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♪
[birds chirping]
[bicycle bell dings]
-Oh! -Watch it!
♪
What's it to be, Eddie?
Good news or bad?
Oh! [chuckles]
Oh.
-Morning, Chandler. -Good morning, Mrs. Harris.
-How are you? -It's my lucky day today.
-Same as every day. -[chuckles]
Thank you.
All right.
Why's no one took that seat?
-Maybe I saving it for you. -[chuckles]
Shove over, then.
[sighs]
You won't believe this, Vi.
The strangest thing's just happened.
I reckon it's a sign.
Ada Harris, why that man of yours
can't use the post like everybody else?
Not much of a writer, my Eddie.
[chuckles]
♪
VI: Ooh! So cold.
-Anyone coming? -No.
-No? -All clear.
[quiet chatter]
-[laughter] -Oh, morning, Mr. Newcombe.
Up bright and early.
Duty calls, Mrs. Harris.
Uh, my niece, Portia.
Oh, delighted, I'm sure.
-Morning. -Morning.
[singsongy]: Ooh-ooh, Miss Penrose.
[exhales heavily]
[scoffs]
Bombs away.
Aren't you awfully early?
It's gone half past 1:00, dear.
No.
Christ, my bloody audition.
♪
[groans]
Oh, I haven't a thing to wear.
Oh, you look lovely in anything, dear.
There.
What about this?
Oh, what have you done with my... script?
Oh, hang on, hang on. Hang on.
Oh, for God's sake.
There. Good luck, sweetheart.
Thanks, darling.
You're an angel.
What would I do without you?
[chuckles]
-[lively chatter] -[music playing]
VI: Let's enjoy ourselves!
[laughs]
["Johnny B. Goode" by Chuck Berry playing]
♪ Deep down in Louisiana close to New Orleans... ♪
Well, if it isn't the marvelous Mrs. H
and her trusty sidekick.
What can I get you, ladies? It's been a lucky week.
-Oh. -Two port and lemon.
Every week's lucky if you're the bookmaker.
You're not wrong there, love.
Two port and lemon, please.
Course, now I've got your company, I'm in clover.
You think you get our company for one drink, Mr. Archie?
Now, these two are a proper judge of character.
They like you, Ada Harris.
Why they stick with you, if they're so smart?
Why do you stick with her, her so crabby?
Met her me first shift building planes.
Never had a better friend.
Trouble with this one, she always speak the truth.
-[chuckles softly] -Can't help herself.
That is a terrible affliction.
All right, behave yourself, ladies.
I'll be watching you.
[upbeat music playing]
War's been over a long time.
Your Eddie's never coming back.
Go on.
["Little Bit of Rock" by Lincoln Grounds/Pat Reyford]
Yeah.
♪ I got a gal, she looks just fine ♪
♪ Always bring me whiskey and wine ♪
♪ Breakfast in the morning and dinner at night ♪
♪ Everything she do, she do just right ♪
♪ And when I say, "What you wanna do?" ♪
♪ She said, "There's just one thing that I want from you" ♪
♪ A little bit of rock, a little bit of roll ♪
♪ A little bit of rock
[fading]: ♪ Ooh, a little bit of roll...
VI: "Dear Mrs. Harris,
"Please find enclosed the personal effects
"of Sergeant Edward Harris,
"recovered from a crash site near Warsaw, Poland.
"As a result of this discovery,
"Sergeant Harris is now posted...
"killed in action,
"2 March 1944.
"Please await further communication
from RAF Central Administration."
Oh, Ada.
I'm so sorry.
I-I should've known he...
He would've got back to me if he could've, you know...
one way or another.
Well...
that's that, then.
Footloose and fancy-free.
[chuckles]
♪
All right, love.
I hope it was quick.
Miss you. [sniffles]
No, the evening do, absolutely,
but not the wedding breakfast.
Uh, you know, Mrs....
Mrs. Harris, excuse me. Could you just...
just take that... [mutters]
-No, that is extortion. -Oh.
You must go back and explain to them
that we can't possibly afford that.
Well, of course it must be champagne.
I-I-I... Remind them that Charles is their MP.
That must be worth something, huh?
Yes. [chuckles]
Toodle-pip.
This wedding's going to be the death of me.
Do you have children, Mrs. Harris?
A nightmare of expense from start to finish.
Oh, yes.
Poor old Admiral Dant
had to make the ultimate sacrifice.
Setting sail for Christie's and balmier shores.
Dreadful man, by all accounts.
Talking of accounts, Lady Dant,
I was wondering if you might be able to sett...
We've been tightening our belts for so long now,
it's a miracle we can all still breathe.
[chuckles]
♪
[sighs]
♪
-LADY DANT: Isn't it divine? -Oh.
I swore I would never set foot in the Avenue Montaigne,
but what with the wedding and "when in Paris" and...
The moment I laid eyes on Ravissante...
-[whispers]: Ravissante. -...I was ravished.
To the tune of 500 pounds.
500 quid for a dress?
Shh, shh, shh. Lord Dant.
I don't mind admitting things have been
a bit bloody of late, but...
when I put it on...
...nothing else matters.
[chuckles softly]
LORD DANT [calling]: Lotte?
LADY DANT: Now, quickly, hide it away.
His Lordship must not see it
until I've had time to work on him.
[shuddering]: Oh.
♪
[faucet squeaks, water stops]
♪
[sighs softly]
Ravissante.
By Christian Dior.
♪
[paper rustles]
Night, love.
South London Post!
Saturday results!
All your football results.
-Oh! -South London Post!
-Sorry. -Saturday results!
All your football results.
-South London Post! -[sighs]
Saturday results!
ANNOUNCER [over radio]: Manchester United two,
Blackpool two.
Newcastle five,
Liverpool three.
Preston North End two,
Portsmouth two.
And now we return to the rest of the sports report.
[orchestral music playing over radio]
[Vi groans]
[Vi sighs]
No! No!
Oh, it's my Eddie.
It's my angel.
You gone simple on me, woman?
[chuckles]
[laughing]: I won, Vi.
I've won.
[both laughing]
[rhythmic clanging]
[whooping, laughing]
-[thumping] -[man shouts indistinctly]
You want to make nice to her.
She's only gone and won the pools.
[laughing]
Ada, what you going to do?
[panting]: I'm going to buy a dress.
Something pretty for the Legion Dance.
-Yeah. -[Vi laughing]
A Christian Dior dress from Paris.
500 quid.
[both laughing]
How much you win?
[rattling]
CHANDLER: Any more tickets, please?
Where to, ma'am?
Single, Miss Violet?
Mm-hmm. No cleaning up after no man for me.
[Chandler chuckling]
-Ah. -Morning, Mr. Newcombe.
