The nostalgic Old Birds observe the goings on as though they were still young and beautiful and the future was still theirs. They admire their reflections in mirror-less frames but are only empty shells, shadows of their former selves. They are the old aristocracy, still convinced of their power and beauty. But they are twisted, deformed and ugly. They wear fanciful hats and hide behind their flamboyant costumes in rich tones of mauve, green and gold, covered with lace, jewels and embroidery.