Fashion Kills Me Pt. 2 (She sells seashells)

So I went to work for the Seashore Queen.
I dont think she liked me particularly, due to the fact that whenever I addressed her she would roll her eyes and sidle sideways out the door. Also she was preoccupied with the limpit she was cultivating. Mostly I was left alone with the Copper Princess.
People were surprised to find out that I had been admitted into the Sandcastle so easily.
"ooooooh," said the little girls, "how did you manage that? Isn't it scarey? You are very brave, Face."
"Whats the big deal?" I said, "They are just people. Will you be scared of me if I become The Current Queen of Fashion?"
They recoiled.
"yes" they whispered.

Well, my advice to them was to collect a gay or faux-gay son figure for their entourage. Yes, it seems difficult, but I can trust Eleven Sons to know the Queens of Fashion. (Not to mention the Scenesters and the Art Stars.) Eleven Sons HAS lost some cred I suppose due to the fact that he now has real sex with real girls. My son, my son, oh what happened to you, now you are just the same as all the others.

So anyway, It got to Friday at the castle de Seashore, which of course is the fashionable day for bitchy drinks. I wasn't invited, but knew one of the guests and was therefore allowed to hang about. The girl I knew was a model, and therefore highly beautiful and highly insecure. She spent the evening insecurascising at me. I spent the evening drinking.
About half way through, the gays arrived. In the door they rushed in a wave of immaculate hair and jaunty scarves. I happened to be standing by the drinks table as they tumbled in. One of them looked me up and down, noticing I was not wearing the correct clothes.
"Oh, hi." he said
"Hello." said I
There was an expectant pause and I realised he thought I was there to pour him a drink. I spread my hands.
"Help yourself." I said
"Oh, ookaay" he poured himself a drink.
"So..." he said "Are you going to the fashion party?"
"Which fashion party would that be?" I said. He looked down his nose at me.
"You know, THE fashion party" he said "At Billy P's " Billy P was the 'It' man of the moment, I vaguely knew.
"Oh, no, I didn't even know about it." I said. This was obviously the very wrong thing to say.
"Hmph!" he snorted, took one last corner of the eye scathing look at me, and turned on his heel.
I began to understand that I was hopelessly ill-equipped for the world of fashion.

But.
A few weeks later I met the same bitchy gay at a party, he realised how great I was, and now we are the best of friends.
I will See-saw on the Seashore, it is only a matter of tides.