Mrs. Harris, I, uh...
I don't believe you've met my niece, Samantha.
Oh, no, I haven't had the pleasure.
Um, Mr. Newcombe.
If you know of anyone who could use me services-- um...
one of your nieces, perhaps?
Samantha, Mrs. H is the soul of discretion.
One would never know she'd been but for the polish on my knobs.
Oh, Giles.
-[Giles chuckling] -[sighs]
[blows sharply]
["On n'oublie rien" by Juliette Gréco playing]
[song continues with singing in French]
[humming along]
♪
Thank you.
[indistinct chatter]
[song continues with singing in French]
-[camera snaps] -[exhales sharply]
Oh. [chuckles]
[camera snaps]
[song ends]
Sorry about the audition, love.
Oh, I don't know why I bother.
"Too young." "Too old."
"Too tall." "Too fat."
You're just right, ducks.
I'm twenty... three.
Couple more years, and it's all over for me.
Oh, you've plenty of time.
You can't imagine what it's like, Mrs. Harris,
always having to worry about your looks.
VI: Hey, Cinderella, why'd you bring them rags?
I will go to the ball...
when I get me dress.
Oh, here comes trouble with a capital "A."
Hello, Archie.
-Ada, the very girl I was after. -[dog barks]
-What can I do for you, ducks? -Now, don't get me excited.
You know I've got a dodgy ticker.
[chuckling]: Oh, get away with you.
She got bigger plans than you.
I can see that.
So, would you mind doing me a favor
and look after Spring and Summer?
[chuckling]: Because Cynthia there's
not exactly a dog's best friend.
Go on.
ARCHIE: Thank you.
You are an absolute star.
And you're all right.
C? All right, here we go.
Shake that tail, baby.
That's what we are, Vi.
The invisible women.
Speak for yourself.
[inhales deeply]
They see me coming. ♪ Mm!
[both laughing]
BOTH: Oh!
Beg your pardon, milady.
Milady, um, my account.
I was wondering if you might settle up.
Oh, I'm so sorry, Mrs. Harris.
I'm afraid I forgot to pop to the bank.
This wedding is a nightmare.
[chuckling]: Everybody has said yes.
Oh, um...
you wouldn't mind waiting until next week, would you?
Well, uh, the thing is,
it's become a bit pressing because I need to...
Oh, is that the time? [scoffs, sighs]
Actually, Mrs. Harris,
I'm afraid I'm going to have to reduce your hours.
Reduce? N-No, please. Milady, please...
Well, we all have to economize these days, don't we?
Sorry.
♪
[thunder rumbling]
♪
[dog barking nearby]
[footsteps in distance]
[knocking]
VI: I know you're there, woman, in the dark and cold.
[chuckles]
I'm all right, Vi.
[Vi sighs]
Archie has got us free into White City.
Oh, no, I've got all this mending.
-Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah. -N-No. No, no, Vi.
Vi... Oh.
VI: Have us a bit of fun.
-[bell rings] -[crowd cheering]
♪
-[indistinct chatter] -[Vi chuckling]
[indistinct announcement over P.A.]
ADA: Oh, good Lord. Look.
It's a sign.
You got a good tip?
ADA [laughing]: Yeah!
-Yeah, I have! -[laughing]
-Um... excu... excuse... -ARCHIE [chuckling]: Hey.
-Excuse me. -Ada, you fancy a flutter?
-Yeah. -What'll it be?
100 quid on number six.
To win.
A ton?
For the love of Mike, Ada, no, put it away.
No. Number six.
-Haute Couture, please. -The dog's a bag of bones.
It couldn't win with a rocket up its arse.
You tell her, Archie.
She's lost her marbles.
No, it's Haute Couture.
It's a sign. How could it be anything else?
Ada, girl, I've been doing this a long time, all right?
Signs don't win races.
Not till tonight, they didn't. [chuckles]
My money's good.
Count it, please.
Yeah. [laughs]
[indistinct announcement over P.A.]
Here.
Here we go. That's good.
Oh, we got a good spot. Right.
♪
[barks]
-Oh. Wish me luck. -[laughs]
-Oh, Ada. -Come on, Haute Couture.
[dings]
[crowd cheering]
[squeals, laughs]
-Oh, look, she's in the lead! -[Vi gasps, laughs]
Come on!
-[squeals] -It's in front.
Come on! [gasping]
-[crowd groaning] -[whimpers]
♪
ANNOUNCER: It's Clever Count,
Blue Streak, and Stormy Bay.
And would you look at that-- Haute Couture has just
woken up and remembered what she's here for.
[announcement continues indistinctly]
Well... [sighs]
Hats off to you, girl.
You went for it.
I'll go find a St John's Ambulance.
They might have a tot of brandy.
For me.
You were right, Vi-- all that money.
My Eddie'd be ashamed of me.
I'll be right back, huh?
Nothing wrong with dreaming, Ada, hmm?
When I came to London,
the streets were paved with my dreams.
[sighs] That's what you are.
You're a dreamer.
Plain as the nose on your face.
[lighter flicks]
♪
[knocking]
Give over, Vi. I'm all right.
MAN: Mrs. Harris?
Mrs. Edward Harris?
It's about your husband.
ADA: Sit down, please.
Sergeant Harris wasn't declared missing in action
until April the 19th.
Uh, yeah, that's when I got the telegram.
It's a day after his birthday.
Ah, yes.
Well, um, as we now know,
Flight Polo Lima 326 crashed on March the 2nd, 1944,
meaning that Sergeant Harris was paid
for almost seven weeks after his death.
At, um, six shillings a day.
Is that what you come to tell me?
After all this time.
That my Eddie owes you back pay?
When he never owed a penny in his life.
When he give up his life for king and country.
You got a nerve.
Coming into my home, drinking my tea,
blackening his name.
-Um... -How much do you want?
How much? And then you can leave.
I-I think you've got the wrong end of the stick.
Oh, have I? Well, I'll tell you
where you can shove your stick in a minute,
-if you don't watch out. -Oh, golly, no. Um, I, uh...
I'm here to give you money, Mrs. Harris,
-not-not to take it from you. -I've had enough of...
What'd you say?
Y-Yes. Righto.
Uh, you should have been receiving
a-a war widow's pension since 1944.
It comes to quite a tidy sum, uh, with that small deduction.
So long as you haven't remarried.
Oh, give over.
He might have come back any minute,
I'd have looked a right Charlie.
-[chuckles] -Uh...
well...
[coins clink on table]
I suppose you'd better sit down.
Have that cup of tea after all.
Um, no milk.
VI: She's never done a thing wrong her whole life, sir.
She went a bit crazy on account of some dress,
but she's fine now.
