So there I was, quietly minding other people's businesses, when what should pour out of St. Sulpice church but about twenty or thirty red-clad girlies, some of whom spontaneously started doing red-clad twirly-whirlies in a surreal silky flowing display.

This was one of the results, which I like. Obviously the treatment won't be to everyone's taste, and I could have left it much softer, but I like the harsher treatment which gives it more punch and doesn't kill the inherent movement, which is also enhanced by the ghosting effect.