Plumcake does not, as a rule, audibly gasp. A Southern Lady of Breeding –no acronym please– would simply dah rather than let on that whatever she just witnessed was not the exact and most appropriate thing that could have possibly been done in polite society.
For example, when Aunt Merriweather finds Uncle Shorty passed out in the croquet court with a giant hickey on his face, an unfortunate side effect of sucking all the air out of his julep cup and attaching it to his chin in order to add realism to his Pharaoh impersonation, she simply dusts him off, fetches him an aspirin and casually remarks to the gathering crowd that Uncle Shorty always did love his ancient history.
It’s very melon and prosciutto on granddaddy’s yacht. Not that I ever got any of the melon or prosciutto NO I was a kid and had to have Coca Cola and corn nuts instead. Corn nuts! Not that I’m bitter.
The black is beautiful, but if you happen to have flowing raven tresses and creamy porcelain skin like the model (and like Plumcake herself, who most closely resembles Snow White on a carb bender) do yourself a favor and pick up the cobalt.