POLICEMAN: Nothing to worry about.
-ADA: Oh, hello. -Mrs. Harris?
You come to tell me I got the crown jewels?
She's still not right in the head.
Almost. That diamond clip you handed in--
the owner wants to give you a reward
-for being an honest citizen. -[laughs]
Oh! She is, sir, honest to a fault.
Come in and have a cup of tea.
Don't mind if I do. Thank you.
Oh, come on, Vi. We can have a knees-up.
ARCHIE: Oi, wait for me.
And, uh, you might want to break out the bubbly.
You having another lucky day, Archie?
As a matter of fact, I am, and so are you.
News travels fast.
So, that bet you put on that two-legged dog...
Oh, y-yeah, don't... don't worry about that.
I've come to me senses.
[chuckles]: No, the boss was there,
so I had to take the money,
but I managed to hold back a tenner.
You shouldn't have done that, Archie.
You could have got into trouble.
All tickety-boo, Mrs. Harris?
Oh, sorry, I didn't realize you had company.
Hello. What's going on here?
-ADA: Oh. -For the love of Mike.
-Uh, I'll see you later. -ADA: Uh, no, Archie, Archie.
Uh, can you just give me a moment?
-It-it's personal. -[Vi whistles]
-That the kettle calling? -Ah, righto.
[door closes]
What's going on? Something up?
It's a long story.
What were you saying?
So, I took your money
and put it on a sure thing in the last race.
And, um...
...your stake back and a wee bit more.
Oh, n-no, Archie, I couldn't.
-I... -It's your money. Take it.
I can't keep it, woman.
PC Plod in there would have my license. Come on.
[laughing]
Just promise me a dance at the Legion.
Thanks, Archie.
Much obliged.
Blimey.
[chuckles]
[plane rattling]
Are we flying?
[intercom chimes]
FLIGHT ATTENDANT: We're terribly sorry,
ladies and gentlemen.
There seems to be a fault with one engine.
There will be a slight delay
while we try and fix the problem.
Delay?
How long?
I've got to be there and back in a day.
♪
[snores softly]
[gasps, whispers]: Oh, God.
[gasps]
Paris.
♪
-[indistinct chatter] -[horn honks]
Righto, Paris, here I come.
It's a fair old walk.
[traffic rumbling]
-[man coughs] -[Ada sniffs]
[train whistle blows]
[announcement in French over P.A.]
Oh. Um...
bonjour.
Beg your pardon?
[laughs]
[men laughing]
Hey.
ADA: Thank you. Yeah.
Um, I'm here to buy a dress.
From Dior.
-Dior? -[all muttering]
Ah, oui.Me also.
[laughter]
Is it far-- Dior?
Oh... [sighs]
20 minutes.
Uh, but after you take wine, two hours.
[laughter]
I walk you there.
[burps]
Tomorrow morning, eh?
Oh, no, no, thanks.
I couldn't, no.
[grunts]
[chuckles]
[men laughing]
All right, go on, then. [laughs]
Oh, blimey. [laughs]
[laughter]
♪
ADA: Why is all this rubbish on the streets?
MICHEL: The big boss cheats...
[speaks French]
-The worker, yes? -Yeah, yeah.
The worker say, "No more."
The binmen are on strike?
Ah, yes.
Now all Paris, uh, smells, uh...
[sniffs]
...uh, like me. [laughs]
[laughing]
Oh, God.
You are a noble woman.
And remember, in France, the worker is king.
♪
[crowd murmuring]
-[grunts] -Oh, miss!
You all right, love?
-Did you hurt yourself? -No. Sorry.
Thank you.
-Are you sure? -Yes.
Oh.
Miss?
Miss!
[crowd murmuring]
-[door bangs shut] -ADA: No, miss.
Ooh-ooh! Miss!
Miss?
Here you go.
Once again, you save me, madame.
-[chuckles]: Oh. -I'm sorry. I'm very late.
-Oh. -Thank you.
It's all right. As long as you're in one piece.
[chuckles]
Ooh.
♪
Ooh, uh...
♪
Oh. Excuse me, dear.
-Where would I find the frocks? -[gasps softly]
I fear you have the wrong address, madame.
I will call someone to show you the way.
-[ringing] -ADA: No. No, no.
Sorry. I'm-I'm... I'm after a frock.
One of them 500-pound ones.
Please, if you could wait over here,
somebody will attend you directly.
[quiet chatter]
Now, hang on. Excuse me.
Madame, I-I was here first, before any of this lot.
Ain't you heard of queuing?
Excuse me. Look, I'm sorry.
-Please. -I'm-I'm... I'm not one to make a fuss,
but where I come from,
shopgirls are pleased to be of service.
-Shopgirls? -[light laughter]
This lady wishes to buy a dress.
Direct her to a suitable shop.
Go.
Uh, please let me escort you out.
No, no, no, no, no, hang on a minute.
I've come miles.
Saved every penny scrubbing floors
and I don't know what so I can buy this frock.
A Christian Dior gown is not for pennies.
Right.
If you think I ain't got the money...
there.
Oh là l.
-Are you Mr. Dior? -[chuckles]
Oh, oh, no, I'm Mr. Fauvel, accounts.
Let me help you with the...
Excuse me, chère madame, but it would be my honor
to have you view the collection as my guest.
There you are.
Merci.
Shall we?
Oh. [chuckles]
[chuckles nervously]
[chuckles]
♪
It's here.
Thank you.
[claps and shushes]
When you see the dress you want,
you can write the number down here.
Oh. [chuckles]
[clears throat softly]
[sniffing]
Oh, I was just admiring your buttonhole.
Oh.
-It's Louise Odier. -Ah?
Yes, it's lovely. Proper scent.
Are you a connoisseur of roses?
My husband Eddie worked at Covent Garden,
the flower market.
He was always bringing home odds and ends, you know.
[chuckles] Roses are me favorite.
You after a dress for your wife?
Ooh. Lucky woman.
My wife is dead.
Oh, I do beg your pardon, sir.
My clumsy clogs.
My Eddie and all.
Oh, um...
But yes, uh, my wife and I would come here together.
I like to see beautiful clothes.
And beautiful women, of course.
[chuckles]
[Ada sniffling]
-[soft orchestral music plays] -[chuckling]: Oh, here we go.
[chuckles]
[applause]
Ooh.
[crowd murmuring]
Oh, that's lovely.
[gasps] Oh.
[applause]
[shuddering]: Oh, will you look.
[applause]
Oh, that's lovely.
[gasps]
[sighs]
[Marguerite speaking French]
MARGUERITE: Vénus.
-What number's that? -73.
-Vénus.Yes. -73. Vénus.
♪
-What number's that? -89.
Temptation.
