A place, not a person

The old tart

She hasn’t changed her knickers
since the glory days. She’s locked her finery
away in display cabinets,
but her everyday wear is shabby and worn.
Her make up artist hasn’t changed since the '70s
and the cracks are showing.
Old habits live on.
Her grubby palm stretches out for pennies
and snaps them tight into her fist.
Yet as night falls and she is backlit by a softer glow
her old magic returns to draw the crowds.

An explanation:
It's Florence - no, not Nightingale, the city.
The display cabinets are the museums and art galleries, which are brilliant.
The make-up is the shabby appearance of some of the frontages and public spaces - even parts of the well-known ones. It didn't help that there was constant dust from building work, I suppose. The reference to the seventies is something quite unconnected - I've been watching a DVD of the 1976 TV adaptation of I Claudius and was thinking of the make up worn by Sian Phillips as Livia.
The grasping for money is a combination of the expense (perceived by me and of course with the exchange rate so poor), and the (immigrant?) beggars in public places. Even the car hire had an extra charge for being in a historical area.
Old habits die hard - well, I've recently read some bits about European history, and so much seemed to be about the money and power.
Yet at night, with less traffic, and softer lighting the place is magical to walk around in spite of all this.

And I'm still not sure the whole thing isn't sexist, but with a name like Flo' ...