the tentative roots I’ve put down here are about to be wrenched up as I start somewhere new all over again. The pattern of my life – the constant upheavals, the packing and unpacking, the next move to another place where I don’t really have any sense of belonging – seems inexorable and inescapable.
I try not to think about that today, though. Work is the perfect displacement activity so I immerse myself in it. I’m just finishing up, putting the final touches to some goody bags filled with our client’s eco-cosmetics that will be handed out to guests at one of the catwalk shows, when Florence comes through reception. ‘You’re working late, Harriet.’ She smiles. ‘And thank you, those look wonderful.’ She fishes in her handbag (a classic Mulberry, naturally) and brings out a couple of white cards. ‘Here,’ she says. ‘I have two extra of these. I think you and Simone more than deserve them. I’ll see you there.’
She gives a little wave as she sweeps out of the door, calling, ‘Bon courage!’ as she heads home to prepare for the biggest week of the year in the fashion capital of the world.
I examine the cards. Embossed across the top is a logo that is instantly recognisable.
I run up the stairs to the apartment, taking them two at a time, and am so out of breath by the time I get to the fifth floor that I can scarcely get the words out to tell Simone that we have invitations to the Vogue party. And it’s being held at the Palais Galliera. So now I know exactly how Cinderella felt when she was told that she’d be going to the ball.
As we join the procession of the glamorously famous climbing the steps of the museum, I’m so excited I can hardly breathe. In the background, the Eiffel Tower flashes as if clad in silver lamé and then sparkles as if covered in sequins. It’s been the headline of all the papers, a light show commissioned especially for Fashion Week. There’s a sense of magic in the air, which is heightened by the sight of the museum building as we approach, lit so that the pure white of the stonework appears ethereal against the black of the night.
Inside, the hall and main gallery are filled with people dressed in a dazzling range of outfits, from the avant-garde of those who are trying hard to grab the attention of the movers and shakers in the fashion world to the classically understated of those who have no need to try at all. Cameras flash and a film crew circulates, capturing the glittering array of guests. Music pumps from hidden speakers and both the temperature and the volume of conversation in the room soar. Clutching our glasses of champagne, Simone and I weave our way through the crowd, nudging each other as we recognise models, actors and fashion editors. Florence catches sight of us and waves us over to where she is in conversation with a man whom she introduces as one of the directors of Paris Vogue. She is generous in including us, but we are aware, too, that this is a business event for her and so we soon drift away, leaving her to her high-level networking. Simone bumps into a client of the agency who she’s met before and I leave them to chat as I circle the room. I can hardly believe this is the same place that I’ve come to for refuge, seeking out the peace and reassurance of the history it contains. It’s the perfect setting for this glamorous party, of course, but a little bit of me resents the invasion. How many of the people here have even noticed the exhibits, I wonder.
Setting down my empty glass, I slip through into an adjacent room which is almost empty. Everyone wants to be where the action is, hoping to be snapped in one of the photographs that will appear in Vogue magazines from New York and London to Delhi and Sydney. So it’s easy to find a little peace and quiet away from the hubbub in a room where a series of Belle Époque evening gowns are displayed in glass cases.
As I stand looking at a beautiful crystal-encrusted satin creation which would overshadow any of the party outfits in the next room, a voice says, ‘Hello.’
I turn to see the woman with the silver-white hair. Tonight, instead of her tailored jacket she is wearing a black dress