Elias Ben-Avi would have thought this article too short, and in the wrong place in the newspaper. 'Why isn't it on the front page?' I can almost hear him raging in his unmistakable Mediterranean accent. 'Why isn't the picture more flattering? Couldn't you have arranged for some kind of border around it: you know, a box in some kind of bright green, or orange, sweetie-pie? You want people to be miserable on a Saturday morning? You want this to look like an obituary or something?' In one way, of course, it is. Elias, self-styled (oh yes, always self-styled) milliner to Hong Kong society, died of a brain tumour on August 17 in a Bangkok hospital. He was 39 years old and alone.
He is survived by a wife, Karolina, an adored 11-year-old son, Adam, and a host of friends and ex-friends who are shocked and at the same time exasperated that once again Elias, darling Elias, pain in the neck and 100 per cent uncompromising Elias, should have managed to do something so utterly unexpected, so un-story tale tragic.
One would have expected him to insist on wafts of lavender eau de cologne, cool satin sheets, adoring friends standing by his bed and serving him chicken soup with a silver spoon as he held court in his last minutes on Earth. Not this.
When there were so many people who loved him, others who liked him, others who admired him despite everything, why should he have spent his last months alienating so many? How dare the bel of the Bela Vista ball have died alone, not even remembering his own name? Many people in Hong Kong were touched by Elias in two distinct ways, and in two quite discrete time periods: Before Resort, and After Resort.
In the first four years he lived here, he was the Socialite, the friend, the pig-headed Mad Hatter, with loads of balls in both senses, and a tremendous generosity. But six months ago or so, he changed.
In retrospect this was largely the work of the interloper in his head. He started pressurising people into supporting a resort in Phuket. Not a gay resort he would say sternly: 'A resort for open-minded people'.
Theme rooms, an elephant, a pink heart-shaped lobby. It was not only a crazy idea, there was something shoddy about it; there was grime behind the velvet drapes, and he did not get the money. He ranted, shouted, lost many friends, and went anyway.