|it's fashion, baby. (fadulous) wrote in nevermore_logs,|
@ 2012-12-24 16:47:00
It was their first gala in what felt like ages.
Preparation had been a bitch, but the decorating on the day of was more or less entertaining. There wasn't too much hired talent, not because Betsey didn't enjoy ordering people around, but because she had a white and silvery vision that only her hand could perfect. The studio was beautiful-- a quaint little wonderland that glimmered here and there. Fake snowflakes hung from the ceiling, fake ice lined the bar, and oh, the Christmas tree. It stood at nine feet tall and had required a step-ladder and four people to decorate, but it had come out simple, yet charming.
Buffet tables lined one wall with hors d'oeuvres that varied from spanakopita to deviled eggs to egg rolls, and upon the last table, delicious cakes and pastries beckoned. Somewhere behind the food, cocktail tables and comfortable stools had been positioned for those looking to sit with their drinks, but there was plenty of room to stand, sit (for the plush couches looked oh so tempting), and mingle. At the bar, a tall, blonde and gorgeous bartender was fluttering back and forth, handing out smiles, free drinks, and festive greetings. Mistletoe hung liberally throughout parts of the studio, and it was up to the guests to determine whether they had enough Christmas spirit to pay attention to them.
Betsey herself had made it explicitly clear that she wouldn't drink until a majority of the guests had arrived, and so she floated here and there like a good host while she entrusted Dom to the door. The pair had worked hard for this night-- they hoped everyone else would enjoy it, too.