Fashionably Late
Classic Olivia Goldsmith – a vibrant and witty novel about fashion, family and what happens when having it all isn’t as easy as you thought.She’s got the designer label, but she hasn’t got the designer genes…Wherever she goes, Karen Khan is fashionably late. She can afford to be: the star of the New York fashion scene, with her own company, a handsome husband and a deal that could make her millions, she is the apple – and the envy – of everyone’s eye.But, at forty, is she too late for the ultimation in creation? Motherhood is proving to be elusive – as elusive as her own parentage – and as difficult as the cut-throat business of couture. Yet Karen is not one to take no for an answer, and late is better than never…
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OLIVIA GOLDSMITH
FASHIONABLY LATE
HarperCollinsPublishers
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 1994
Copyright © Olivia Goldsmith 1994
Olivia Goldsmith asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
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Source ISBN: 9780006479727
Ebook Edition © MAY 2015 ISBN: 9780008154073
Version: 2015-06-16
Contents
Chapter One: Reaping What You Sew
Chapter Three: Cut from a Different Cloth
Chapter Four: The Cutting Edge
Chapter Eight: Everyone Has One
Chapter Nine: Dressed for Success
Chapter Ten: Out of the Closet
Chapter Eleven: Marriage à la Mode
Chapter Twelve: Fashionable Collection
Chapter Thirteen: Hemming It Up
Chapter Fourteen: Dressing Her Wounds
Chapter Fifteen: A Friend in Tweed
Chapter Sixteen: What’s My Line?
Chapter Seventeen: Dollars and Scents
Chapter Eighteen: Dialing for Daughters
Chapter Nineteen: The Waist Land
Chapter Twenty: Whirling Dervitz
Chapter Twenty-One: Tongue in Chic
Chapter Twenty-Two: An Affair to Remember
Chapter Twenty-Three: By a Thread
Chapter Twenty-Four: Rags to Bitches
Chapter Twenty-Five: Paris When It Sizzles
Chapter Twenty-Six: Womb for Rent
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Fashion Plays
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Pulling the Wool
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Slaves to Fashion
Chapter Thirty-One: Cut on the Bias
Chapter Thirty-Two: In Stitches
Chapter Thirty-Three: Case Clothed
Chapter Thirty-Four: Fashion of the Times
Chapter Thirty-Five: A Stitch in Time
Chapter Thirty-Six: Nothing as it Seams
Chapter Thirty-Seven: Clothing Allowances
Chapter Thirty-Eight: For Whom the Belle Tolls
Chapter Thirty-Nine: What’s in a Name
Chapter Forty: A Horse With No Name
Chapter Forty-One: A Friend Indeed
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. Though it contains incidental references to actual people and places, these references are used merely to lend the fiction a realistic setting. All other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Fashionably late, Karen Kahn and her husband, Jeffrey, walked past the flash of photographers’ lights and into the Waldorf Astoria Hotel on Park Avenue. Karen felt, for that moment, that she had it all. Tonight was the annual award party and benefit held by the Oakley Foundation, and Karen was about to be honored with their Thirty-Eighth Annual American Fashion Achievement Award. If she couldn’t arrive fashionably late here, where could she?
Stepping through the lobby and into the Deco brass elevator, alone together for the last moment before the crush began, Karen looked at Jeffrey and couldn’t repress a grin. Soon, she’d be among the crème-de-la-crème of fashion designers, fashion press, and the wealthy society women who actually wore the fashions. Despite all of her hard work, despite dreaming that this could happen, Karen could hardly believe that she was the woman of the moment.
‘It’s taken me almost twenty years to become an overnight success,’ she wisecracked to Jeffrey, and he smiled down at her. Unlike Karen, who knew she was no more than ordinary-looking, Jeffrey was handsome. Karen was aware that tuxedos make even plain men good-looking, but she was still taken aback by how much they did for a looker like Jeffrey, who was both sexy and distinguished in his formal clothes. A lethal combo. The gleam of the black satin of his peaked lapels set off his thick pepper-and-salt hair. He was wearing the cabochon sapphire shirt studs and cuff links she had given him the night before. They perfectly matched the washed-denim blue of his eyes, as she knew they would.
‘Not a moment too soon,’ he said. ‘It’s important to schedule your Lifetime Achievement Award before your first face-lift.’
