Those are Fake!
At the outdoor party, in a private park looking out to a part of the Pacific Ocean called Crystal Cove Reef Point, amidst the crowd all dressing like the characters in Fitzgerald's "The Great Gatsby", Sue suddenly misses the presence of her mother and her "non-nonsense" estimation of people.
Aiming her Nikon camera at the party goers, using it deliberately as a sort of official spyglass, Sue zooms in an elegant female figure, clad in a tight white crepe pant that delineate the bouncy curvature of her buttock like which of a great show horse on parade, above which the tan and tight belly shows, veiled only by some white illusion of a voile. Mounted on this strong and firm support,as creamy and lean as the trunk of an acacia, is a pair of marvelous globes carefully carved and cured like the domes of some great temples in the Far East.
"What would she say of these dazzling bosoms?" Thought Sue, trying hard to rekindle the memory of her late mother, her tone of voice when she judged, her piercing eyes observing, above her sagging pair of glasses, the object of her criticism.
"Those are fake," she remembered her saying privately, when her brother Daniel had brought home her first sweetheart, to present the family.
"Those?" had asked Sue, softly but amazingly, indicating with her gaze the pair of shiny black heels, which dangled from a dainty feet at an angle that showed Nine West, engraved in the bottom of the leather shoe.
"No, those." Her mother's head shook lightly, and the direction of her sharp eyes pointed straight to the elevated curves of its bearer.
"Mom!" The heat returns on Sue's face as if twenty years had reversed and she is still sitting conversing through mute communication with her mother, expressing their opinions of this, and that, sharing gossips of those and the others.
"I wish she can tell me about the nonsense of all this," Sue's camera clicks, her lens refocusing on another scene, "which is real, the happiness on those makeup faces, or the tears that many of them hold inside their heart, desperate to see their youth slowly evaporating, and the glitter soon would dull with the dust of time. What will be left when all this, and that, are gone?"