Perfect faces for death, added the admirer, which Michelina did not like one bit. She was a young woman of sophisticated tastes because she'd been educated that way, brought up that way, and refined that way. Except that there used to be more power behind the breeding. There were also crinolines. It was easier then to cover up the physical defects that modern fashions reveal.
Blue jeans accentuate a fat backside or thin legs.
Thin shanks, fat asses. She imagined herself in crinolines and felt herself freer than she did in jeans. She was blushing at these thoughts when the Grumman stewardess came by to whisper that the private jet would soon be landing at the Campazas airport. She tried to find a city somewhere in that panorama of desert, bald mountains, and swirling dust. She could see nothing.