A Real Cinderella Story
So... this is me before. Yah. I know. Pretty bad shape. Over plucked eyebrows, bad make-up, butchered hair cut, dry and frizzy hair, tattoos on my ears, and well, just plain dirty. I even had tattoos on the soles of my feet in permanent ink, but I won't show you those. You might have nightmares.


So, I sent in my photos and was chosen for a make-over!

Their first step seemed highly unconventional: They shaved my head and my eyebrows, removed my make-up, and scrubbed me from top to bottom.
Here I am bald and bland: a blank canvas.
Next, I was led into the make-up studio, where I was assigned to a doll artist.
She asked me who, if I could look like anyone, would I want be? Without even thinking, I exclaimed, "Why, Lilly James, of course! Who doesn't want to be Cinderella?"

She looked at me thoughtfully for a moment before nodding her head and musing, "yes... mmhmm... yes. That will work."
Then she smiled at me. A big, intense smile.
I started to feel uneasy.


With that she twirled me around and set me back in the make-up chair. I don't know what she did, but it tickled.
An hour later I was escorted to the tailor shop, where gorgeous fabrics were draped all over the shelves and furniture. "Blue," I said simply, but emphatically. The dressmaker nodded at me and turned towards her machine.
Hours passed as I waited patiently in the lounge.
Finally, I was called in for a fitting. The petticoat was so exciting, I thought it was the dress at first. "No, silly. That is just the petticoat. It goes under the dress for body. Here is the gown."


"Why, I'm Cinderella!" I cried in delight. Smiling knowingly, she simply replied, "Yes. Yes, you are."
I was led out of the studio to a waiting limousine. The door was held open by a man in a tuxedo suit and I stepped in, my silver slippers catching the sunlight for a second before they reached the carpeted floor of the limo. I gathered up my many layered skirts and entered my carriage.

"The what?" I asked anxiously, sweat forming on my brow. I hadn't expected this. I had signed up for a make-over, not a modelling contract.

Noticing the change in my demeanour, she raised her eyebrows. "Why yes, Cinderella, we are. Do you like the country?" "Oh, I do!" I responded enthusiastically, my eyes glued to the passing scenery outside the window. I didn't even flinch when she called me Cinderella. I was beginning to feel like her.
At last we arrived, and I flung open the door before the attendant could come around to my side. Gathering my skirts once more, I slid off the seat and stepped out the door. The air was so fresh.



I couldn't resist. I had to. With an exclamation of delight, I took off running into the meadow, my skirts gathered up in my arms, and my train swishing in the tall grass behind me.
I felt so alive. I heard voices calling behind me, but I didn't turn to look. I ran and ran until I could run no further. I collapsed into the tall grass and looked up into the blue sky.
This was heaven.


Flash. Click. Flash. Flash. Click. Click. I sat up. I was surrounded by photographers.
"Work it, baby!" said one. Blushing up to my forehead I stood up quickly and began to walk away, towards the cliff face and forest edge. "Thats right. Keep it up. You are a natural!"


I suddenly turned to look my pursuers in the eye. They took a step back before regaining their composure. I heard gasps and a low whistle. Someone murmered, "Just beautiful." "Another said, "Stunning."
I almost lost my composure again when the foremost photographer, standing just a few feet away from me, looked me right back in the eye and said simply, "Wow."

For the next hour, I played and teased the cameras, enjoying the attention. This was my moment, my time. I felt more beautiful than I have ever felt, even when I was brand new in the box. Something magical had indeed happened.
I had gone from being an ugly duckling to a glorious swan! Elegant and poised, I wandered through the meadow, ascended the rocky heights, and looked out over the luscious countryside, followed by a hoard of admiring photographers who captured my beauty for all the world to see.




I was, after all, Cinderella, and this was my moment.
There was indeed a feast spread out on the elegantly decorated tables, and a lovely blue tiered cake that commanded special attention. On it was the number five, for this ball was held in honour of the fifth birthday of the palace princess.





When I finally set foot in the ballroom, the crowd parted, and my eyes locked on the little girl across the room. Also dressed in blue, she couldn't take her big brown eyes off me. As we came closer to together, she suddenly swept me off my feet and pulled me to herself.



Looking back at the little girl, a sudden burst of recognition caused the flood of pride that had filled my soul the past couple hours to begin to trickle out, like a leak in a glass cup. I knew this little girl, and what was more, she knew me.

Bella. It was she who loved me before I was Cinderella.
It was she who cared for me and played with me while my hair was yet frizzy and my skin was still covered in dirt.
She never complained about my eyebrows or garish make-up. She loved me just as I was.
And here she was again; by the look in her eyes, she still loved me.

Warmth filled my heart. I was home, I was me, and I was loved.
And everything was beautiful.

The end.
*dress pattern for doll purchased from Pixie Faire