Indy's Women: The American Film Institute Tribute Page #3
- Year:
- 2008
- 9 min
- 34 Views
So, what are you saying?
You wanna tell Mary?
Of course not, but she's talking
Oh, this is very dangerous, Sylvie.
What if the story isn't true?
How much can you trust a manicurist?
Oh, they know everything.
Manicurists and florists.
It's frightening how much information
those people are carrying.
I don't think we should say anything.
It could come back to haunt us.
-The affair could be over for all we know.
-True.
Besides, I don't know anyone
who's gotten into trouble...
...for keeping their mouth shut.
I mean, I know things about my friends.
And I mean, things.
Me too.
-Cheap hand towels.
-Let's go.
Right.
Oh. I forgot to pee.
Hey!
-Oh, no.
-Thank you so much.
-Oh, everything was wonderful, Mary.
I must have the name of your caterer,
so yummy.
Oh. No, I made everything myself. I think
people appreciate the personal touch.
You cooked?
Oh, Mary, how could you?
What were you thinking?
Now we'll all have to do that.
And not all of us are you.
Anyway, congratulations
on a successful event.
Phone for you. It's him.
Bye.
Bye.
Hey, honey, they're almost gone.
It's safe to come home.
Since we're leaving
in the morning tomorrow...
...Iet's just eat out, and....
Stephen?
Ste--
Stephen,
it took forever to plan this trip...
...and we both really need a vacation.
Yeah, no, there has to be some way.
All right.
Okay, I'll call the travel agent.
I guess, uh, Venice will still be there.
When are you coming home?
Oh, okay, then I won't wait up.
All right, bye.
That goddamn office
is sucking the life out of him.
-Well, something definitely is.
-Sylvie.
Come on.
-We didn't mean to be listening in.
No, no, it's okay.
Thank you so much for coming.
It meant a lot to me.
Are you gonna be okay?
I would stay, but we carpooled.
I'm so sorry,
I've got the little ones at home.
No, no, I'm fine. I'm gonna be fine.
Okay.
Goddamn it.
Ned, you gotta back me on this.
It's time to stop talking down
to our readers.
That's the way CACHE is gonna distinguish itself.
You talk about branding the magazine.
How about we become
the thinking woman's fashion book?
Bring on the provocative writers.
We stop putting little Hollywood twits
on the cover.
Yes, I know the twits sell,
but, Ned, you hired me for a reason.
Let me do my job.
This time next year,
you'll look like a genius.
-Mary's on three.
-Uh, Ned, I got Ralph Lauren on the line.
I gotta go.
So how was lunch with Dad?
How does it feel to be head
of your own design house?
-He fired me.
What?
Yeah, my own father.
He said I was spreading myself too thin
and that it showed in my work.
Excuse me, but designing
...for a woman to wear home
from hip-replacement surgery...
...is not exactly my work.
Oh, honey.
Come to my office,
the Grey Goose rep was just here.
We'll open a bottle and b*tch about the men
who don't believe in us.
What? Is Ned riding you again?
Oh, I mean, that's just absolutely absurd.
That must feel terrible.
-Why doesn't he just trust your vision?
-Well, it's a crisis of confidence.
I can feel it.
I need to pull a couple of great writers
onto this magazine, and fast.
Well, you can do that. Stop at nothing.
I love you, you know that?
Whoa. Well, you wouldn't if you saw me.
My hair looks terrible.
Could you get me into Saks for a haircut?
Is that okay?
Don't go to Saks. They'll butcher you.
Hey! Hey!
Wait, what are you talking about?
That woman just did the rudest thing.
-Anyway, love you, mean it, bye.
-Mary.
Mary?
Women.
Hello, I'm Mary Haines, and my friend
Sylvie Fowler called ahead for me.
Yes, she did.
We can squeeze you in, but not for an hour.
-I'm really sorry.
-Oh.
Oh.
Well, can I get a manicure while I wait?
-Let me check.
-Okay.
Let's see.
-Okay, Tanya's had a cancellation.
-Great.
-First table, straight back.
-Okay, thank you.
Oh.
Okay. Tanya?
Tanya?
-Hi, they told me to come right back here.
-Oh, sure, have a seat.
Well, let's have a look.
Oh, my, what have we done
to ourselves?
Oh, I retiled my bathroom.
-Seriously?
-Yeah.
Oh, God.
Oh, I was thinking
about something neutral.
Wanna maybe take a walk
on the wild side?
-That's a little too much for me.
How about this? This is nice.
French Fawn, whatever. Okay.
What's that perfume you're wearing?
-Something my husband gave me.
-Oh, where have I smelled that before?
I know. That's the same stuff
that my friend wears.
downstairs.
Expensive stuff.
But she's got expensive taste, that one.
-Her name's Crystal Allen.
-Who?
My friend at the perfume counter.
That girl needs a man with money.
She's got one now too. Married, though.
Narciso Rodriguez is just amazing.
The guy she hooked,
his picture's always in the business pages.
For Crystal, that's like the classifieds
for a husband.
I can never remember that guy's name.
Everyone knows him.
-That's a beautiful ring, by the way.
-Oh, thank you.
On the wrong hand, though.
-It's the right hand.
My girlfriends gave it to me.
We gave each other one.
Haines, that's his name. Stephen Haines.
I was there when she met him.
Oh, boy, what a performance.
to the counter...
...serious type, expensive suit,
good-looking, little thinning on top...
...and he says he wants to buy
some perfume for his wife.
"What type of woman is she? "
Crystal says.
He says, "The kind that smells like soap."
Which I thought was sweet.
But for Crystal, it was a challenge.
So then she says,
"Would you prefer something sexier? "
And she runs her eyes up and down him...
...the way a big cat looks
at a slow wildebeest.
I felt kind of bad for the guy.
He didn't stand a chance.
So then she picks up
the tester bottle of Jezebel--
That's the stuff you're wearing.
--she sprays it on her wrist and her arm
for him to smell...
I guess he liked it more than he planned.
To tell you the truth,
I think this was a game for Crystal...
...until he took out his credit card,
and then she recognized his name.
And then what happened?
Then they just started seeing each other.
He takes her for nice dinners,
buys her clothes...
...sends her flowers in a vase.
-You know, the kind you keep.
I don't think that....
I don't think that, um....
I'm....
I just remembered
that I have to go somewhere.
Oh, I'm so sorry.
Was I talking too much again?
You know, I just try to entertain my clients
when they're sitting here, Mrs...?
Haines.
Oh, God.
Oh, my God. Oh, my God.
I'm so, so sorry, I had no idea.
Oh, me and my big mouth.
Is there anything I could do--?
No, just stop telling that story. I mean it.
I promise, I promise, Mrs. Haines.
Donna.
Good dirt. Oh, my God.
Hello, it's Mary for Sylvie again.
Is she still in that meeting?
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