Read China Rich Girlfriend Online

Authors: Kevin Kwan

China Rich Girlfriend (25 page)

13
SAVE THE SEAMSTRESS FASHION SHOW

JUNE 2013, PORTO FINO ESTATES, SHANGHAI

NOBLESTMAGAZINE.COM.CN—

Society columnist Honey Chai live-blogs from her front-row seat as two of China's most influential fashion forces come together tonight for the worthiest of causes
.

5:50 p.m.

I've just arrived at heiress and fashion blogger
Colette Bing's
heavenly country estate, where she's hosting a very special fall fashion preview with her best friend, superstar
Pan TingTing
. This is the coveted invitation that only three hundred of China's chicest have received.
Prêt-à-Couture
has flown in the most decadent looks from the top fashion houses in Europe. As Asia's top supermodels, including
Du Juan
and
Liu Wen
, strut the runway, the outfits will be auctioned off to benefit
Save the Seamstress
, a foundation started by Colette and TingTing that fights to improve working conditions for garment workers throughout Asia.

5:53 p.m.

As guests walk up the long pebble driveway to the house, a line of French waiters in black Napoleon-collared jackets welcome us
with French Blonde cocktails
*1
served in vintage Lalique stemware. Now that's class.

6:09 p.m.

This place resembles the Puli Hotel, only much bigger. We are now inside the Bing Family Museum, and everywhere I look, I see Warhols, Picassos, and Bacons, and standing in front of them are some of China's most fabulous living works of art:
Lester Liu
and his wife,
Valerie
, in a va-va-voom vintage Christian Lacroix pouf dress;
Perrineum Wang
sporting a Stephen Jones fascinator of glittery gold sunrays with a Sacai shredded dress;
Stephanie Shi
rockin' it in royal blue Rochas; and
Tiffany Yap
as au courant as ever in Carven.
Le tout
Shanghai is here tonight!

6:25 p.m.

I just met
Virginie de Bassinet
, the chic founder of Prêt-à-Couture, who promises that we will be swooning in our seats when the fashion show starts.
Carlton Bao
just walked in with a pretty girl who looks a lot like him. Who could she be, and who is the hottie with them? OMG—is he that actor from the hit Korean TV series
My Love from the Star
?

6:30 p.m.

It's not the guy from
My Love from the Star
. Turns out he's some history professor friend of Carlton's visiting from New York. How disappointing.

6:35 p.m.

Lester
and
Valerie Liu
are standing in the gallery where some beautiful antique scrolls hang, and Valerie is sobbing on Lester's shoulder. Whatever could be wrong?

6:45 p.m.

In the garden now, where seats have been arranged along the sides of an immense reflecting pool. Could this garden actually be
air-conditioned? We're in the middle of a June heat wave, and yet I feel a cold draft blowing and detect the scent of honeysuckle.

6:48 p.m.

There are iPads on every seat, with a special app installed so we can view close-ups of each outfit as it comes down the runway and place our bids. Now
this
is useful technology!

6:55 p.m.

Everyone awaits the arrival of Colette and Pan TingTing. What will they be wearing?

7:03 p.m.

Colette just made her entrance, with
Richie Yang
rushing up to take her arm and escort her to her seat. (Are the rumors that they are back together true?) This is what Colette has on: a Dior Couture daffodil strapless gown with a striking see-through panel at the thigh, worn with ridiculously sexy red Sheme heels that feature a heavily beaded snake winding around her ankles. You're reading about it here FIRST, before she has time to blog about it herself!

7:05 p.m.

Roxanne Wang
, Colette's fabulous assistant, who is just killing it in a Rick Owens DRKSHDW black denim suit, just informed me that the beading on the snake is actually rubies. I DIE!!!!

7:22 p.m.

Still waiting for Pan TingTing, who is more than an hour late. We're being told that her plane has just landed from London, where she has been filming some top-secret new movie with director Alfonso Cuarón.

7:45 p.m.

Pan TingTing is in da house! I repeat, Pan TingTing is in da house! She's sporting a high ponytail and dressed in a white silk charmeuse jumpsuit and knee-high riding boots in distressed gray leather. Designer names to come the moment I find out. Jewelry: colorful beaded African Maasai Mara tribal earrings. Not
much bling factor, but who cares—she looks beyond amazing, like she just came from a motorbike rally across the Gobi desert. The crowd is going crazy!!!

• • •

Observing the commotion on the other side of the reflecting pool, Rachel said to Carlton, “So that's the Jennifer Lawrence of China?”

“Oh, she's a much bigger star than Jennifer. She's like Jennifer Lawrence, Gisele Bündchen, and Beyoncé put together,” Carlton declared.

Rachel laughed at the analogy. “Until tonight, I'd never heard of her.”

“Trust me, you will soon. Every director in Hollywood is trying to get her in their films, because they know it will mean hundreds of millions in box-office gold over here.”

