CW: They really piled it on, didn’t they? What did you think of all those tiaras?
ALT: I don’t think a woman should wear a tiara unless it’s been in her family for several generations.
CW: Not sure if you look at our gossip columns, but there is this fool named Leonardo Lai…
ALT: Haha, yes! My cousin Cecilia just sent me the article.
CW: Leonardo obviously had NO CLUE who you were and couldn’t even get your name right, but he’s apparently concerned that you don’t have enough jewelry. LOL!
ALT: I’m so glad he misspelled my name! Mum would be furious to see me in the gossip columns. I guess Leonardo wasn’t impressed by pieces from the actual Imperial collection—my earrings used to belong to Dowager Empress Maria Feodorovna.
CW: Of course they did. I noticed them immediately—they looked like something I would have bought you back in our London days, from that little vintage jewelry shop in the Burlington Arcade that
you loved poking around in. You were the best-dressed woman at the ball, no contest.
ALT: You’re too sweet. But come on, I did not go all out like some of those Hong Kong fashionistas who wore specially commissioned gowns in the style of Catherine the Great or whomever.
CW: You’ve always dressed to please yourself—that’s precisely why you looked great. You and Kitty Pong, of course.
ALT: You’re funny. I actually thought she looked fantastic! Her dress was very Josephine Baker.
CW: She was naked except for all those feathers and emeralds.
ALT: The dress worked. But stealing the spotlight from Francis Poon was rather shameless. I was afraid poor old Francis was going to have a heart attack when she rushed onstage and grabbed the microphone from him while he was trying to make his speech!
CW: Ada Poon should have jumped up and slapped Kitty Pong just like any good third wife would.
ALT: She was too weighed down by all that jewelry to do any jumping.
CW: I really do wonder what’s happened to Bernard Tai. Why is Kitty everywhere but he’s not? Is he even still alive?
ALT: She’s probably got him chained up in a dungeon somewhere with a ball gag in his mouth!
CW: Astrid Leong! You shock me!
ALT: Sorry, I’ve been reading too much Marquis de Sade lately. Dare I ask where YOUR wife was? Am I ever going to meet the legendary Isabel Wu?
CW: Isabel is too snotty to go to events like these. She only goes to two or three of the old-guard balls every year.
ALT: LOL! Old-guard balls. I don’t even want to tell you what just came into my head!
CW: Sir Francis Poon?
ALT: You’re terrible! Oh—my cousin’s waving me over. It’s boarding time.
CW: Why you still fly commercial I’ll never understand.
ALT: We’re Leongs, that’s why. My dad thinks it would be shameful if the family is seen flying private since he is a “public servant.” And he claims it’s far safer in a big commercial airliner than in a small one.
CW: I think it’s much safer on your own plane, with a dedicated ground crew. You get there in half the time and feel less jet lag.
ALT: I don’t ever get jet lag, remember? Also, we don’t have Charlie Wu $$$.
CW: That’s a funny one! You Leongs could buy me for breakfast any day. Anyway, have a good flight.
ALT: Nice chatting. Next time we’re in HK, I promise I’ll give you more notice.
CW: Okay.