Crazy Rich Asians (43 page)

Patric’s

“A lacy black thong? And you could really see it through the dress?” Peik Lin cried
out, doubling over with laughter in the restaurant banquette she was sharing with
Rachel.

“The thong, the nipples, all of it! You should have seen the look on all of their
faces! She might as well have been naked,” Rachel said.

Peik Lin wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes. “I can’t believe all that’s happened
to you in the past week. Those girls. The dead fish. Nick’s family. Leave it to you
to walk right into the middle of all this.”

“Oh Peik Lin, I wish you could see how Nick’s family lives! Staying at Tyersall Park
has been absolutely unreal. The bedroom we’re in has all this exquisite French art
deco furniture, and I feel like I’ve traveled back in time—the rituals, the decadence,
the scale of everything … I mean, there must be at least twelve extra houseguests
in town for the wedding, but there are so many maids around, I still have one dedicated
just to me—this cute girl from Suzhou. I think she’s a bit pissed off because I haven’t
let her do all her duties.”

“What are her duties?” Peik Lin inquired.

“Well, the first night she offered to undress me and brush my hair, which I thought
was a little creepy. So I said, ‘No thanks.’ Then she asked if she could ‘draw me
a bath’—I love that phrase, don’t
you?—but you know I prefer showers, even though the clawfoot tub looks amazing. So
she offers to give me a shampoo and scalp massage! I’m like, no I don’t need that.
I just want her to leave the room so I can take my shower. Instead the girl rushes
into the bathroom to adjust the old-fashioned shower taps until the water temperature
is just perfect. I walked in and there were, like, twenty candles lit all around the
room—for a friggin’ shower!”

“
Alamak
, Rachel, why didn’t you let her give you the works? All this royal pampering is totally
wasted on you,” Peik Lin chided.

“I’m not used to all this—it makes me uncomfortable that someone’s entire job is to
wait on me hand and foot. Another thing—their laundry service is
amazing
. Everything I wear is washed and pressed within a day of my wearing it. I noticed
how fresh and wonderful all my clothes smelled, so I asked my maid what sort of detergent
they used. She told me that everything is ironed with a special lavender water from
Provence! Can you imagine? And every morning she wakes us up by bringing a ‘calling
tray’ to the bedroom with tea for Nick, done just the way he likes it, coffee done
just the way I like it, and a plate of these delicious cookies—‘digestive biscuits,’
Nick calls them. And this is
before
the huge buffet breakfast that’s laid out, and always in a different part of the
house. The first morning breakfast was served in the conservatory, the next morning
it was on the second-floor veranda. So even going to breakfast is like a surprising
treat every day.”

Peik Lin shook her head in amazement, making a few mental notes. It was time to shake
things up with the lazy maids at Villa d’Oro—they needed some new tasks. Lavender
water in the irons, for starters. And tomorrow she wanted to have breakfast by the
pool.

“I tell you, Peik Lin, between all the places Nick has taken me and all the lunches,
teas, and dinners we’ve had to attend, I’ve never eaten like this in my entire life.
You know, I never imagined that there could be so many big events surrounding one
wedding. Nick warned me that tonight’s party is on a boat.”

“Yes, I read that it’s going to be on
Dato’
Tai Toh Lui’s new mega-yacht. So tell me about the outfits you’re planning to wear
this weekend,” Peik Lin said excitedly.

“Um,
outfits
? I only brought one dress for the wedding.”

“Rachel, you can’t be serious! Aren’t there going to be numerous events all weekend?”

“Well, there’s the welcome party tonight on the yacht, the wedding tomorrow morning,
which will be followed by a reception, and a wedding banquet in the evening. And then
there’s a tea ceremony on Sunday. I brought this cute cocktail-length black-and-white
dress from Reiss, so I figure I can just wear it all day tomorrow and—”

“Rachel, you’re going to need
at least
three outfits tomorrow. You can’t be seen in the same dress from morning to night!
And everyone is going to be decked out in jewels and ball gowns for the wedding banquet.
It’s going to be the grandest event of the decade—there’ll be big-time celebrities
and royalty there!”

“Well, there’s no way I can compete with that,” Rachel shrugged. “You know that fashion
has never really been my thing. Besides, what can I do about it now?”

“Rachel Chu—I’m taking you shopping!”

“Peik Lin,” Rachel protested, “I don’t want to be running around some mall right now
at the last minute.”

“A mall?” Peik Lin gave her a look of disdain. “Who said anything about a
mall
?” She whipped out her cell phone and speed-dialed a number. “Patric, can you please
slot me in? It’s an emergency. We need to do an intervention.”

