Wednesday, April 2, 2014
Brian appears before us wearing the lilac silk striped with fuchsia cables. Again. She grew up in her mother's dressmaking shop, first playing among the bolts and swathes of fabric, the windings of braid and piping. She dutifully sorted buttons for hours, happily finding the matches, loving the unusual ones, the colourful ones, the textured ones. Now, years later, her skills were more in demand than her mother's. She had an eye for style that was slightly ahead of le monde, but not too bold, not too avant garde. It was her creations they wanted. Always she was busy among the silks, the notions, the buttons, but not for play; there was no more hide-and-go-seek and the button matching was deathly serious. Fashion was a game in Paris, but it was a blood sport, and one poor showing could kill you.
Brought to Life by Nance at 11:30 PM