Playing for Julia by Annie Carroll Page A

hour later David walks into our office and drops a newspaper—or is it a magazine—on Dan’s desk.
    “Have you seen this?” David asks.
    Dan shakes his head and opens the paper.
    “I don’t know who’s putting up the money for it. The editors are two women I think I heard of in New York.  I didn’t even know they were out here.”  David continues, and hands a copy to me.  “I wonder if it is self-financed.”
    It is a fashion magazine printed on newsprint, not glossy paper stock.  The masthead reads Rags . The photos are not from glamorous fashion salons of New York and Paris, but of young women here in San Francisco—photos of street fashion.  I turn the pages, looking at the photos and reading the captions beneath them. This is fabulous!
    “What do you think of it?”  Dan asks me.
    “This is amazing.  I love it.  I’ve never seen a magazine about street fashions before. Never. Ali is going to go crazy when she sees this.  She loves street fashion—well, she loves all fashion.”
    “Look at page 7.”  David says to me , a small smile on his face.
    I turn to page 7.  There is a photo of Austen and me outside the Fillmore.  The caption under it reads:  The New Romantic Look.  Soft, drifting layers and a long flowing skirt create a new romantic style called, in Los Angeles, the Ladies of Laurel Canyon look.  Here, seen on the girlfriend of rocker Austen Raneley.
    I screw up my mouth.  I’m not sure I like this.
    “I take it from that look on your face that you don’t like that photo.”  Dan observes.
    “I don’t know…it feels like someone has sneaked up on my life… I remember when the photo was taken. No one asked me, asked us...we were leaving the Fillmore, but…well, I guess it’s done now.  And the magazine is great.  May I keep this copy?  I want to show Ali.”
    “ Of course,” David says. “Now you have your local women’s magazine, Julia.  Not women’s lib, but definitely targeted to young women.  Enjoy it.  I’m not sure how long it is going to last.  There are not many ads in it.  They are going to need a lot more if they want to continue publishing.”
    That evening , as expected, Ali goes crazy when she sees Rags .
    “I love it, I love it, I love it.  I should be working for Rags instead of writing want ads for people at the Examiner. ”
    I tell her to look at page 7.  She does , reads the caption then looks at me.
    “ ‘Ladies of Laurel Canyon?’ I put together that outfit.  Me. That caption should read ‘Lady of the Richmond District’ in San Francisco.  This is so unfair.  Ohhhh…why am I stuck at the Examiner ?”
    “Because it is a steady job that provides a paycheck regularly,” I retort.  “David and Dan think it probably won’t survive very long.   David said they don’t have nearly enough advertising to last.”
    “How could it not survive?  It is wonderful. Julia, they probably said that to you because they don’t want you to leave Voices and go over to Rags .  I know it’s going to be a success.  It has to be.  It’s fabulous.  I would love to work for them.”
    I shake my head at her and go to the kitchen to fix dinner.
    “How about dinner now?”  I ask, deciding that it’s time to change the subject, although I know I will hear about Rags all evening from her.
    In the refrigerator I find some hamburger and some left over boiled potatoes.  I put the frying pan on the stove; I can sauté hamburger patties and pan-fry the potatoes for us.  Ali pours two glasses of rosé wine and starts making a salad.
     
    * * *
    A usten calls on Monday.
    “Hi.  How are things going down there?”
    “Better. We’re finally getting some tracks down. Tommy showed up on time for once.”
    “That’s good.”
    He is quiet for a moment.  “I miss you.  I want your warm little body in my bed, but I don’t think I will be able to come up there this weekend, Julia.  We’re planning to keep working straight