Oh, yeah.
[quiet, indistinct chatter]
♪
[excited chatter]
Bravo!
Who's that bloke?
Well, that's the master himself, Monsieur Dior.
Go on.
-He looks like my milkman. -[laughs]
[quiet chatter]
Well, good luck, madame.
I hope you find what you're looking for.
Oh, well... [chuckles]
Here.
You do not wish to keep it?
Yeah, it's-it's lovely. Thank you.
Enchanté.
Don't mind me.
-Yes, madame? -Oh.
Have you made your selection?
Yes. Um... [laughs]
Number 89, please. Temptation.
Of course.
-Your name, please. -Harris.
Mrs. Ada Harris.
My apologies, madame.
-Excusez-moi. -Oh, yeah.
-Ah. -Oh. Ta-da.
Madame Harris, I regret...
Well, there is a difficulty with Temptation.
It seems Madame Avallon demands it.
How's that work, then? You only got the one dress?
I'm sorry. Madame insists on exclusivity.
Madame Avallon is one of our most devoted clients.
And her husband is known as "The King of Rubbish."
But we would be so sorry if you were to leave Maison Dior
without a purchase.
And you also wrote number 73 on your card.
-Oh. -Vénus.
Yeah, I never thought nothing could be more beautiful.
Not till I saw Temptation.
An excellent choice, madame.
Yeah. How much is it?
Vénusis 600,000 francs.
ANDREÉ: 430 pounds.
Wrap it up. I got a plane to catch.
-I'm a day late as it is. -[André stammering]
Oh, you cannot have this gown.
Oh, don't tell me someone wants that exclusive and all.
Mais Madame Harris, every dress is made
and fitted individually for the client.
Yes, this is haute couture.
We will, of course, reproduce Vénusexactly as you saw it,
but the thing is...
Make me one?
How long's that gonna take?
Well, at least two weeks.
Ooh. At least.
Several fittings are necessary.
What, leave my people for a fortnight?
They'd find someone else, and then I'd be out on the streets.
[gasps] Vite, vite, to the airport, then.
I would not forgive myself if you missed your flight.
-What, without my dress? -Excusez-moi.
Perhaps there is a friend you can call?
Someone who can assist you with your cleaning.
Well, uh, there's Vi,
but I've tried her patience enough as it is.
Anyway, she's not on the phone.
Uh, we might send her a telegram.
Uh, Mrs. Harris,
uh, it might be possible to encourage
the cutter and seamstress to work a little faster.
And Madame Vi could fill you in for one week, perhaps?
Well...
you're kind, but I can't.
Anyway, I got nowhere to stay.
I'll have to give it a miss.
My sister is away.
If you... would accept, um,
you could stay at my place, uh, in my sister's room.
You're a proper angel, aren't you?
It'll be my pleasure.
Um, we can have your measurements taken at once.
N'est-ce pas, Madame Colbert?
Come, Madame Harris. Come.
-Oh. -We must be quick.
S'il vous plaît.
Oh. [chuckles]
-Bravo, madame. -Bravo.
[chuckling]
-Please, madame. -Oh.
You don't get all this hoo-ha
when you buy a frock down Woolworths.
Well, I can tell you such things
do not happen every day here, either.
Ah, the lady who must have her dress...
[speaks French]
Your coat, please.
Oh.
-Et le cardigan. -Yeah, me cardy.
Thank you very much.
Oh.
Madame has the proportions of a model.
[chuckles]
Model railway, more like.
[laughter]
One of the curvy bits.
[laughter continues]
Oh, thank you.
Thank you very much.
[sighs]
Madame?
Oh. [chuckles]
May I give you a lift?
Oh, well, if it's no bother.
No.
Uh, I'm going to Mr. Fauvel's.
The 18th, yes. That's easy.
-Oh, forgive the mess. -Oh. [chuckles]
Is he a friend of yours, Mr. Fauvel?
No. No, I-I know Mr. Fauvel
only as the hand that signs my check.
Oh. [laughs]
Oh.
[slowly]: L'être et le néant.
It's, uh, "Being and Not Being."
I like to curl up with a juicy mystery meself.
[both chuckling]
♪
Oh, look, there's the Eiffel Tower.
Oh, that's lovely.
[indistinct chatter]
Oh. [laughs]
That's the opera.
May I help you with your luggage?
[scoffs] Nothing in it yet.
Oh. That's something, innit?
Ooh.
I don't think his sister knows where the mop is.
There must be a dustpan and brush somewhere.
NATASHA: Uh...
Oh.
Oh, you don't have to do that, love.
You must have better things to do.
No, not really.
After the défilé,there's always
a certain feeling of emptiness.
Oh.
All right, ducks. [chuckles]
Oh. Aha.
-Now we're in business. -[both laugh]
ANDREÉ: Oh.
-Mrs. Harris? -ADA: Hello, love.
ANDREÉ: Mademoiselle.
ADA: She's a good worker.
I can always find you a job, my girl,
if the modeling don't work out.
[chuckles]
No, no.
Oh! Oh! [groans]
[chuckles]
M-Mrs. Harris has cooked the dinner.
You look like you could do with a good square meal,
the pair of you.
Well, Mademoiselle Natasha has other engagements.
I'm sure the face of Dior is always at a party or premiere.
There's a soiréelater.
Come on. Grub's up.
Here we are.
Don't let it get cold.
-Bon appétit. -Bon appétit.
My Eddie's favorite.
Be even better if we had a bit of gravy.
Um, and what's the dish named?
Toad-in-the-hole.
[chuckles]
What a lot of books, Mr. Fauvel.
ANDREÉ: Oh.
Natasha's got a corker, a murder-mystery.
Don't you, ducks?
We should speak English.
Oh, yeah. Of course.
Um, I-I'm interested to learn
that Mademoiselle Natasha is reading a book
-by the French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre. -Oh.
The author asks us to consider the case of the waiter.
Is the waiter the waiter, or is it just an expression
of what the waiter is?
Um, similarly, am I the accountant,
or is that an outward impression?
Um, is Mademoiselle Natasha only the most beautiful,
the most exquisitely divine Parisian model, or...
Or is there another person behind the facade?
Yes.
Is Mrs. Harris the cleaner,
or is there more to define her existence?
Exactement.
I'm a cleaner from Battersea. No mystery there.
Uh, no, you're a cleaner who dreams
of the most beautiful gown in the world.
Oh, dreams, eh?
[laughing]: God knows what Vi is gonna say
when she gets that blooming telegram.
[all laughing]
[knocking at door]
ANDREÉ: Mrs. Harris?
Uh, please help yourself to my sister's clothes.
Oh, thanks, love. Um, I'm all right.
ANDREÉ: Uh, she would insist.
