The flash of the camera startled me. The noise was defeating a small space. Press were clamouring at the bit for bit of juicy gossip for the magazines on the glamorous centrepiece in the room. I managed to catch a glimpse between two gentleman shoulders and I was momentarily taking back by what I saw.
only middle of The room swarmed by guards was none another send Marilyn Monroe.
She is every inch the sex icon. Her slim legs peaked out from the slit in her silver dress, Beautiful stockings with a hint of a lace a garter, her tiny feet waiting ensconced in silver heels with the classic and uneven heel to give her her trademark walk. Her skin with the colour of Ivory even though it was heavily made up I noticed that she looked rather drawn and grey. She was being her charming self her but, her eyes lacked sparkle. She looked rather buxom in her gown however his face and arms looked thinner and beforehand when she accepted the flute of Champagne her hands shook with their eyes dancing around the room, she gave the impression of a frightened dove looking for her exit
After the press displaced the blonde beauty circled the ballroom chatting to other guests. Tonight was a charity function in Manhattan and as my husband was Chairman I was allowed to attend. Seeing as there were rumours of Marilyn’s decline on the ‘Prince and the showgirl’ set, it was probably a wise decision that she received some good press.
The Poor girl, she looked terribly lonely even with all these people here. Even her lover was ignoring her only posing for photos, Stage happiness.
I went over and sat next to her, I touched your shoulder lightly and she jumped spilling a little wine on her dress she hastily dabbed at it with a napkin her eyes flitting towards her manager who scowled at her.
“Don’t worry darling I said at least it wasn’t red wine!” She gave a false laugh and her wrap slipped revealing a purple bruise on a forearm, she’s saw me glance at it and she quickly cover herself up not meeting my eye.
A broken doll forced to be on display.