“I'll go shopping with you,” said Rose. Jackie Kennedy was currently wowing the country with her sleek Oleg Cassini A-line shifts and gowns, and Rose had taken the president's young wife as her own fashion role model. But remaking Lu into Jackie's mold wasn't as easy as she'd thought it was going to be. The trick to simple little A-line frocks was, they had to fit perfectly or they looked like little A-line sacks. Lu's small body was very curvy: a dress that fitted her bust sagged at her waist, one that hugged her hips gapped at the top. And then there was the question of color; white made Lu look washed out, black made her look dead, and her beloved pink made her look like a pastry. Lu and Rose went from Best and Co., to Bergdorf Goodman's, to Saks Fifth Avenue, and to Lord and Taylor, with no luck. And it soon became clear that Lu's famous perseverance did not extend to clothes shopping.

“This is good enough,” she moaned when she had tried on her fourteenth Jackie Kennedy-esque gown.

“It's about half an inch too big under the arms,” Rose said.

“We'll bring it to the tailor.”

Rose shook her head. “If you have it taken in, the seams won't be right.”

“Does half an inch make such a big difference?”

“It's not a costume, Mother. It has to look good up close. And the color is wrong.”

“How can beige be wrong?”

“It's making you look beige.”

“How about pink? I like pink.”

“Do you remember the Big Bo Peep dress?”

Lu moaned again. “This is such a waste of time!”

Rose, who could spend months finding just the right pair of shoes, shook her head.

They never did find a dress that met Rose's exacting standards, so they had it made. Rose pieced together a rough design from three Vogue patterns, they purchased a coppery brown satin that was the exact shade of Lu's hair, and then they took everything to a dressmaker known for her society clients. The finished gown had a narrow skirt, sleek lines, and no ruffles. Just lying in the box it exuded glamour and class. Lu was so pleased that she hugged Rose, who gave her a quick hug back. It wasn't exactly the kind of warm mother-and-daughter moment the women's magazines were always writing about, but for them it was a real step forward. “Thank you, Rose,” Lu whispered, and they both knew she was talking about a lot more than an evening gown.

In a gesture of further goodwill, Rose offered to help Miss Pearl address the invitations for Lu's party. Her mother was inviting seventy people, among them her agent, her producer, and George. Rose decided she wanted to invite Bobby.