Good night.
Night, love.
Sweet dreams.
♪
[inhales deeply]
♪
-Ooh! -[laughs]
Stand straight, madame.
-Oh! [laughs] -Non, mais...
Keep still. Why do you move?
Sorry. Sorry.
[gasps] Princess Margaret?
Oh, I like her.
You can see a little bit of mischief in her eye.
Our distinguished clients demand our utmost discretion.
That's all for today.
Little bit of that one goes a long way, don't it?
What's eating her?
Well, the more grand the client, the more difficult.
Their wishes must be accommodated always,
even if it means starting afresh.
-And they do not pay until delivery. -Oh!
If then.
There are so many salaries to find.
The fabric, braid, embroidery, buttons
all must be the very best.
The pressure is on everyone:
on Mr. Fauvel and the accounts,
on Madame Colbert and the seamstresses,
even on Monsieur Dior himself, always such pressure.
Well, no wonder Mr. Fauvel was so pleased
to see my little handbag.
Well, in truth, Madame Harris, all of us fear
the House of Dior cannot keep going this way.
♪
[man speaking French]
COLBERT: Oui, monsieur.
[Colbert speaking French]
You all right, love?
Wakey, wakey.
They're calling for you.
Oh.
Um, I'm sorry.
-I'm just tired. -Mm-hmm.
You could do with a little holiday.
It's doing me the power of good already.
Yes, that would be nice.
By myself at the seaside,
where nobody...
I'm sorry.
-I must go. Thank you. -Oh.
[chatter continues quietly in French]
Thank you.
[birds chirping]
How was your fitting, madame?
Oh.
Well, if it isn't my old pal, Mr. Rosebud.
I regret we were not properly introduced.
Marquis Hypolite de Chassagne.
Ooh.
Ada Harris, widow of Battersea.
Who's this fine fella?
-This is Nesquik. -Oh.
So, I trust Monsieur Dior fulfills your heart's desire?
Oh, they're being ever so kind.
Louise Odier. I'd forgotten the name.
Oh, I must show you something.
Please, I won't detain you long.
[Ada chuckles]
♪
So, tell me, how are you enjoying your time in Paris?
[birds chirping]
[indistinct chatter]
My wife adored the Marché aux Fleurs.
ADA: Mm.
We came here almost until the end.
It's been seven years now.
We mend, but we don't forget.
When you display your Dior dress to the world,
-it will be perfection. -[chuckling]: Oh.
My pal Vi thinks I'm barmy.
[Ada chuckles]
"What do you want that dress for?
When are you gonna wear it?" [laughs]
Oh, I do not question your desire
for a gown of such quality,
even if it is for your eyes alone.
No, no, on the contrary, I understand.
You see, a rose like this one
or a beautiful gown such as yours,
they... they recall the days
when we were in the full flower of our youth.
Oi, don't write me off just yet.
[both laugh]
-Oh, a thousand apologies. -[chuckling]: Oh, no.
Please, allow me to make amends.
Have you any arrangements for tonight?
[lively folk music playing]
Voilà.
Oh, thank you.
♪
Some champagne?
Uh, oh, yes, please.
Just a drop. [chuckles]
Thank you.
Now, you-you must try the caviar.
Oh. Right.
-Cheers. -Cheers.
-Nice, huh? -Mm.
Uh, oh, hello! [laughs]
[both laughing]
I don't think that getup's gonna fool anyone. Do you?
[menacing music playing]
Lovely girls.
Hmm. Soon, you'll see how lovely.
[chuckles]
-[jazzy music playing] -[whooping, applause]
Ooh! Oh. Steady on. [laughs]
Blimey, they earn their keep, them girls.
Well, least when I'm cleaning,
I don't have to smile and strip as well.
[both chuckle]
Bonsoir,Mrs. Harris.
-Natasha. Hello, love. -[laughs]
Hello.
Bonsoir, mademoiselle.
-Would you like to join us? -Uh, yes, please.
Who are you here with, then?
Investors.
I escape but only for a moment.
They don't half keep you at it, all day and all night as well.
For Maison Dior, this is my obligation.
MARQUIS: Ah, well, Dior is not just about gowns.
It's also about elegance and decadence
and the savoir-vivreof Paris, and...
and you, Mademoiselle Natasha, you are the jewel
-of this Dior crown. -[Ada and Natasha chuckle]
Well, I would prefer to be at home with a book.
ADA: It's funny you should say that.
I've left Mr. Fauvel at home reading a book.
It was called...
"Nosy"? Something like that.
-La nausée? -Don't know.
Why does he tolerate the fashion house
compared to his world of Sartre and the intellect?
Well, I-I think he has his reasons.
♪
Do you enjoy the show?
Yeah, the one... the one at the end, she...
she's a dead ringer for my Aunt Tilda.
From behind.
[laughter]
Well, this was lovely, but I should go.
Thank you.
Oh, just-just a minute, love.
Your fringe.
There's a little gap.
That's it.
You have made a conquest.
Oh, get away with you.
You dare to follow your dreams, Mrs. Harris.
-Bravo. -Oh.
Bye, love.
-Bonsoir. -Bonsoir, Natasha.
♪
-Some more champagne? -Oh, just a drop.
[laughing]: I've got me fitting at 9:30.
[Marquis chuckles]
-[music ends] -[cheering and applause]
[upbeat, percussive music playing]
♪
[music fades]
[clock ticking]
[siren passing]
[man shouting in distance]
[gasps, groans]
[grunts]
[gasps] Oh, God!
♪
-[horn honks] -Oh, Gordon Bennett!
Oh, oh!
Oh! Oh!
Careful!
-[tires screech] -Oh, oh, oh! [whimpers]
Oh!
[tires squeal]
[workers shouting]
[shuddering sigh]
I can't believe this.
[whimpering]
[whimpers]
Sorry!
[panting]: Sorry. Sorry.
-I'm so sorry. -No, no, no.
This is not possible, not at all.
No, no, no, please, I-I'm... I'm never late. I...
R-Really, I'm not. I'm never late. Sorry.
You demand of us, "Vite, vite, vite,"
but you have no respect.
No, this cannot be done.
Not at all.
Now I depart.
This is finished.
No, no, no, no. Please, please, p-please, Mr. Carré.
Madame Colbert, please.
Monsieur Carré refuses to proceed.
What can I do?
ADA: No. No, of course, I...
No, I understand.
[stammering]: Yeah, of course I do. I do.
[sniffles]
Dior, it's-it's not just a gown.
It's, um...
It's all the elegance and-and the savvy and all that.
I-I know that.
I will see what can be done to return your deposit.
No, I don't...
I-I...
I don't want... I don't want me deposit.
