Jeanne Miller tied her partner hand and foot in 11.45 seconds.

A scheduling conflict kept me from seeing Sensational Sibella, a 5-foot-11, 200-pound Hollywood fashion goddess, when she brought her collection to the Woodland Hills Promenade last Wednesday evening.

It was my loss.

A colleague, reporter Bob Pool, happened upon the show while shopping with his wife. Pool, usually a highly cool observer, was so stunned by what he saw going on at the home of the Valley’s542335339at first all he could get out was, “You should have been there.”

He said the show was cast in a punk-rock tone and that the models (a press release promised 100 in Sibella animal prints) wore loose-flowing, gauzy dresses and threw a lot of glitter in the air and on themselves.

“One was a grandmotherly looking, late-50ish woman who sported a green Mohawk haircut,” Pool said. “When we walked up, she was chatting with a couple of biker types on the fringes of the crowd.”

Though he didn’t mention seeing Sibella herself, who was supposed to appear in a 20-foot red feathered cape, he said he would never forget sharing with 500 to 600 other people the closing number, in which a couple named Pat and Mike of Canton, Ohio, took their nuptial vows before a lady pastor in an outfit trimmed in red and festooned with gold braid.

There was a touching story behind that wedding, related to me in a hand-typed biography included in Sibella’s voluminous press kit.

Pat, it said, came West alone to pursue her lifetime dream of becoming a professional model.

“Two days later, she called and told Mike that her dream was nothing without him,” the anonymous biographer wrote. “That was all Mike needed to hear. He sold his house, car and everything he owned . . .

“He arrived at LAX on Sept. 4 and they drove directly to Santa Monica Beach where Mike proposed and Pat accepted.”

Mike went to work at Gary’s Tux, Pat next door at Encino Bridal Couture.

“Daily they dressed brides- and grooms-to-be planning fabulous weddings, wishing they could afford one for themselves.”

Then they heard about Sibella’s Fashion Extravaganza. Sibella thought the coincidence so quaint that she got on the phone and recruited a dozen merchants to toss in everything the couple could want for the occasion, including a ring and a night in the Marriott’s honeymoon suite.

“And, of course,” the biographer closed, “in true California tradition, Pleasure Tan of Tarzana has given time to the couple to be beautifully tanned for the occasion.”

I really wanted to be there. I’m a sucker for any tale of requited love.

So I was pleased to find what seemed a suitable replacement the next night when Country Club Realtors threw a Country Western Jamboree at Fallbrook Mall to raise money for the Work Training Program Inc.

That organization, based in Santa Barbara, runs satellites in Thousand Oaks and Woodland Hills where more than 200 retarded and handicapped young people learn how to live and work on their own.

To set a whimsical tone for this noble cause, KLAC sent a band and disk jockey Scott Carpenter to lead a gaggle of contests including Husband Tying and Guess the Weight of the Bouncing Man.

All was still, however, Thursday night as I strolled down the nearly deserted concourse of the Canoga Park shopping center looking for the Jamboree.

A guard on her rounds said it was out on the parking lot.

Outside? It was 51 degrees outside.

In the far corner of the lot, about 50 people, most of them wearing heavy coats and red noses, milled around the blacktop. Some huddled under portable gas heaters. Others hunched on metal chairs eating hot dogs and chili beans off paper plates.

From a portable kitchen, Work Training’s staff and students dispensed food and drink. The drinks included beer, a happy surprise that seemed to brace some against the evening air, at least psychologically.

One young kitchen helper, who wore a plaid shirt and cowboy hat and had what appeared to be a touch of cerebral palsy, showed no need for artificial bracing.

As a band played songs like “Hey Bartender, Come On Down and Dance With Me,” she kicked her boots in a saucy Western step.

Harriet Rechtman, program administrator for Work Training, stationed herself behind a gas range to explain to me the organization’s philosophy.

It promotes the opportunity to compete and admits the possibility of failure.

“We’re not a sheltered workshop,” Rechtman said. “Every person, no matter what their disability, is entitled to the same life process as everyone else. That comes with the same risks as everyone else.”

Thursday, that meant living with the ill-fortune brought by the weather. Because of the cold, the fun was quick and crisp. The three beer belly contestants were not doused with water, as planned. The Bouncing Man contest was shelved.

All the same, there were moments. In Husband-Tying, Jeanne Miller, a slender cowgirl from Woodland Hills who obviously got her training on horses, tied her soft-shoed partner hand and foot in 11.45 seconds.

They weren’t actually married. But the knot she tied looked as good as the one that now binds Pat and Mike.