Dear Madame la Moue,
I KNEW I WAS RIGHT! You are a bad, bad person. God doesn’t like it when people tell fibs, you know. It makes the Baby Jesus cry.
Italy is wonderful. It was 40° here yesterday. AT 4 PM!
Do you always do that thing on holiday where you try not to wear any make up in the hope that a. your skin will become as clear and smooth as a mountain pool and b. you will become so accustomed to your natural hideousness that you can wear the merest touch of slappage and feel like a goddess? I have been attempting to do this and, apart from two evenings, have been slap-free for the past week. A week without make up Mrs! Did you ever think me capable of such a superhuman feat?
Here are the conclusions I have come to so far: 1. there is much more time in the day when you don’t have to spend it putting your face on; 2. make up is the most miraculous invention known to humankind and I would never want to be without it in a place where there was anyone I knew apart from my family.
My plan now is to reintroduce items of slappage one by one in an attempt to find out which ones are the most essential, in manner of those food intolerance tests. I will continue my experiment and report back on my results soon.
Must dash now as am in an internet cafe. Wish you were here.