Rainbow Runway Ready Origin Story
Carl the Flamingo was stoked to get a backstage invitation to New York Fashion Week by his good friend Reginald the Unicorn, a top fashion model.
He found himself in a hive of activity backstage. Every corner was abuzz with industry professionals. The makeup artists chatted with gorgeous creatures as they artfully painted their faces to complement the clothing designs perfectly. Hair stylists teased, twisted, and coiffed the models' hair into glamorously absurd styles to top off the overall looks. The air was filled with a symphony of sounds—the buzz of conversations, the low hum of hairdryers, the swish of voluminous evening dresses, and the clickety-clack of high heels on the floor. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation.
Carl had just spotted Reginald’s massive equine caboose parked in a director’s chair. She was getting her makeup done. He was about to say ‘hello’ when iconic fashion designer, Rainbeau, frantically appeared.
“Where the hell is [redacted]?! I know that ungrateful wench said she won’t get out of bed for less than $10,000 a day, but she owes me a favor for landing her that perfume contract, and she SWORE she would be here! Damnit, she’s supposed to be wearing the showstopper! This is the last time I cast that ungrateful primadonna!!!” She fumed. Her beet-red face looked like it was going to explode. She glanced quizzically at Carl.
“YOU!” She snapped her fingers aggressively in Carl’s direction. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” Before Carl could answer, she continued, “You about a size 2? You would be PERFECT in this look!” She asserted, draping a sheer, avant-garde evening gown over her forearm to show it to him.
Carl looked around in disbelief, then pointed at himself and said, “Who, me?! But I don’t have any modeling experience! Plus, that dress is completely see-through! Everyone will see my naughty bits!”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It has a pair of nude rhinestoned panties that go underneath it. C’mon, you would be FABULOUS, darling! Trust me. You’ve got the look. Half of these models would kill to look like you…”
Reginald sauntered over, oozing allure in her glittering runway look. “Yassss! Come on, Carl, it’ll be SO fun!!! You got this.” She reassured him.
“Oh, all right! I’ll do it!” Carl relented, secretly overjoyed by the attention.
“GREAT!!! Let’s get you Rainbeau runway ready!” Rainbeau dragged him over to a chair to get his makeup and hair (ok, technically, feathers) done…
A short while later, the models began to line up in formation. Loud techno music pulsed through the speakers, and a hush fell over the backstage area. On cue, the curtains opened, and the models began to strut out onto the runway with their signature stomps.
When it was his turn, Carl strutted down the catwalk with a commanding presence, pausing at the end to take a signature flamingo stance on one leg before grabbing the diaphanous skirt of his dress, giving a dramatic twirl, and practically prancing backstage. The audience went wild and gave him a standing ovation while he was showered with a dazzling display of flashbulbs going off. Rainbeau was so pleased that she walked hand in hand with Carl down the runway for the final walk as all of the other models walked in formation and clapped. Backstage after the show, several high-profile modeling agents were waiting for him to sign gajillion-dollar modeling contracts and gushing over his edgy, unique look.
“Carl? Earf to Carl! Whad are you doing wif that goofy look on your fathe?!” Turlana asked. She had a strange speech impediment thanks to a mouth full of cotton from her dental procedure. She was still wearing her paper trash necklace.
“Huh? Oh, nothing. I was just spacing out while reading this old fashion mag.” Carl put down the dog-eared copy of October ‘97 Vogue he’d found on the lobby coffee table. “Why don’t these places ever update their magazine selection?! You know…I think we should make a pair of clear cat-eye frames with rainbow reflective lenses and pink inserts! We’ll call them Rainbow Runway Ready!”
“That’th nithe Carl. Can you pay the bill pleathe? I’m ready to go home…”
Carl paid the bill. “Wait here, hun. I’ll bring the car around.” Unfortunately, Carl was so excited about his new idea to make these rainbow-licious Glam Gs he forgot all about Turlana and drove straight to goodr in his pink convertible Excalibur to get the product team working on them. (OK, he may have made a pitstop to pick up a sheer, avant-garde evening gown with nude rhinestoned panties on the way to the office, which he changed into in a DQ parking lot, where he also treated himself to a cone with rainbow sprinkles.)
