Within a few minutes, I found myself slipping reasonably well into Marilyn's blue dress, being fitted with the blonde wig and finally forcing myself inside a pair of open-toed pumps which were at least three sizes too small for me.
"There now, that's step number one," pronounced Marilyn as she brushed away at the wig, finally observing that she had the curls arranged as she wanted them. "Already I see the real Denise emerging honey. Now I want you to sit down over there while we do a little work on your face."
With that, she had me in a chair to one side of the stool at her dressing table while she alternately worked with powder lipstick blusher and assorted pencils and sponges, talking to herself how this color was right and that one wasn't, while telling me that "we'd" have to do something "drastic' about my eyebrows, among other "improvements".