Standing alone in her small Parisian apartment, Maureen continues to watch a video. She had begun watching it on her iPhone while on the train, the wires of her earbuds snaking up from under her sweater into her ears. Now the video continues on the laptop propped open on her bed, sound emerging from the laptop speaker. The transition of the film from one device to another as Maureen moves not only from one location to the other, but also viewing part of it as she is in the process of moving from one place to the next, is so quotidian a part of contemporary life that these transitions go unnoted. The sound, previously transmitted to her ears only because of the earbuds, is now audible throughout her apartment, but still heard by her alone. In both cases, sound is transmitted to the film's viewers in exactly the same way, through the film that we are watching, wherever we are and however we are experiencing it.

Maureen is wearing a dress that is not her own, a dress that she is supposed to return to the Chanel showroom for her employer, a socialite named Kyra, who also does not own the dress, and whose main occupation is to be photographed in clothes borrowed from luxury brands in a mutually sustaining form of advertising.