Yes, Samantha, I’m as beautiful as they say

DEAR me, but my heart goes out to that poor Samantha Brick.

If you had no idea who Samantha Brick actually was until you heard about her tragic predicament in the Daily Mail, you will already be gushing empathy. As, of course, I am. For the past few days, Twitter has been buckling under the weight of poor, beautiful Samantha Brick and her story of misfortune, as outlined in her feature. The headline reveals her plight: “There are downsides to looking this pretty — why women hate me for being beautiful.”

I know, Samantha, I know. I get that all the time. It can be so lonely, being this ravaged — I mean, ravishing. And so depressing too — just like you, I have men sending bottles of champagne to my table in restaurants, men rushing to buy me train tickets in railway queues, airline pilots sending me more champagne on planes; it never stops. Like you, I am chased down the street by men desperate to give me flowers, like that Impulse advert from the last century. Men just can’t help themselves when they see me. You and I are kindred spirits, Samantha.