Jobs for classy women
A young graduate of Philology comes to London looking for a job. She finishes rapidly her economies and in a fall’s night, she decides to become a classy woman. “The idea of making sex for money has inflamed and was growing…The swell was whispering and provokes itching with every denied job request and with every missed interview. I could not stop thinking how could you feel standing reclined in a cab in the middle of the night.” In this way with a wardrobe made of three outfits: a mould dress from jersey, a black dress from Holland and a white rich suit, with an infinite sort of lines, she registers herself to a ladies-company agency and becomes a classy woman. Despite her charge for some hundreds of liras, she can considers herself a chic easy to maintain. She is what men call “a chic with class.” A woman like this never asks her man where he was when he missed a night from home, would never be a mother, and will not have a husband, even less one, which goes to prostitutes. A classy woman is that silhouette that disappears in night, which would always be remembered by a man, but about which he would never talk. What strikes and even awakes dislikes is that she never cries at night, she has no remorse: “I think that it would have been hard for me if I hadn’t liked it. I don’t have too much imagination to be able to detach my mind from a double penetration.”
Why is the drama out of sight? Could be on fashion the cynicism this century? A young woman with brown dressed hair tells that is not like this.” I don’t always like it…I was pushed to this job and I do it well, but I rarely meet clients which make me feel pleasure.” It is a classy woman and lives in a capital city. Tall and thin, wearing sport clothes, with an enormous Balencianga purse, could be easily taken as a model which shops only at Colette’s, the most elegant store in Paris. Four years ago, she really was in France, to work as a model, dreaming only about the day when she would walk the podium in a presentation signed by Jean Paul Gaultier. Nevertheless, it was not so. “After six months, I was exhausted. I was going to hundreds of castings for nothing, without money for smokes and sandwiches. Many models were sleeping with hanged up men from bars for a few glasses of champagne and a diner at the restaurant. I did this too, until I realized that I deserve more.” In general, this is the way classy women start doing their jobs…
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