"You win," she muttered to Stephanie.
"Thank you" was the abrupt reply. "Now let's get to work."
They walked south, out of the Village.
"Richard likes long and slinky," Rune explained.
"Of course he does," Stephanie replied. "He's a man. He probably likes red and black bustiers and garters too." But she went on to explain patiently that a woman should never buy clothes for a man. She should buy clothes for herself, which will in turn make the man respect and desire her more.
"You think?"
"I know."
"Radical," Rune said.
Stephanie rolled her eyes and said, "We'll go for European."
"Richard's very French-looking. I'd like to get him to change his name."
"To what?"
"It was Francois. Now I'm leaning toward Jean-Paul."
"What does he think about that?"
"Haven't told him. I'm going to wait a few weeks."
"Wise."
SoHo, the former warehouse and manufacturing district adjoining Greenwich Village, was just becoming chic. The area used to be a bastion of artists-in-residence-- working painters and sculptors, who were the only people who could legally live in the neighborhood under the city zoning code. But while the city granted permits only to certified artists, it did nothing about controlling the cost of the huge lofts, and as the galleries and wine bars and boutiques moved into the commercial buildings, the residential prices skyrocketed into the hundreds of thousands.... It was funny how many lawyers and bankers suddenly found they had talent to paint and sculpt.
They passed one clothing store, painted stark white inside. Rune stopped abruptly and gazed at a black silk blouse.
"Love it."
"So do I," Stephanie agreed.
"Can we get it?"
"No."
"Why not? What's wrong with it?"
"See that tag? That's not the order number. That's the price."
"Four hundred and fifty dollars!"
"Come on, follow me. I know a little Spanish place up the street."
They turned off West Broadway onto Spring and walked into a store that Rune loved immediately because a large white bird sitting on a perch by the door said, "Hello, sucker," to them when they entered.
Rune looked around. She said, "I'm game. But it's not funky. It's not New Wave."
"It's not supposed to be."
After twenty minutes of careful assembly, Stephanie examined Rune with approval and only then allowed her to look in a mirror.
"Awesome," Rune whispered. "You're a magician."