"Mr. Balthasar, you can't just look at the appearance," Joseph whispered to his fashion designer, "They're here to walk the runway, not attend a ball."
He pointed to the giant T-shaped catwalk in the square, "You see, when the guests gather below the stage, they can only see the models' figures, postures, and the clothes they are wearing, and can barely make out their faces."
Balthasar nodded again and again. He had only been exposed to these "runways" and "T-shaped catwalks" for two days and was still feeling his way around.
The publicity for the recent Fashion Week was in full swing, and the whole of Paris was buzzing about it.
Therefore, after the ad for recruiting models for Fashion Week was published, the ladies of Paris were instantly abuzz—wearing the latest fashionable garments in the splendid Old Palace, becoming the center of attention for Europe's upper class under countless lights, and with a high reward for it, who wouldn't be tempted?