Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Why, Cleopatra, I hardly recognized you


Love the new style — who's your hairdresser? I'll bet it's that fabulous GeeG in Islington! Nice tan, too, did you just get back from Ibiza? Whatever, I adore the look, so much more appealing than that bimbo in HBO's Rome or Liz with her pageboy-cum-limp dreadlocks. Your reconstructor has brought out the inner you, the genuine Josephine Baker! I always knew Julius and Marc, those slick dogs, couldn't have gone bonkers for an insipid Greek Ptummy … Ptolmey … whatever.

So glad you kissed off the cobalt eye shadow and the bangles and that Eye of Horace bit. Let's face it, dear, your PR director had been dropping the ball lately, but now she's positioning you as a diversity totem, you're back on the historical celebrity A List. You go, girl!

You'll want to get a Facebook entry straightaway — be sure and include me as a friend! And put that guesstimate about your ethnicity bang up front, it'll do wonders, trust me.


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