fleeting dilemma Tweet

What are you doing Friday evening, asked the lady, with no visible change in facial expression. Would you like to go to a BAFTA event? Photographers, LIMELIGHT, all that. I think I have no plans, I answered tentatively. It's RED CARPET, you know, she added, looking me up and down a couple of times, pondering. Oh, everyone's got a little black dress (or two), I laughed it off, starting to doubt we were going to make friends. BLACK TIE, you know, she insisted. I know I was wearing a rather boring pair of jeans, a thin black jumper, and no foundation. I also know that below the cuff of the jeans there was a rather unusual pair of purple suede Ferragamo shoes, under the jumper one could've spotted a purple top in natural silk of a cleavage so plunged that a large brooch of amethist held in the gold wings of a butterfly barely kept it decent, and between that and my light makeup there was a gorgeous, long, asymmetrical necklace in pearls and vintage bezel Austrian crystal. Anyway, I'll catch up with you after lunch, I said, and faked picking up a call as she waxed lyrical to a witness about the most heart wrenching Romanian story of the last 20+ years, these poor children in orphanages that hardly see daylight once in three-four years and you wouldn't believe... I faded out. There is no BAFTA event this Friday. Thought as much.