High noon at La Côte Basque, circa 1960.
Red leather banquettes. Bright seacoast murals and bouquets. Thick silverware deployed with millimeter precision.
In the kitchen, the prep work has been going on since 6 a.m.; yes, the sauces are ready.
Babe is the first to arrive, a chilled La Doucette, please. Then Gloria, Slim, Jackie and Lee…
(Well, perhaps not all at once.)
A ballet of waiters and sommeliers ensues, bites of Grand Marnier soufflé and talk of indiscretions in high places. Mr. Truman Capote, surveying the scene, refers to the assembled as “the swans.”
He was a sad case, but he knew how to pick the right word.
Swan Blouse (No. 1477), as worn in that era of vanished elegance. Crisp cotton with wrap closure. Wide French cuffs. The vertical stripes, V-neck, and stand up collar will elongate you. Imported.