In which Lady Bracknell makes a surprising discovery
As an elderly widow of quiet and respectable habits, Lady Bracknell has never previously envisaged herself in such a role. However, she hopes that she is not so entirely hidebound by the strictures of her class and upbringing as to reject new ideas out of hand without giving them her mature and objective consideration. (Except for roller blading, of course. Some things are just too preposterous for words.)
Lady Bracknell has pondered the matter in her spare moments during what has been a decidedly busy day. She has come to the conclusion that, in order for her to perform convincingly in the role of femme fatale, some adjustments to her wardrobe will be necessitated.
Dude, the chauffeur, is likely to interject at this point that Lady Bracknell is constantly supplementing her wardrobe, and that this would just be the latest in a long line of excuses. Really, the man is incorrigible! Were it not for his constant willingness to put his superior height to good use by changing the light bulbs in Bracknell Towers, Lady Bracknell would have reconsidered his employment long ago.
That aside, Lady Bracknell is persuaded that she will need some elbow-length black satin gloves, over which she will wear costume jewellery of a more than customarily dazzling appearance. A slender menthol cigarette carried in a long, elegant holder would seem to be de rigueur, as would a great deal of dark eyeshadow, accompanied by a very considerable application of mascara.
If Lady Bracknell is to play the part well, she will need to be able to drop smouldering glances over her right shoulder. Unfortunately, current stiffness in her cervical vertebrae precludes such a practice. Any gentleman desirous of being glanced at in a smouldering manner will need to position himself only very slightly to one side of her ladyship. This is what is known as a "reasonable adjustment".
There should be no need for further investment in perfumes, as Lady Bracknell is already more than fully equipped with an extensive range of Thierry Mugler's creations. (She has refrained to date from boring her readers with the details of her Mugler collection, but can assure them that it is unusually comprehensive.)
The problem of appropriate footwear for a femme fatale is, however, exercising her ladyship's mind considerably. How is she to disguise her extra-wide orthopaedic flat shoes as something which would be worn by a Woman of Mystery? Suggestions made via the comments facility will, as always, be welcomed.