“This is what beauty can be! Beauty celestial the best you’ll agree…” are not only the lyrics to a Stephen Sondheim song, but those are also the words that fell from my head like rose petals on a silk pillow when these pictures of demure Irish noblewoman Layla Flaherty of the UK reality show Desperate Scousewives graced my monitor. Nope, it’s not a swan gracefully twirling on a puddle of crystal ice nor a virgin flamingo balancing an iridescent bubble on her knee. It’s a lay-deeee.
Layla (the real inspiration for Eric Clapton’s song) left a refined establishment (a titty bar named Platinum Lace) in one of the poshest neighborhoods in London (the West End) wearing a couture dress straight off the runways (of New Look) and carried herself like a true lady (she took an invisible dump on the sidewalk and got into a fight).
The pay phone outside of Layla’s room will be ringing any day now and it will be a call from the Queen who will invite her over for tea in exchange for a lesson on how to air your pussy out in public while keeping a ladylike composure.
“You’re welcome.” – Ireland to England