Joanna Lumley, patron saint of gushy loveliness, is doing a thing about Greece on the UK telly and through means that may be slightly illegal and I can’t really go into publicly, we’ve been able to watch it
along with multiple episodes of Come Dine With Me. I practically exploded with envy when I saw her walking through the actual Parthenon with an archeologist because that’s roped off to the likes of you and me. In fact recently the whole rock of the Acropolis was roped off because of industrial action by the staff but that’s another story.
I’m a bit of a fan of Joanna’s; she’s my big girl crush, I suppose and had I known that she’d been in Athens I’d probably have shamefully stalked her through the Plaka and tried to engage her in witty conversation.
Me: Duh..you’re er er er
JL: Yes, I am. How lovely of you to recognise me.
Me: er, er, duh.
But it was not to be and I had to watch the goddess through the window of the computer like everyone else. There’s a magnificent shot of her standing high on the steps before the propylaea, she turns her head slightly and for a moment there’s a view of a slightly less than firm jaw line. This excited me more than the fact that she got to walk through the actual Parthenon. I rambled on for ages telling Mr Tabliope (who, as you can imagine, was fascinated by this), how wonderful it is that she clearly hasn’t had a facelift or botox treatments. After the hysteria of this faded I wondered if there really is a polite way to tell someone that you’re impressed by the fact that they’re not chemically or surgically enhanced or if it’s up there with you don’t sweat much for a fat girl.
Hello Ms Lumley, I think it’s absolutely fabulous that you’ve got wrinkles just like the rest of us Hello Ms Lumley, your saggy jaw line gave me hope Hello Ms Lumley, did you turn like that deliberately so that we could see your loose flesh?
On balance, I’ve decided that if I ever do get to be in conversation with the goddess that I shall stick to er, durr.