Elegance

spell brought on by witnessing such an excess of beauty.

but they’re gone, swallowed by the ever shifting crowd. ‘

flicking through the facts

Spreading her arms wide, s

Turning our shoulders sideways,

The buzz and hum of the crowd engulfs us as we make our way across the pale marble floor. Y

However, my husband grips my shoulder and propels me forward, waving to his mother, Mona, who’s standing with a group of stylish older women at the bar.
‘Hello!’ he shouts, suddenly animated, coming over all jolly and larger than life. The tired, silent man in the cab is replaced by a dazzling, gregarious, social raconteur.
Mona spots us and waves back, a little half scooping royal wave, the signal for us to join her. Turning our shoulders sideways, we squeeze through the crowd, negotiating drinks and lit cigarettes. As we come into range I pull a face that I hope passes as a smile.
She is wonderfully, fantastically, superhumanly preserved. Her abundant silver-white hair is swept back from her face in an elaborate chignon, making her cheekbones appear even more prominent and her eyes feline. She holds herself perfectly straight, as if she spent her entire childhood nailed to a board, and her black trouser suit betrays the causal elegance of Donna Karan’s tailoring. The women around her are all cut from the same, expensive cloth and I suspect we’re about to join a kind of ageing models’ reunion.
‘Darling!’ She takes her son’s arm and kisses him on both cheeks. ‘I’m so pleased you could make it!’ My husband gives her a little squeeze.
‘We wouldn’t miss it for the