Homeless women get makeovers and new outfits

Marlice Marsh rifled through the skirts, blouses and jackets hanging on the tightly packed racks.

"I think I want a dress," she told her chaperone. "I was raised wearing dresses going to school. They make me feel good."

She found one, a plain black cotton number, and a black wool jacket to go with it.

"I lost some weight," the 36-year-old said shyly, "so I don't know exactly what size I wear.

"I think I need a size 16 or 18," she said, looking down at her frame, which was no larger than a 10 or 12.

The new clothes were the beginning of a four-hour transformation yesterday for Marsh and about 250 other homeless women from shelters throughout the region who, with the help of an army of 200 volunteers, were made Queen for a Day.

Embassy Suites in Lynnwood converted its lobby, banquet rooms, hallways, walkways — all donated space — into a studio for the homeless women, who came from shelters throughout King, Skagit and Snohomish counties.

In addition to the new outfits, they received facial makeovers, new hairstyles, massages, manicures and pedicures. The day for them was capped with a five-course catered dinner, entertainment and a ceremony in which they were given roses.

Life Changes Ministry of Everett has been hosting the event for the past four years as a way to give women down on their luck a new outlook on life, director Judy Hoff said.

"It's not just about being cute; it's about giving these women the tools for self-sufficiency," Hoff said. A pastor and counselor, she came up with the idea while driving with her daughter to a hair appointment in Seattle four years ago.

Hoff's ministry remains in touch with the women after the program ends to make sure they get the help they need. She boasts about the success stories — those who found and kept jobs, those who were able to regain custody of their children.

Red-carpet treatment

From the moment they walk down a red carpet leading to the doors of the hotel lobby on the arms of sailors from Naval Station Everett, the women are royally pampered, waited on and catered to.

Volunteers line the path, applauding them.

Wearing jeans and a well-worn T-shirt, Marsh held her head high as she was escorted through the doors.

"It's wonderful what they're doing," she said, looking around at the racks of clothing, the lines of shoes.

Marsh said she was going for "a conservative look — for the holidays, maybe taking family portraits with my son."

"This would be my third dress-up outfit," she said. "Of course, everything has to coordinate."

Getting back on track

Coordinating outfits has hardly been a priority for Marsh lately.

She has been living at the Seattle Union Gospel Mission's Women and Family Shelter in the Chinatown International District for several weeks after spending the past year in jail on drug-related charges.

"I'd been in and out of the system," she said, until through religion she found the will to turn her life around. "Now I want to get my life back on track."

Her chaperone, Darlene Barnes, understands.

Two years ago, struggling with drug addiction that ripped her marriage apart and cost her custody of her two daughters, Barnes was treated as Queen for a Day.

She now works at a Greek restaurant in Marysville — a job she found after the program — and lives in transitional housing that Hoff's ministry operates. "Some of these women haven't been shopping in a long time," she said. "It's nice for them to get this pampering."

Marsh beamed as a make-up artist applied Mary Kay foundation to her skin, lined her eyes and applied blush to her cheeks and color to her lips.

"I don't have anyone in my life to dress up for," she said. "But I like to look nice when I go to see my son."

Marsh's son has become a key focus in her life.

Eventually, she wants to go back to school so she can build a career in the construction field. Ultimately, she wants to regain custody of 10-year-old Gabino, now living with foster parents in Bellevue.

She sees him weekly and talks to him by phone more often.

"I want to have a better relationship with him," Marsh said, "than I had with my mom," who died of cirrhosis of the liver at age 36. "He keeps me focused," she said.

Lornet Turnbull: 206-464-2420