Right Champagne Charlie, aren't I?
Serves me right, living the high life.
I do respect you, all of you.
Never mind, eh?
Thanks, love.
You've been ever so kind.
Madame Harris, would you care to see the atelier
before you leave?
Ooh. [chuckles]
-Bonjour, mesdames. -WOMAN: Bonjour.
So, this room is for cutting.
-WOMAN: Bonjour. -Morning.
♪
Structure du couture.
♪
MARGUERITE: Unstructured couture.
♪
[machines rattling quietly]
MARGUERITE: Passementerie.
MARGUERITE: Plumassier.
MARGUERITE: Broderie.
[Marguerite speaking French, voice echoing]
♪
It's not sewing.
It's making moonlight.
[chuckles softly]
Have I gone to heaven?
[laughs]
[laughter]
[laughter stops]
[quiet chatter]
♪
[workers shouting outside]
I have stood at Monsieur Dior's shoulder
day and night for ten years,
since le maîtreunveiled his first collection.
The most fashionable women in the world
come to the Avenue Montaigne.
Royalty and courtesans,
thin, fat, young, old, ugly,
or with a certain je ne sais quoi.[chuckles]
Hmm.
But then there is you, Mrs. Harris.
All my time as directress,
I have never encountered anyone like you.
[chuckles]: Oh.
In my walk of life, you meet all sorts.
As a good boss, I must keep my workers happy,
and their wish is to complete your dress.
[chuckles]: Oh. Much obliged.
So you will do me the courtesy of answering my questions, no?
Yeah.
Oh. Bottoms up.
[chuckles]
Why do you come here, Mrs. Harris?
EÉvidemment,the rich and titled must be seen, admired, copied.
But this Dior dress that you desire so much,
where will you wear it?
At the Vienna Opera Ball or Queen Charlotte's?
Will you wear it to polish floors,
or will you keep it shut in your little wardrobe?
A Dior dress is designed to astonish and delight.
How will you do that, Mrs. Harris?
You... [chuckles]
Forgive me for saying this, but you are nobody, invisible.
How will you give this dress the life it deserves?
It's my dream.
And my money's as good as anybody else's.
Bien sûr. Hmm.
You may buy your dream, but what will you do with it?
[knocking at door]
-Oui, entrez. -[door opens]
Mrs. Harris, these are for you.
Ooh.
From Monsieur le Marquis.
[chuckles]: Oh.
He wishes that you visit for tea tomorrow.
Le Marquis de Chassagne?
But... [chuckles] he receives nobody.
But I am nobody, aren't I?
[chuckles]
♪
I never thought a place like Dior would have problems.
I saw that dress,
and I thought of dreams and fairy tales.
[chuckles] Yes, we are like a fairy tale.
Lovely but not real.
Is there a place for that today?
Oh, we need our dreams.
Now more than ever.
If you can have this, why do you need Dior?
Haute couture is a vanity for us and our clients.
In truth, I don't think the House of Dior can survive.
No, love, that would be a tragedy.
You can't allow that to happen.
Well, I have an idea,
but it requires a new way of thinking.
What? Bossy Boots in the way?
Madame Colbert, she guards the temple.
She let a cleaning lady buy a Dior gown.
Money talks.
Yes, and you know what it says,
so you have to do something about it.
I know you can. You're ever so clever.
You're the only one who believes.
[clicks tongue, chuckles]
-[cheering and applause] -What's going on here?
It looks like a premiere.
ADA: Ooh!
Oh, exciting. [chuckles]
Oh, that's Jean Fabre, the movie star.
[cheering]
Mm, and don't he know it?
[both chuckle]
[cheering, whistling]
Oh, it's Natasha! Oh!
-Natasha! Ooh-ooh! -What are you doing? No, no.
-ADA: Natasha! -ANDREÉ: No.
Hello.
Good evening, Mrs. Harris.
You look lovely.
Thank you.
Bonsoir, Monsieur Fauvel.
Bonsoir.Um, we didn't know you were, uh...
We were just passing.
So, what are you two doing this evening?
-ADA: Oh, well... Oh. -Natasha.
NATASHA: I'm sorry. I-I must go.
It was great to see you.
Oh, yeah. Ta-ta, love.
[cheering]
[camera clicks]
I think it's just for show.
I'm not sure that he's the marrying kind.
Mrs. Harris, I-I beg of you,
you-you need to stop this coupling thing
-before I die of humiliation. -Oh...
Please. Enough!
All right. I'm not deaf.
Of course I'm in love with Natasha.
I mean, who isn't?
I'm sorry, but life is not all moonlight and movies.
Why can't it be?
I've spent too long on my own, wishing my life away.
You don't want to do the same thing.
Mrs. Harris, I think your dreams of romance
fit Paris very well.
Forgive me, but perhaps it is you
who wishes to be in love.
You who must attend to your own heart.
♪
ADA: Come on, Eddie, say something, love.
Try and make some sense of this, 'cause I can't.
[sighs]
This is all your doing.
Coming up with the readies to get your girl to Paris.
[short chuckle]
Paris.
To meet someone?
[hums a tune]
Ah.
Shall we?
♪
The girls at Dior say my dress is almost finished.
Yeah. Maybe tomorrow.
And then I'll be... I'll be back off home.
Yeah, it's lovely.
[chuckling]: Really, really lovely.
That rubbish lady's welcome to hers.
[both laugh]
And here's the irony.
Monsieur Dior makes exquisite poems for beautiful women
in celebration of their freshness and perfection
only to see them carried away by old frumps.
Like that dreadful Madame Avallon.
Oh, yeah.
Whereas, of course, there are those who retain
a certain je ne sais quoi,
an indefinable allure.
-[door opens] -Ah.
Allow me to present to you a pot of English tea.
Oh, just the job.
Hmm. Merci, Maria.
And now we let the pot brew.
-Is that the correct form, yes? -That's the ticket.
I'll have to knit you a tea cozy.
[both chuckle]
Yes, for reasons that were never clear to me,
I was sent as a boy of six
to a boarding school in Windsor,
and that's where I acquired a taste for tea
and of all things English.
While we wait,
there's something I would like you to see.
Come with me.
There.
ADA [chuckling]: Oh. Oh.
Six years old, you poor mite.
Well, home was not much better.
But yes, I suffered.
I was a weak little boy, perpetually bullied.
Oh. [chuckles softly]
You know, as soon as I saw you,
I felt this connection in my heart.
I don't know, perhaps...
your smile, your kindness, your...
your English humor.
I knew you reminded me of someone,
someone very dear to me, but who?
And only yesterday, as I searched my memories,
did I realize there was a person who took care of me.
Her life was one of tireless drudgery,
and yet she found the time to comfort me and dry my tears.
