Paris Frills (Falbalas)

PARIS FRILLS

We should do something.

There's nothing to do. He's dead.

He looks happy.

So does she. She didn't even break.

He's not bleeding.

He's dead.

Pass me the needles, Solange.

Thanks.

It's nice.

- Solange. - What?

- Fetch her the coat. - What coat?

For the dress.

You sent it to the tailor.

What was the hurry?

Get that coat.

I can't work without it.

Hurry, I'm fed up.

- Lucienne. - What?

The dress!

Stand still.

- The coat... - I'm not done.

Bring it anyway.

Don't try to understand. Just hurry.

Pass me the red silk.

Yes.

Solange is in a bad mood.

She dislikes the line.

That's typical of her. She never laughs.

She's nice.

She's not that bad.

- Countess. - Goodbye, dear.

Mrs Anne-Marie?

Fashion Now is asking about the line.

- Hello? - Mrs Anne-Marie?

- Yes? - When's the launch?

We don't know yet.

- Can we speak to Mr Clarence? - He's not available.

You'll be the first to know. All right. Count on me.

- Thank you. - Goodbye.

Hello.

- She's patient. - Or hypocritical.

You dislike her?

- That obvious? - Yes.

- Is my dress ready? - I think so.

Tell the shop Miss Lambert is here.

- I can't sing naked tonight. - Of course not.

Fine.

Open the coat.

Not bad.

The dress is ugly.

Take it off, Lucienne.

Give me the jersey fabric, Solange.

I like the dress.

What? Absolutely not.

- Who is it? - Anne-Marie.

Suzie Lambert is here for you.

This jersey is stiff.

I'm running late.

Go, then. Send me Huguette.

Don't bother.

If you insist, I'll stay.

Don't look down.

Wrong fabric.

- It doesn't fall right. - Tell the maker.

Good idea.

Is Mr Daniel Rousseau in Lyon?

I don't think so, please hold. I'll get his secretary.

Mr Clarence on the line.

Hello, Mr Clarence.

- Has your boss left? - No, sir.

He's in Paris, but he's popped out.

- Where is he? - He didn't tell me.

He didn't tell you, but I know. Goodbye.

Turn around.

He'll be hearing from me!

I've been looking for you.

No time. What's wrong?

- It's the dress... - What?

- I wanted crepe fabric. - It's velvet.

Have you ever sung in public?

No, why?

I have stage fright, and my hands get wet.

They stain the fabric.

Why put your hands there?

It's part of my style.

Change styles, leave the dress.

- Now what? - This line will kill you.

Never you mind.

- How come he's so rude today? - He's like that.

Keep it.

It's ugly.

I like chimneys. I won't budge.

Only smart people change their mind.

- What brings you here? - Are you mad?

- What's wrong? - Why aren't you in Lyon?

It's the jersey?

This jersey is for curtains.

Are you the decorator? Perhaps you could use this.

I, however, am a couturier.

Mr Rousseau, I have to go.

Have some respect. I'm not responsible for your line.

I ordered the fabric two months ago. They're either available or not.

It's simple. We silk producers won't run ourselves ragged

for artists like you,

nor provide penniless companies with limitless loans.

"Penniless"?

You don't pay.

You're amazing!

My line's going nowhere, and you're busy with your apartment.

Because my wedding's in three weeks.

- My business is stuck. - Your business...

- I leave tonight. - I heard.

- Go and work on your line. - My line is just...

This way.

- When's the wedding? - In three weeks.

I won't believe in this marriage till I see your fiancée.

- Her name is...? - Micheline Lafaurie, 19, orphan.

She's in Reims. She'll arrive soon.

It's so far.

It's not the Far West. Take the lift.

- You're really leaving? - Yes.

For how long?

Four or five days.

Enjoy yourself.

- Hey. - Yes?

- Will you be my witness? - What?

Will you be my witness?

- For a duel? - For the wedding.

Why didn't you say so?

Well?

Ask Uncle Louis. He'll be perfect. So long.

So long.

- What floor? - Fifth.

I thought so.

Here we are.

There's no power, you have to knock.

What's this?

Explain.

Let me show you around.

This is the dining room. We'll hardly use it.

I prefer eating throughout the apartment.

Here's the lounge.

Lounges are a silly bourgeois tradition.

You never use them!

Here's the living room... They're removing the partition.

What a strange idea.

Expanding the lounge, yet another tradition.

It's a lovely apartment. There are six rooms with a view of the garden.

Bedroom, where you can sleep, or not.

The maids won't know where to look for us.

Breakfast would be a wild goose chase.

- Are you done? - Yes. I almost forgot!

This is Daniel Rousseau. An upholstery manufacturer.

- Philip Clarence. - I thought so.

- What did he say about me? - Many things.

Time to leave.

I'll walk you.

Actually, since you're getting married,

allow me to make your wedding dress.

- Nonsense. - Don't listen to him.

- You'll have time afterwards. - Come on, old boy.

Come tomorrow at eleven.

I'll be back.

- You ditched me for her. - She arrived last night.

Oh, I almost forgot my fabric.

You're forgiven.

- You're lucky, she's pretty. - Off with you.

- Excuse me, I'm in a hurry. - Just a moment.

There you are.

I needed a mirror, there's only one.

The apartment isn't ready. What do you think?

- Not bad. - Not bad?

The architecture's a little dated, but we'll fix it.

I'm talking about your friend. Is he good?

One of the best couturiers in Paris.

What about this dress?

We'd better decline. It's for the best.

Why?

In our line of work, wedding dresses shouldn't be given by a stranger.

Dear Daniel.

Don't call me "Dear Daniel".

You were saying?

I'm lucky you're a serious man.

Madam. I have to go.

No, don't leave. We need your services.

Let's start with the back room.

Follow us, Mr Lemoine.

- May I see Mr Clarence? - He's not here.

He asked me here.

I'll see. Do come in.

Good news. We're stopping the line and starting again.

That's pretty terrific news.

What's happening?

Mr Clarence worked all night on a new design.

He couldn't sleep?

- Please come. - Why?

- Mr Clarence has a visitor. - I'm coming.

What do I do?

Carry on. I'll tell you more later.