Chapter<br > One<br >Sister<br >ANNV ALLOWAY WALKED down University Place through the<br >polluted golden haze of Indian summer in New York City. She<br >was headed， she suspected， for the most important lunch of her<br >life. At one o clock she was due at the Charcuterie to meet the<br >managing editor of a newspaper. And some paper--Downtown.<br >Gadfly to the powerful and corrupt， creator of the New Jour-<br >nalism， mouthpiece of feminism， a ragout peppered with four-<br >letter words. Downtown was the country s hottest weekly. It<br >had launched many a star into orbit. It also paid writers shit.<br >Never mind， why niggle over nickels when about to get discov-<br >ered?<br > Anxiously Anny paused before the window of Phil s Head<br >Shop to check out her image. Wrong， all wrong， she thought，<br >eyes tearing from the smog. The navy gabardine relic she d ex-<br > cavated from her closet， thinking to create the illusion of a pro-<br > fessi0nal， merely presented a woman in a time warp. Lunch<br > among the hip in 1973 called for Levi s， Frye boots， nipple-<br > noser chiffon. She tucked a rebel wisp into her pale crown of<br ><br >
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