Her name was Mrs. Maddox,
but we used to call her Mrs. Mops.
There. [chuckles]
I-I remind you of Mrs. Mops?
-Ah, yes. -The cleaner?
Mrs. Mops dried my tears and made me smile again,
as you have, Mrs. Harris, these past few days.
I do wish my Delphine could have known you.
You see, you give comfort to those in need
without asking anything in return.
Is that right?
-Is that how you see me? -[chuckles]
You see why there is a connection between us?
Now, let's have a nice cup of English tea, shall we?
Uh, no, thank you.
I'd best be getting along.
They're expecting me at the salon.
[stammers]
♪
Marguerite?
What's the matter?
[workers continue shouting]
In you go.
What's this about you letting all these girls go?
Ooh. You all right, love?
COLBERT: It would not be necessary
if they worked for free, as you do.
They need their jobs. They've got families to feed.
Excusez-moi.
Yes, it is very sad, but this is not of your concern.
Well, we'll see about that.
Please, madame, you have reached
into every corner of this establishment.
Now, I insist that you respect our privacy.
Hmm.
Where are you going, Mrs. Harris?
To see the boss.
-You cannot. No. -Come on, girls.
-COLBERT: Please. No. -Follow me. Vite, vite.
[machines rattling]
Here we go, girls. Come on.
Down tools.
Come on, get behind me. Join us.
Yeah, got a really important job today.
-Ooh, you look lovely, but come on. -Mrs. Harris!
-Come and do this for me. -Mrs. Harris!
You must stop this at once.
You have no idea what you are doing.
Oh, yes, I do.
It's called a strike.
[laughs]
Right, ladies, come on.
Follow me. No time for that, dear.
Oi! No need to push and shove. Come on.
[André speaking French]
On your feet, André. There's work to be done.
Mrs. Harris, I beg of you, do not do this.
This is your chance, André, and how many chances
-do you get in your lifetime? -No, look...
Monsieur Dior, ten minutes of your time, please.
That's all Mr. Fauvel needs to save the company.
Me? What do I-I...
Go on, pet. You can do it. Tell him your plan.
-Uh... -Go on.
[sighs, stammers]
Rather than the world coming to Avenue Montaigne,
Dior must go out to the world
with a range of goods available to all.
Uh, perfume, stockings, luxury that...
that the ordinary woman can afford.
Oui.
What?
Oh, right.
Good luck, love.
♪
[lock clicks]
-[workers shouting] -Merci.
♪
[clears throat]
[sighs]
But today, there's a new woman,
a modern woman who knows what she wants
and needs to be able to buy it.
Today, there's Mrs. Harris.
[chuckles]: Oh.
The maître'sagreement to our plan means that,
far from losing jobs, we will need more.
Many, many more.
[cheering]
♪
WOMAN: Bravo!
♪
Are you sure this is the right street?
Must be. This is where I send her check every month.
There won't be a speck of dust inside.
-You can bet your life. -[dog barking nearby]
-ANDREÉ: This is it. -[car passes]
No.
Leave me in peace.
Just a word.
Why? I concede.
The victory is yours, Mrs. Harris.
My husband-- he was damaged in the war.
He requires constant care.
Which you either do or pay for.
No wonder you got all that front on you.
Say what you want, please.
Madame, I'm so sorry to have offended you.
I hold you in the highest regard, and it was
never my intention to force a change on...
The future you describe makes perfect sense,
but I want no part of it.
ANDREÉ: Uh, no, please.
You must not think of leaving.
Perhaps I have been too long in my post,
too long the invisible woman behind the great man.
[chuckles] Fighting talk.
You go, girl.
I'm not a revolutionary like you, Mrs. Harris.
I simply wish to be left alone.
Well, that's... that's all fine and dandy,
and Lord knows you deserve it,
but you know it'll fall apart without you, don't you?
Trust me, I've seen it over and over.
When the lady ups and leaves, the gent don't last ten minutes.
You're needed.
Now more than ever.
Who else is gonna keep things up to scratch?
[laughing]: Not André or Monsieur Dior.
What would two men know about that?
You and me, you know, we're two peas in a pod.
We clean up everybody's mess
and make everything in the garden lovely.
We're the ones they rely on.
They don't even know what we do,
but as sure as eggs is eggs, without us,
it all goes tits up.
[chuckles softly]
Perhaps a conversation with le maîtreis required.
Perhaps. [chuckles softly]
And tomorrow, you tell Natasha how you feel.
Oh, but Mademoiselle Natasha has left Dior.
She's leaving Paris.
Like you, Mrs. Harris, she wishes to follow her dream.
Keep looking, love. She's got to be here somewhere.
She's gone. It's for the best.
You're gonna get yourself
a good clip round the ear in a minute if you don't...
Hang on.
Hang on a minute. I know.
[train whistle blares]
Here.
Oh.
[chuckles]: Oh. Madame Dior.
Magnifique.
Oh, well, not so bad yourself.
[laughter]
Uh, we're looking for a girl.
Um, she's... she's a bit upset.
Um...
She's a Dior model.
-Oh, Natasha. -Natasha.
This life, it's-it's not for me.
ADA: No, of course it isn't.
Stuck on a pedestal,
paraded around like a beautiful doll.
Anyone can see the girl doesn't want it.
Mrs. Harris is right.
It's not who I am.
As Sartre would say, y-you find yourself conflicted
between être-en-soi et être-pour-soi.
Between "for itself" and "in itself."
EÊtre-en-soibeing those aspects of human life
that involves consciousness,
whereas physical facts are être-pour-soi.
NATASHA: In which case,
things would be what they are not.
Exactement.
Things are what they are not,
and they're not what they're not.
André, for God's sake, just kiss her.
Yes. For God's sake, just kiss me.
[men chuckling]
Hmm.
[chuckles]
[sighs]
You did not find love in Paris, Madame Dior?
-Oh, no. No. -Oh. [chuckles]
I thought it was too late, but...
...now I'm not so sure.
[both chuckling]
♪
-[bicycle bell dings] -[quiet chatter]
[train rattling]
-Hello, love. -WOMAN: Hello, Ada.
[door creaks]
[sighs]
[water running]
[knocking at door]
-[loud pounding at door] -Oh. All right, all right.
Gordon Bennett.
-[knocking continues] -All right.
[laughing]: All right.
Oh, hello, love. Come in.
Oh, thank God you're back.
Oh, well, not long.
Do you want a cuppa?
No time.
-This is an emergency. -Oh. Right.
Okay, well, deep breath and tell me what's up.
I can't go, but if I don't...
Oh, it's so important to make a good impression, you know?
I do. Who you trying to impress?
Mr. Korngold, the producer.
