Rachel gave Nick a look of bafflement, before venturing to ask, “Forgive my ignorance, but I still don’t really understand what happened. What was wrong with the show? From my iPad guide, it seemed like we were looking at clothes from all the top designers.”
“They were the top designers. But we were seeing only the clothes that they specifically designed to appeal to the Chinese market. It was extremely patronizing. This is part of a rather alarming trend where brands are sending all these China-centric pieces to Asia, but not giving us access to the truly fashion-forward pieces that women in London, Paris, or New York get to buy,” Colette explained.
“Every week, all the top designers send me racks and racks of these outfits, hoping I will wear them, but most of them remind me of what we just saw coming down that runway,” TingTing said.
“I had no idea this was happening,” Rachel said.
“Where was the Gareth Pugh, I ask you? Where was the Hussein Chalayan? If one more one-shouldered sequin gown came down that catwalk, I was going to projectile vomit!” Perrineum huffed, the gold antennae on her head wobbling in fury.
Sprawled out on one of the sofas, Tiffany Yap sighed. “I was hoping to do all my shopping for next season tonight, but this has been an utter failure.”
“You know, I’ve completely given up trying to shop in China these days. I just go straight to Paris,” Stephanie Shi sniffed.
“We should all go to Paris one of these days. That’d be a fun trip,” Adele said.
A spark came into Colette’s eyes. “Why don’t we go now? Let’s take my plane and go straight to the source!”
“Colette, are you serious?” Stephanie said excitedly.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Turning to Roxanne, Colette asked, “What’s the jet schedule like? Is Trenta in use next week?”
Roxanne began scrolling through her iPad. “Your father has Trenta on Thursday, but I have you scheduled on Venti on Monday. You’re supposed to fly to Guilin with Rachel and Nick.”
“Oh I forgot about that,” Colette said, glancing at Rachel a little sheepishly.
“Colette, you should absolutely go to Paris. Nick and I can see Guilin on our own,” Rachel insisted.
“Nonsense. I promised to show you my favorite mountains in Guilin, and we’ll definitely go. But first, you and Nick must come to Paris with us.”
Rachel shot Nick a glance he could tell translated as, Jesus, not another private jet trip! He responded, carefully, “We really wouldn’t want to impose.”
Colette turned to Carlton. “Aiyah, tell Nick and Rachel to stop being so polite with me!”
“Of course they’re coming with us to Paris,” Carlton said matter-of-factly, as if it was a foregone conclusion.
“How about you, TingTing? Can you come?” Colette asked.
For a split second, TingTing looked like a deer caught in headlights. I’d rather get a scorching case of herpes than be trapped on a plane with these girls for twelve hours. “Wow—I wish I could come to Paris, but I’m due back on the set in London first thing next week,” said the actress, giving everyone a mournful look.
“That’s too bad,” Colette said.
Roxanne cleared her throat loudly. “Ahem, there’s one little snag…your mother is using Trenta tomorrow.”
“What for? Where’s she going?” Colette demanded.
“Toronto.”
“Mother!” Colette shouted at the top of her lungs.
Mrs. Bing came waddling into the grand salon holding a bowl of fish congee.
“Why do you need to go to Toronto, of all places?” Colette asked.
“There’s a foot doctor there that Mary Xie recommended.”
“What’s wrong with your foot?”
“Aiyah, it’s not just my feet. It’s my calves and my thighs. They burn like fire every time I walk for more than ten minutes. I think I have spinal phimosis.”