Patric’s atelier was a former shop house on Ann Siang Hill that had been transformed
into an aggressively modern loft, and it was here that Rachel soon found herself standing
on a glowing circular platform in nothing but her underwear, a three-way mirror behind
her and an Ingo Maurer dome light hovering above, bathing her in warm, flattering
light. Sigur Rós played in the background, and Patric (just Patric), wearing a white
lab coat over a dramatically high-collared shirt and tie, scrutinized her intently,
his arms crossed with one index finger on his pursed lips. “You’re very long-waisted,”
he pronounced.

“Is that bad?” Rachel asked, realizing for the first time how contestants must feel
during the swimsuit competition of a beauty pageant.

“Not at all! I know women who would
kill
for your torso. This means we can put you in some of the designers that normally
wouldn’t fit on very petite frames.” Patric turned to his assistant, a young man in
a gray jumpsuit with meticulously combed hair, and
declared, “Chuaaaaan! Pull the plum Balenciaga, the naked peach Chloé, the Giambattista
Valli that just came in from Paris, all the Marchesas, the vintage Givenchy, and that
Jason Wu with the deconstructed ruffles on the bodice.”

Soon half a dozen or so assistants, all dressed in tight black T-shirts and black
denim, buzzed around the space with the urgency of bomb defusers, filling it up with
rolling racks crammed with the most exquisite dresses Rachel had ever seen. “I suppose
this is how all super-wealthy Singaporeans shop?” she asked.

“Patric’s clients come from everywhere—all the Mainland Chinese, Mongolian, and Indonesian
fashionistas who want the latest looks, and many of the privacy-obsessed Brunei princesses.
Patric gets access to the dresses hours after they’ve walked the runways,” Peik Lin
informed her. Rachel gazed around in wonder as the assistants began hanging the dresses
on a titanium rod that was suspended seven feet into the air, encircling the platform
like a giant halo. “They’re bringing in way too many dresses,” she remarked.

“This is how Patric works. He needs to see different styles and colors around you
first, then he edits. Don’t worry, Patric has the most impeccable taste—he studied
fashion at Central Saint Martins, you know. You can be sure that the dresses he picks
out won’t be seen on anyone else at the wedding.”

“That’s not my worry, Peik Lin. Look, no price tags anywhere—that’s always a dangerous
sign,” Rachel whispered.

“Don’t worry about price tags, Rachel. Your job is to try on the dresses.”

“What do you mean? Peik Lin, I’m not letting you buy me a dress!”

“Shush! Let’s not argue about this,” Peik Lin said as she held up a translucent lace
blouse to the light.

“Peik Lin, I mean it. None of your funny business here,” Rachel warned as she thumbed
through another rack. A dress that was hand-painted with watery blue-and-silver flowers
caught her eye. “Now
this
is to die for. Why don’t I try this one on?” she asked.

Patric reentered the room and noticed the dress Rachel was holding. “Wait, wait, wait.
How did that Dries Van Noten get in here? Chuaaaan!” he yelled for his long-suffering
aide-de-camp. “The Dries is reserved for Mandy Ling, who’s on the way right now. Her
mother will
kau peh kau bu
^*
if I let someone else have it.” He turned back to Rachel and smiled apologetically.
“I’m sorry, that Dries is already spoken for. Now, for starters let’s see you in this
oyster-pink number with the pretty bustle skirt.”

Rachel soon found herself twirling around in one stunning dress after another and
having more fun than she ever thought possible. Peik Lin would simply ooh and ahh
over everything she put on, while reading aloud from the latest issue of
Singapore Tattle
:

Meanwhile, Patric would dash in and out of the dressing room making definitive pronouncements:

“That slit is too high—you’ll give all the choirboys erections wearing that one!”

“Gorgeous! You were genetically engineered to wear Alaïa!”

“NEVER, EVER wear green chiffon unless you want to look like bok choy that got gang-raped.”

“Now
that
looks stunning. That flared skirt would look even better if you were arriving on
horseback.”

Every outfit Patric selected seemed to fit Rachel more beautifully than the last.
They found the perfect cocktail dress for the rehearsal dinner and an outfit that
could work for the wedding. Just when Rachel finally decided that,
what the hell
, she would splurge on one great designer ball gown for the first time in her life,
Peik Lin summoned for a whole rack of dresses to be wrapped up.

“Are you taking all those for yourself?” Rachel asked in astonishment.

“No, these are the ones that looked best, so I’m getting them for you,” Peik Lin answered
as she attempted to hand her American Express black card to one of Patric’s assistants.

“Oh no you’re not! Put that AMEX card down!” Rachel said sternly, grasping Peik Lin’s
wrist. “Come on, I only need one formal gown for the wedding ball. I can still wear
my black-and-white dress to the wedding ceremony.”

“First of all, Rachel Chu, you
cannot
wear a black-and-white dress to a wedding—those are mourning colors. Are you sure
you’re really Chinese? How could you not know that? Second, when was the last time
I saw you? How often do I get to treat one of my best friends in the whole world?
You can’t deprive me of this pleasure.”