Ready to Wear Page #4

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Dead. How about Gaultier?

Yeah. He's very enthusiastic.

- But you like his work.

- I used to, at the beginning

of his career...

when he was...

my little protege.

Lately he's gone off in a direction

I don't think I can entirely approve of.

- You mean, like Cy Bianco?

- Why would you want to

dredge up his recycled name?

It seems that they're both

influenced by the street.

Ah. What street?

Bond? Or Camden Loch?

- Where's Mother?

- Um, I think she's in her office.

Mm.

- Mother?

- Don't say anything, Jack.

Just get out and close the door.

No, no. I don't want that black thing.

No, please.

I don't think I'm gonna be home

tonight, honey. My mother

wants me to stay with her.

- I wonder who's the father.

- The father?

You know, Albertine's baby.

Well, it's not me.

- Oh, really?

- Mm-hmm.

Dane, I'm gonna try and catch a ride

with your old man.

- I'll catch you later, all right?

- That's nice of him.

- There's no downside.

Milo O'Brannigan's the photographer.

- You can't do better than that.

He's the best.

- Milo O'Brannigan?

- Ooh.

- He'll make you all look great.

And you'll be, what, with your friends.

- Oh, that's nice. Nice.

- He shoots quick.

- Is it wrong?

- No, it's definitely not wrong.

- Milo, huh?

- Well, yeah, Milo. He's the best.

- How'd you get him?

You sleep with him, or what?

- No. I don't sleep with men.

- Where is Mr Lammeraux?

- Jack!

Wait'll you see these boots!

One for every mood.

- Clint, how are you? It's been

such a long time, since Christmas.

- Jack.

- How is Ann? She is absolutely charming.

- She said to say hi.

- Do you know Ann Richards?

- I introduced you to her. Remember me?

- Oh! Eve. Clint Lammeraux.

- Nice to meet you.

- Eve. Slim Chrysler.

- Bonjour. Bonjour.

- Why don't you try those on?

- Well, I've got boots on now.

- Oui, c'est ca!

- How's that?

Well, Slim was just

saying that my mother...

is really going to love these boots.

She's gonna love them.

Well, it's nice of you

to say so, but, uh...

- I'm just a simple Irish

country boy who loves his work.

- Ah, listen...

- I know your contract at Vogue

is almost up.

- March 31.

Is it? Ha. I never bother

with that business stuff.

I'll get somebody to check it out. Let

me give you another glass of champagne.

Milo.

Me old darlin'.

Hello.

- I'm here for a slightly

premature celebration.

- Mm-hmm?

Remember the information that

I imparted to you about my imminent...

megabucks deal in the States?

Well, it's about

to come to fruition.

- You know I want you

to be my right-hand man.

We're gonna blow Vanity Fair

out of the f***ing water, darling.

- And my friend at The New Yorker

says Tina...

is shitting herself!

- Regina!

- Hi.

Oh! Oh!

Oh, I'm sorry, I thought...

this was

Gerard Depardieu's suite.

He never looked better.

Isabella de la Fontaine,

my condolences.

I'd appreciate it if you would please

answer a few questions.

Some people here in Paris

think that your husband

was involved with Simone Lo.

- How do you feel about that right now?

- The car?

Is it true that your husband

was in financial turmoil?

- Did you know your husband

had enemies?

- Oh, merde!

What are you going to do now?

Merde!

Thank you, Mrs de la Fontaine.

My condolences. Okay.

Come here. Move, move, move.

This is Sandra de la Notte

reporting.

There she is.

Simone Lowenthal!

Mrs Lowenthal!

Mrs Lo!

Mrs Lo, please, could you answer to

a few quick questions?

Mrs Lowenthal, please.

What was your relationship with

the victim before the murder?

- Please, leave me alone.

- Did you have quarrels with his wife?

- Would you please tell me

about your collection?

- What was your relationship

with the victim?

- Why don't you ask his widow?

Who do you think could have

done such a horrible thing?

- These bizarre circumstances...

- These bizarre circumstances...

- ...have cast...

- have cast a strange pall over

fashion week here in Paris...

where it's difficult to eclipse

the epic drama of the pret-a-porter.

- Ironically...

- Ironically...

- the controversial figure...

- the controversial figure

at the centre of it all...

- has done just that.

- has done just that.

That's it.

I'll call with something on

the coroner's report tomorrow.

Isabella!

Isabella! Is...

Close the door.

Isabella.

You know, they said it was

a man who murdered him.

I would have guessed his wife.

Please. Simone's better off

without him anyway.

- So's his wife.

- Kiki.

- Did you ever sleep with him?

- Get outta here!

No, I wouldn't do that to Simone.

Why? Tryin' to tell me something?

- Not quite. I have to go.

I'm cooking. Bye.

- Okay. Bye.

- Who's on the phone?

- Only your wife.

Want some wine?

No, I shouldn't.

Oh.

Hello. Yes, this is

Anne Eisenhower.

Y-Yes. Yes. Well, you know, that's just

completely unacceptable, I'm afraid...

because I have to have my bag.

Well. I-I-I filled out

the form and everything's there.

Just... If you could just

please keep looking.

Thank you.

Thank you very much.

If you can't make it,

then sit with Kitty Potter.

I'll be in Paris

guaranteeing you...

- that I'm gonna bring to you a drama.

- Closer, closer

I thought you said you didn't drink.

Long ago Seems so far away

I said I shouldn't drink.

I fell in love with you

And that feeling remained

Looking back I recall

how you never could see

- Well, cheers.

- Thank you.

All the feelings

I kept deep inside

That I didn't set free

- But still I

- Ooh

- I wanna be close to you

I wanna be close to you

- Closer, closer

- Um.

Still I

I wanna get close to you

These French really know

how to make wine.

Closer

I don't know. Just go ahead

without Simone.

Guys, I'm... I'm fed up waiting.

We're gonna do this now. All right?

- Right.

- Yeah? You all right?

You ready? Ready? Oh, okay.

Hi. So, hope you're all

well. You look lovely.

I'm just gonna do this shot now, okay?

Uh, the important thing is...

I'm gonna count to three.

When I say three, that's

when the shot is gonna be...

so I want you to keep your eyes

wide open, you know. No blinking. Okay?

Focus on the camera when I say three.

All right? Here we go.

Thank you. Thank you.

Thank you. Thank you.

- Uh, what about the champagne glasses?

- Yeah, I told them.

- Milo, she's here.

- I'm sorry I'm late. I'm sorry I'm late.

Winnie, pull her

into the centre.

- No, no, no.

- Si, si, si, si!

Allez!

I'm sorry.

- Tres bien.

- I'll wait for you.

Hi, Simone. Now, on the count of three,

I want you to look over here. All right?

- Okay. I'm sorry, Milo.

- Okay. Excuse me, I'm trying to work.

Set.

Okay. And again.

Over here, please.

One, two, three.

This is Kitty Potter

reporting live...

on the first day of the

Fall 1994, Paris collections.

The remarkably well-preserved

crowd of fashion folk...

you see around me look as though...

But in reality,

they're headed for the trenches.

Fashion, my friends, is war.

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