Pan TingTing stood at the entrance to the garden as all eyes locked onto her. Every guest wanted to study the translucent marble complexion that
Shanghai Vogue
had likened to Michelangelo's
Pietà
, those celebrated Bambi eyes, and her Sophia Loren–esque curves. TingTing put on the beatific smile she was so famous for and scanned the crowd quickly as the first camera flashes went off.
No surprises tonight
—
it's all the usual suspects. Why did I ever agree to leave London for this event? Good exposure, my agent says. Considering that I am already on six magazine covers this month, why do I need more exposure? I could be enjoying that amazing butternut squash salad at Ottolenghi right now and bicycling through Notting Hill totally unrecognized (except for the Chinese tourists shopping on Ledbury Road), but here I am, being dissected like an insect under a microscope. Speaking of insects, what in Guanyin's name is Perrineum Wang wearing on her head? Don't make eye contact. Oh look, here comes photographer Russell Wing. How does he manage to be at every party in Asia at the same time? Stephanie Shi just leaped out of her seat like an electrocuted poodle. Just watch, she's going to try to stand on my right again so that when the photograph appears anywhere, the caption will read “Stephanie Shi and Pan TingTing.” She always wants her name to come
first.
Thank God her grandfather isn't in power anymore. I hear that these days the old man has to use a colostomy bag. And of course, right behind Stephanie come two other Beijing princesses, Adele Deng and Wen Pi Fang. God help them, they're both wearing those Balmain basket-weave dresses that make them look like a pair of walking rattan chairs
.

The ladies greeted TingTing with cloying hugs and interlocked their arms around her as if they were the closest of friends while Russell
snapped his pictures.
My God, in the photo I'm going to look like the meat in a Balmain sandwich. Would these guanerdai
*2
girls have even spit in my direction five years ago? God, the things I do in the name of charity!

As they returned to their seats, Adele whispered to Pi Fang, “I tried to look for the scars on her eyelids this time—I really don't believe those huge raccoon eyes of hers can be real. The problem is she has fake eyelashes on, and she uses very good concealer. In pictures, she appears to have very little makeup on, but in reality she has gobs on in all the right places.”

Pi Fang nodded. “I looked at the nose. No one's nostrils are that perfect! Ivan Koon swears that she used to be a KTV hostess in Suzhou until some tycoon there paid for her to go to Seoul to get everything redone. The plastic surgeon had to issue her one of those certificates with ‘before' and ‘after' pics because she looked nothing like her passport photo after all the bandages came off.”


Pi hua!

*3
Tiffany Yap shot back. “Can't you just accept the fact that she was born with natural beauty? Not everyone has gone to Seoul to get their noses broken on purpose like the both of you. And TingTing isn't from Suzhou—she comes from Jinan. She's very open about the fact that before Zhang Yimou discovered her, she sold makeup at an SK-II counter.”

“Well, I'm partly right then. This is how she has access to all the best concealers,” Adele declared.

TingTing arrived at her seat of honor, between Colette and Colette's mother. She shook Mrs. Bing's hands respectfully before taking her seat, and Colette leaned in to give her a double-cheek kiss.
Colette looks fab, as always. People say she only looks good because she can afford anything on the planet, but I disagree. She's got a style that money can't buy. It's funny how the press labels us “best friends,” when this is maybe the fifth time I've met her. Still, she's one of the few out of this bunch that I can actually stand. She's not predictable like the rest of them, and the way she keeps all these guys running laps around her like desperate gigolos
—
it's pretty damn funny. Now I'm going to ignore the fact that Mrs. Bing just slathered on an entire bottle of hand sanitizer right after shaking my hand
.

The lights in the garden suddenly went black. After a brief pause, the bamboo grove behind the reflecting pool lit up in a vibrant Yves Klein blue, while yellow-hued lights submerged deep in the water began pulsating
dramatically like an airport runway. Serge Gainsbourg and Brigitte Bardot's “Bonnie and Clyde” began blaring on the sound system, as the first model in a golden gown with a long chiffon train glided across the vast pool, appearing to magically walk on water.

The crowd broke into rapturous applause, but Colette sat with her arms crossed and her head tilted appraisingly. As more models dressed in fancily embellished outfits continued to prance down the catwalk, several of the ladies in the front row started exchanging agitated looks. Valerie Liu shook her head disapprovingly, while Tiffany Yap raised her eyebrows at Stephanie Shi as a model in a biker jacket festooned with silk peonies stomped past. When a trio of girls in mermaid fishtail gowns with bejeweled bodices appeared, Perrineum Wang leaned over and whispered loudly to Colette, “Is this really a fashion show, or are we at the Miss Universe evening-wear competition?”

“I'm as mystified as you are,” Colette said agitatedly. A few moments later, when a model took to the catwalk in a pearlescent satin coat embroidered with a scarlet dragon, Colette had seen enough. She stood up imperiously and stormed to the edge of the runway, where the fashion show's producer, Oscar Huang, was frantically directing the models.

“Stop the show!” Colette demanded.

“What?” Oscar said, confused.

“I said stop the damn show!” Colette said. She glanced at Roxanne, who had already sprinted over to the audio booth where the sound engineer stood. The music was abruptly cut, the house lights came up, and the models stood awkwardly in their places in inch-deep water, unsure of what to do.

Colette grabbed Oscar's headset angrily, tore off her ruby-encrusted stilettos, and jumped onto the Plexiglas catwalk that hid just beneath the surface of the water. She strolled to the middle of the pool and announced, “I'm so sorry, everyone. This fashion show is over. This was not the show I was expecting, and this was not what I had promised you. Please accept my sincere apologies.”

Virginie de Bassinet, the founder of Prêt-à-Couture, came rushing onto the runway. “What is the meaning of this?” she screeched.

Colette turned to Virginie. “I should be asking
you
that question. You assured me that you would be sending over the hottest looks from London, Paris, and Milan.”

“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.

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