I don’t know about not elegant, Jane Fonda riding her horse in Cat Balou or Ann Margret walking to her TR3 in Viva Las Vegas sure looked elegant to me when I was a boy.
In 1966, at the age 12, all I needed was a quarter and a dime as cigarette machines were nearly everywhere. The only thing was you had to be careful about which brand you chose. Marlboro, Winston, and Salem were OK, but other less popular brands could sit in the machines for months, and stale cigarettes went up like kindling when you lit them.
I tried saying Marigold’s last line aloud, it doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.