Miss O'Dyne sent me this image some time ago when I was drooling on about velvet gowns and at 17 I really wanted to be this sophisticated. At 18 I managed to get the hair right and on my best coat I had an Arctic Fox fur collar. In those far off days of walking and freezing trains and no way of ever owning a car, I needed the warmth and we weren't exactly taught the moral ethics of not killing animals for fashion. The velvet dresses came later, much too late for the kind of lounging that Miss Elegance has perfected. I remembered this photo while I was wandering through the luxury items of Buccellati jewellers and I knew these ruby and diamond earrings would be perfect and of course a matching bracelet to complete the decadence.
Now we can start the bitching. Her straggling hair. Her bra straps. Her shapeless velvet and miles too short dress. Heavy belt, grungy jewellery and "shooties", cross between a shoe and a boot. You see what I mean about "old", it isn't elegant to me. It isn't even good dressing. I would wear that out to get the milk. But that's just me and even if she was my granddaughter I'd never say a word to her face. Behind her back is another matter. What's life when you're old without something to bitch about. At least she hasn't the bad taste to wear my beloved Buccellati rubies with it.