and beckoned him over…

“Earth to Coleen,” Mel hissed. “Tickling the chin of some invisible cat isn’t a good look. Especially when it’s pointing at a Certain Someone?”

I opened my eyes. My finger was beckoning for real. Even worse, it was beckoning in the direction of Dave Sheekey, whose mouth was wide open as he gawped at me.

The bus snorted and juddered to a halt outside school. Blushing bright red, I ran for the doors with Mel and Lucy howling with laughter behind me. Not a great way to start the week.

The playground at Hartley High was awash with blue and grey as we walked through the school gates.

“It’s so depressing,” I said, looking around. “How are our young minds supposed to develop with no colour or style in our daily lives?”

“We make do with what we have,” Mel said. “You have your choked-chicken tie thing going on, and I’ve got my kipper.” She fiddled with the fattest tie knot I’d ever seen. It looked pretty retro. “See?” she said. “We’re individuals already.”

“I tried your skinny knot this morning, Coleen,” Lucy said as we pushed through the double doors. “I nearly strangled myself with my tie. Ben had to cut it off and lend me his spare. I don’t know what I’m going to tell Mum.”

Me and Mel burst out laughing, and the three of us linked arms and headed down the corridor to our classroom.

First off was drama. Drama is my favourite class. Miss O’Neill teaches us, with the help of her assistant Miss Rodriguez. Miss O’Neill is great. Her clothes, however, are not. Today’s outfit was a right show. A mint-green and mud-brown swirly combo that did nothing for her complexion. Not that I’d ever dream of saying anything to her. Teachers can’t help it, can they?

“Push the desks across the room please,” said Miss O’Neill, clapping her hands to get our attention. “We need plenty of space today.”