Cupcakes and Glitter Shakes. Lisa Clark
>LOLA LOVE
Cupcakes
and
glitter shakes
By
Lisa Clark
Cupcakes and glitter shakes to:
The Man — mwooah? x
Team Lola — especially Darley, Zoe and Lindsey, for continuing to make my dreams come true!
Team Lolasland.com — Sophie — for ‘getting it’ and for being awesome — you rock and rule and Clive, Laura,
Tom and Zoe for making magic happen!
Julie — for giving me inside info, for being a kick-ass cheerleader and the coolest pen-pal ever!
Christoff and Keithster o’ FF — for being my BBF — best boys forevz and for my secret giftie — made finishing
this book so sweet!
Carla and Nadia — for being so super-fab and supportive and sending me the cutest notebook in which all
the notes for this book were written — cheers chicas!
The Pink Ladies who read the books and write fabulous-o emails and Letters to Lola and I-you’re amazing!
Table of Contents
“Bella,” I say as calmly as I possibly can, “can you come reread this for me please, I think there’s a chance I might be dreaming!”
Pink Lady Bella crawls across my pink bedspread and rests her head on my shoulder. She mutters the words as she reads from the screen, and when she gets to the end, she lets out a really loud squeal in my ear.
“Lo, Lo—the ed of Missy magazine has just asked you to go be her intern—this is huge, this is may-jah!” she says, doing a stompy boot dance in honour of quite possibly the best news I’ve ever had.
So, I wasn’t dreaming.
Bella had just confirmed it.
The ed-girl—my idol-girl—of my most favourite magazine, Missy, has asked me to be an intern.
What did I go and do so right to deserve this?!
And um…more importantly than that I guess, what was an intern?
“It’s what Americans call work-experience, Lola!” Bella informs me, when I ask her. Which makes sense because like Bella, Tori Frankel—ed girl extraordinaire, is an American-o too.
“I thought that’s what it meant!” I say, which isn’t altogether true, which is why I asked. You should never be afraid to ask questions, y’know, no matter how silly they seem, because imagine if ‘internship’ meant something completely different like, I don’t know, eat maggots or clean toilets. If I hadn’t asked, I could have arrived on the first day and been in for a complete icky shock.
This was a BIG deal.
Missy magazine was my most favourite magazine and while I didn’t want to pester ed-girl Tori Frankel, after I met her, I thought it would be crazy not to take the opportunity to keep in contact—so I emailed her. I emailed her a copy of my new zine and I thought up lots of cool ideas for Missy, just so she knew I was serious about it. I even made a mood board to go with the ideas—cutting out pictures and words and colour schemes that went with them—it took me ages, but it didn’t matter.
If it meant I got to work at Missy Magazine, one of the only magazines in magazine-y world that doesn’t get all hung up on body bits and instead writes about cool stuff like, 15 year old girls doing kick-ass things with their lives, and fashion shoots with real-sized girls, then it would be worth it. I know I do my own thing with my own zine, which I love, but I want to learn all about how a real magazine works so that when I’m ready, I can make my magazine the best magazine in the world ever.
My computer pings again. Bella and I both rush to the screen in anticipation. It’s my Aunt Lullah. When she lived here, and not in swanksville New York, city of my dreams, we always used to joke that she wasn’t really my auntie and that she was actually my psychic sister and it turns out she really is (psychic that is, not my sister, coz that would just be weird) because I really wanted