"So...you can cancel my event. I don't know what to do. I'm so sorry for taking your time."

If my Botox were relaxed enough, my brows would be knitted. No doubt I still had a crease. I just shook my head instead, adjusting my phone to my ear. Heizou sounded absolutely devastated on the other end. It was almost afternoon, and I'd been waken up by his call. 

"No, we're not cancelling it. There's something that can be done, I'm sure of it."

Heizou just sighed deeply. "But, my dress maker won't make the dress. I told you, she thinks I'm too heavy for it. 'Too large', she said. She doesn't recommend the pencil shape of the skirt. She also said my arms being exposed wasn't a good idea. She said it wouldn't look nice. I suppose I should just look like a frumpy goon for the rest of-"

"You don't look like a frumpy goon! What are you talking about? Your outfits are elegance itself. You are ethereal. Don't ever say that about yourself!"

It was true. He embodied the 1950's and 60's all the time on stage. His hair was always flawless, beautiful elaborate styles that took forever to make that way. He did his wigs all himself, because he didn't trust anyone else. That took talent, and I sure knew it did. No doubt, he had a whole spectacular plan for the wig that went with this dress, too. There was no way I was going to let him get away with saying mean things about himself. 

"But then there's the shoes, too," he went on. "Where will I find them? My size is too large to find them easily. My dress maker usually dyes my shoes to match my dresses if my shoes aren't black. I should just wear another black, frumpy dres-"

"Ohh, I'm not going to let her get away with this. You've always had problems with her. The problem isn't you. She's always asking you to modify this and that, when you should get exactly what you want."

"I suppose-"

"No, I bet it's her own limitations. She can't make the pencil skirt of the dress work for you. Not the other way around. You'll look so beautiful in a pencil skirt shape. We'll get you some hips and the corset will be right, and you'll have a gorgeous hourglass shape to fill it out. I know it will work, because you've done a mermaid style dress before. This is just that with no flared part at the bottom."

"It's more than that-"

"No. Go to my dress maker. Her name is Miyuki. I know I told you about her before. She's in a suburb, kind of out of the way I know, but she's like us. She understands. She used to be a queen herself. She knows what it takes. Don't worry about someone outside of our community who tells you no. There is always a way. She also specializes in vintage clothing. She is perfect for you."

I knew what was coming, however. We'd talked together about my dress maker before. I was prepared, though, this time. There was no way I'd let Heizou's dress maker win. This was the last straw. I'd heard about these sorts of problems before with her, and telling my friend that he was too heavy for a dress was the last time.

Just another deep sigh. "No. She's too expensive for me. I respect her a lot. She's expensive, because she uses the correct materials. I always admire your clothes. She uses the highest quality. She isn't making costumes, she's making the real thing. That's why you always look so good. But, I can't afford her. I'll just have to...wear something else. I can't be Misora-san-"

"Yes, you can. You can be Misora-san. I've already dreamed of you performing dressed as her on my stage. You can't take my dream away. You're going to float up there just like her in that movie, with your blue shawl."

"Ohh, even the blue shawl is expensive. That fabric. I can't-"

My hand went to my chest. Not caring about anything else. Lending to my vision of him on stage was Yuki in the living room off the kitchen where I was, currently playing Yvonne Printemps' "Je t'aime quand meme". Yvonne Printemps was a movie star in French cinema very similar to Misora-san in ours. He was playing her music so easily, embodying her spirit. Why should it be hard for Heizou to embody Misora-san's? All it would take is a dress. A dress. That was the barrier? Such a thing. I wouldn't allow it to be a barrier, if my friend wanted to be Misora-san. 

I interrupted him quickly again. Not allowing him to insult himself. "I'll help you pay for the dress. Then, you can see Miyuki-chan. This won't happen again. You should have seen her years ago. She's the perfect person for you. She'll give you real 1950's dresses, not the costumes your dress maker subjects you to. You deserve to wear the real thing. Don't say you don't."

"Oh, but..." 

I could tell he was getting emotional. I gave him time to. My hand was still on my chest, my own eyes warm. Heizou deserved even more than this. I couldn't stand anyone being mean or insulting to him. His dress maker had no right to tell him no. Heizou was doing so much good in the world, making everyone smile and remember nostalgic memories. It's all he wanted to do, and he'd do it full time if he were more popular and could get out there more. Well, why couldn't he? I had a venue. Things had downturned for all of us during covid, but covid restrictions were over now. The pandemic was officially over. There was no reason to limit his activities if I had a venue. 

He sniffled lightly, but I heard it. He was definitely trying to hide it. "Thank you, but that won't be necessary. I can perform in a different dress. I have a black thing that I can... It covers my body, so..." More sniffling. 

"Good-bye, Heizou. I'm calling Miyuki now. I have to tell her about my friend who wants to be Misora-san from 'Janken Musume' and ask her to make the dress."

A huge gasp from him. Good. 

"Tatara! Wait! But-!"

I removed the phone quickly from my ear and hung up. Not willing to hear his protests. No more insulting himself. As I hung up, I was grinning. 

I didn't care how much it would cost. I would eat that cost. The dress wasn't elaborate anyway. The most expensive part would be the material, and for sure Miyuki would look up exactly which material the original dress was made of and match it. She was so devoted to her craft, especially when it came to vintage. Heizou would never have to cry again over a dress. He'd never be told he was too large or too tall, or anything. It matters to have a dress maker who understands you, and Miyuki understood us. 

Just as I said I would, I began inputting Miyuki's number. She'd answer immediately, seeing it was me. 

As I pressed the phone to my ear again, I just kept smiling. I wasn't made of money, it was true. I'd just had to pay to fix our heating and electric at the bar the other day. But, this dress for Heizou was worth so much more than money. His joy was just worth so much more.