“These clothes are straight off the runway!” Virginie insisted.
“Which runway would that be? ürümqi airport? Tell me, what’s with all this dragon and phoenix rubbish and the excessive beading? I feel like I’m looking at Russian ice-skater outfits! Would Hubert de Givenchy ever have embroidered pavé crystals on a cashmere cape? This is the sort of fashion that panders to ignorant fu er dai*4 from the western provinces, and it is an insult to my guests! I invited the most stylish brand influencers and key opinion leaders in the country to come here tonight, and I think I can speak for all of them: There isn’t a single dress I’ve seen so far that we would even let our maids be caught dead in!”
Virginie stared at Colette, utterly dumbstruck.
? ? ?
After most of the guests had dispersed, Colette invited Carlton, Rachel, Nick, TingTing, and a few of her closest friends back to the house for a light supper.
“Where’s Richie?” Perrineum Wang asked Colette as they entered the grand salon.
“I sent him packing after the stunt he pulled earlier. Imagine presuming I would need him to escort me to my seat, as if he owned me or something!” Colette said in a huff.
“Bravo, Colette!” Adele Deng said. “I couldn’t agree with you more. And you also did the right thing by shutting down that fashion show. It would have ruined your reputation as a style icon to let it go on any longer.”
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.”
“Well, if you really have foot problems, you shouldn’t be going to Toronto—you should go to Paris.”
“Paris, France?” Mrs. Bing said dubiously as she continued to eat her congee.
“Yes, don’t you know the best foot doctors in the world are in Paris? They have to deal with all those women killing their feet trying to walk on cobblestone streets in their Roger Viviers. We want to go to Paris tonight. You should come with us and I’ll get you to the top specialist there.”
Mrs. Bing stared at her daughter with a mixture of shock and delight. This was the first time Colette had taken an interest in any of her ailments. “Can Nainai*5 and Auntie Pan Di come too? She’s always wanted to visit Paris, and Nainai needs to do something about her bunions.”
“Of course. We have plenty of room! Invite anyone you want.”
Mrs. Bing gave Stephanie a thoughtful look. “Why don’t you invite your mother too? I know she’s been so sad ever since your brother got kicked out of Yale.”
“What a fantastic idea, Mrs. Bing! I’m sure she’d love to come along, especially if you’re going,” Stephanie replied.
Colette turned to Roxanne as soon as her mother had left the room. “You need to google ‘foot doctor Paris.’?”
“Already done,” Roxanne replied. “And Trenta can be fully staffed and ready in three hours.”
Colette turned to her friends. “Why don’t we all meet at Hongqiao Airport at midnight?”
“Everybody get out your Goyards! We’re going to Paris!” Perrineum cheered.
* * *
*1 St. Germain elderflower liqueur, gin, and white Lillet mixed with grapefruit juice create this classic effervescent aperitif. Chin-chin!
*2 A Mandarin term for the children of top government officials.
*3 Mandarin for “bullshit!”
*4 A Mandarin term that means “second generation of the rich.” Generally a derogatory term for the sons and daughters of the Chinese nouveaux riches who profited from the early years of China’s reform-era boom.
*5 Mandarin for “Grandmother.”
14
TRENTA
SHANGHAI TO PARIS ON THE BINGS’ PRIVATE JET*1
The security guard at the Hongqiao International Airport Private Aviation entrance handed Carlton, Rachel, and Nick their passports and waved them through. As Carlton’s SUV approached a Gulfstream VI surrounded by arriving cars, Rachel commented, “I have a bit of a phobia of private jets, but I gotta admit, Colette’s got a beautiful plane.”
“That’s a nice plane, but it’s not Colette’s. That one is,” Carlton said, steering the car to the right. Parked in the distance on the tarmac was an alpine white Boeing 747 jumbo jet with one undulating scarlet stripe painted along its fuselage like a giant calligraphy brushstroke. “This Boeing 747-81 VIP was a fortieth-birthday present for Colette’s mother.”