I'm to partner him to the big dinner at the Café Royal.
-Ooh. -Everybody will be there.
It's a priceless opportunity.
But look.
Oh, well, yeah, it's a bit... it's a bit crumpled,
but we can steam that out in a jiffy, love.
-Don't you worry. -No, look.
ADA: Oh.
Oh, dear. Yeah, that's not gonna come out
without a good, long soak.
I'm not sure the satin's gonna like that.
Ain't you got another one?
What about that lovely blue dress?
-It's at the cleaner's. -Oh.
Oh, my God.
I'm going to die. [sobs]
All right. Come on, now. That's enough.
Nobody wants to hear that.
But you don't understand.
Nearly all Mr. Korngold's girls become stars.
It's my chance to lift myself out of the rut
and be seen at last. [sobs]
Well, being seen isn't everything, love.
It is for me.
[Pamela crying]
♪
[Pamela sniffling]
Come on. Stand up.
It's your lucky day.
What?
Why?
'Cause I think I can help you.
You just said you couldn't.
I can't do anything if you don't get up.
Right.
Take off your clothes. You can borrow my dress.
[laughs]
Don't be ridiculous.
Just do as I say, and a bit less of your nonsense.
Go on, behind the screen.
PAMELA: Mrs. Harris?
♪
Oh.
You look lovely, ducks.
Just the ticket.
How was your trip? I should've asked.
-Where did you go? -Oh.
Paris. Yeah, it was...
You said you'd only be gone a day.
Everything went to pieces without you.
It was magical.
I mean, you know how tidy I am-- normally.
So romantic.
Mrs. H.
You dark horse.
[chuckles]: Oh.
[horn honking]
Oh, God. That's him.
Oh. He knew where to come, then?
I knew you'd rescue me, darling.
You're my fairy godmother.
[chuckles]
[thunder rumbling]
[car door closes]
ADA: Hello.
Miss Penrose?
[sniffs, groans] Oh.
[scoffs]
PAMELA: Dear Mrs. H,
Sorry about the dress, but please don't worry.
I'm okay.
♪
I was checking my lipstick in the mirror
when suddenly I went up in flames.
[screams]
I might have burnt to a crisp
if a helpful friend hadn't come to my rescue.
[cameras clicking]
Mr. Korngold says I should sue.
Gone to my mum's to recover.
[keys jingle]
♪
[sighs]
[shuddering breath]
[seagulls squawking]
♪
[knocking at door]
[knocking continues]
[glass shatters]
[door opens]
VI: Ada?
You there?
ADA: Yeah.
Sorry, Vi.
[groans]
[dog barking in distance]
-[sighs] -VI: You give up the ghost, woman?
You want to scare us to death?
Oh, all right, Archie?
Uh, sorry about your door.
Uh, she was, um...
Best intentions and all.
I'll get some glass, yeah?
Fix it up good as new.
Thank you.
Well, there's no need to say a word.
You're famous.
At least the dress you gave up everything to go and get is.
Why you give it to that no-good girl, eh?
You're too soft, and that's the truth.
It had to be seen.
It's only right.
Oh, Vi.
I never got to wear it.
Not even once.
Oh, Ada, my darling.
I'm so sorry, eh?
Hey.
We don't need no fancy dresses.
We'll go shake our tail feather down at the Legion Dance,
and they'll all be looking at us.
Aw.
Oh, morning, Mr. Newcombe.
Enjoy your holiday, Mrs. Harris?
Very much, thank you.
Missed your touch about the place.
Oh. [chuckles]
Are you quite all right?
Not quite meself today.
Not sure who that is, even.
Bit of an existential crisis.
Paris will do that to you.
Chin up, Mrs. H.
The revolution is coming.
[whistles "La Marseillaise"]
♪
[gasps]
Did you read about the girl
who set fire to herself in a Dior gown?
[chuckles] Ghastly publicity stunt, I suppose.
What a waste.
Will you please accept my notice, Lady Dant?
I will require full and final settlement of your account
by the end of the week.
You can't leave me.
Them days are over when you can treat people like scum
and expect loyalty in return.
Yeah. Good day, milady.
There you go.
Be right as rain in no time.
[knocking at door]
-Who's that, then? -[knocking continues]
Mrs. Ada Harris?
-Sign here, please. -Oh.
-Thank you. -Just a mo'. There's more.
More?
[grunts]
[laughs]: Oh.
Are you sure? It's not me birthday.
You are Ada Harris?
Well, not sure about that, either.
[both laugh]
[sighs]
♪
[gasps]
♪
COLBERT: Chère Madame Harris,
We hope your return journey to London was pleasant,
but we were troubled by a photo we saw in the social pages.
We knew immediately that once again
you had been too kind.
ANDREÉ: It seems the rubbish king
was stealing from his workers.
Georges! Georges!
ANDREÉ: Since his assets were seized,
Madame Avallon failed to attend her final fitting
or settle the bill for her dress.
CARREÉ: We kept all your measurements, of course,
and were quickly able to alter it for you.
MARGUERITE: If it needs any final adjustments,
we know you have the skill to do these yourself.
[laughs]
ANDREÉ: We all agreed it was
the least we could do.
The publicity has resulted in a great increase in orders.
MARQUIS: You will no doubt recognize these blooms
as Princess Margaret's Delight.
We hope you enjoy the flowers
and that you will keep your new dress
well away from naked flames.
[quiet, indistinct chatter]
NATASHA: We send it to you with all our love
and our very warmest thanks.
DIOR: From Christian
and all your friends at the House of Dior.
[gasps softly]
[chuckles]
[band playing upbeat tune]
[quiet chatter, laughter]
Lovely. Thank you.
♪
[indistinct chatter]
G-Good to see you.
-See you later. -All right.
There you go, love.
Get that down you.
-Cheers. -Cheers.
♪
[crowd murmuring]
Thank you, Vi.
Oh, Ada.
[Vi gasps, sighs]
You all right, Archie?
Never better.
S-Sorry.
I just...
What?
You seem different.
Well, it's haute couture, you know?
Is it, now?
-[chuckles] -Know what?
It's not the frock. I mean, it's lovely and all,
but, uh...
no, it's you.
You...
You're just beautiful.
Thank you, Archie.
That's very nice of you.
No, I mean, you've always been beautiful.
Inside and out.
Just, there's something...
I don't know, like, a new spark or something.
[chuckles]
A je ne sais quoi?
-That'll be the fella. -[laughs]
I owe you a dance, don't I?
I think you do.
I'd like to claim that dance
with the loveliest girl in the room.
It's your lucky day.
[chuckles]: Oh.
All right.
[chuckles]
♪
There is hope for us all.
♪
[laughing]
♪
[music fades]