I was stuck in the Remake Center with the most horrible prep team ever.  They want to see me first, before the stylist does.  So he (or she, I don't know) lets them.  It's only been a hour, but I'm already disgusted.  Really, really disgusted.  The first thing they did when they saw me was gasp and swear under their breaths.  

Right when I was put into their hands, they acted as if I wasn't there.  The only things they did were complain.  They complained about my hair, my leg, all of my faults.  When a woman named Cilo tried to straighten my hair, missed, and burned my ear, she just smiled and chirped in her silly, mocking accent, "Well, there's no harm done, at least!"

The others started talking at once, saying stuff like, "I'm SO glad you can't tell!", "Imagine how EMBARRASSING we'd look if it did!", "Well, this IS District Eleven!", and "I CANNOT believe we're stuck with her!".  They ranted on and on about why anyone in their right minds would place them in District Eleven.  Someone named Trite said, 'At LEAST this isn't District Twelve!"  

They spent nearly all of the Remaking time gossiping.  When I only had thirty minutes left, they practically dragged me to a mirror and said, "Ta-da!"  I was completely disgusted.  My hair was dyed orange and my skin was purple.  My eyes were somehow baby blue.  I looked ridiculous!  Just like Trite and the rest of the prep team.

Just then, a man that I assumed was my stylist came in and stared at me.  He looked at the prep team.  "What have you done?!  Get out NOW."  They left, muttering to each other how unappreciated their work was.  When my stylist checked that they were gone, he bowed politely to me.  "I am Kristopher Carol, your stylist.  Sorry about them.  They're a bunch of idiots."  I nodded, "Complete idiots."  Kristopher said, "Oh, call me Kirsti."  Then he pulled up a stool next to me and set to work without a word.

The first thing he did was wash away all of the prep team's "fabulous" work.  Then he scrubbed me down with a gritty loam, but was careful so that he only removed the dirt, not about three layers of skin like my prep team tried to do.  Then he turned my nails into oval shapes and shaved off my leg, arm, underarms, torso, and parts of my eyebrow hair.  

He gave me some plain white undergarments and looked away politely as I put them on.  Then he got me dressed into a silky blue shirt with what looked like overalls, but a dress.  He put on a wreath of silver leaves over my head.  I looked into the mirror.  It was breathtaking.  "Thank you, Kirsti!  Thank you so much!"  I ran over and hugged him, and he hugged me back.  He did all that in less than thirty minutes with time to spare.

When I saw Thresh, I noticed we were dressed kind-of alike.  He wore a white shirt with overalls.  He had the wreath of what I was told was grain on, too.  Finally, the chariots were all ready and it began.