Dear Fergie,
When I wrote about you at the start of the century I was frankly in awe of your ability to show us lesser mortals the way to modern womanhood.
But if I am being brutally honest (if we were talking I would have a catch in my throat and the suggestion of a tear in my eye to reinforce my sincerity) I have always found you irritating.
Unkind I know, when I have never met you, but that is what happens when you court fame. People you are never likely to meet make nasty judgements and there is nothing you can do about it.
In my case the irritation begins when you open your mouth.
There is something simply not super about your manner of speaking.
I think it's that you don't shut your mouth often enough, leaving the impression your words are somehow endlessly open, like the door of a warm lounge in a house inhabited by teenagers.
The words gape and dangle in the air so that no matter how important the subject under discussion, it is hard to take you seriously.
We must never meet for I would have an overwhelming urge to forcefully and repeatedly chuck you under the chin to give you much-needed closure.
Perhaps after you had bitten through your tongue a few times you might get the idea.
Phew, I am glad that is out in the open.
I think my mascara has survived the emotion of the moment.
So important when you are trying to look fab, yeah?By now everyone will have seen you on Oprah.
Mascara not lasting the distance there would have been the right look, accompanied by a minimum of vacuous grinning, but I am sure you worked that out by studying your old pal Diana's heart-rending performance from 1995.
I hope you gave those scumbag journos what for.
They said a close royal associate blew the whistle and told them you were already cashing in on poor long-suffering Andy by setting up deals with foreign businessmen.
Does their lying to you over a similar deal prove that what the whistle-blower said was true?I am not sure about that.
Call me old-fashioned, but is telling blatant lies the ideal way to get news stories? You may run the risk of being considered as beastly as those whose sins you are trying to expose.
Just in case the Oprah performance didn't redeem you in the eyes of the right-thinking man and woman (fab or not), do you think it is time to escape Down Under?As you will appreciate, I never talk about money ever (excuse the tautology but you may be familiar with it), but I have been wondering if you got paid for being on Oprah and if that has helped the bank balance.
Do you need some doors opened?As a boarding school girl I became adept at discreetly opening doors for people.
We were required to open them for anyone older than ourselves.
Payment didn't come into it.
We were lucky if our elders even saw us.
Sorry, I am getting sidetracked. This would be so much easier if we were tucking into pea soup, lamb and vegetables and a 95-quid bottle of burgundy.
Down here we don't have royalty, but we do have rugby which some think is the next best thing.
We take it seriously, even if we do let the side down by allowing commoners on the field.
We even have rugby ambassadors and one of them got into a bit of bother recently with his mouth.
The situation screams karma to me.
His name is Andy, too! Isn't that spooky?
I must admit I don't know this particular ambassador, and I was certainly never married to him, but in a small country like this we're all family, even if we're not divorced and living in the same mansion.
He seems a versatile sort of chap. When he's not making inflammatory comments about rugby recruiting, he looks after the rich and famous.
In your case, obviously the rich part is a little questionable at the moment, but your fame could be a winner for him.
Being seen to be kind to a ginga (sorry to be so vulgar) could help counteract the fallout from his comments about "darkies".
As I have explained, it would not be safe for us to meet, but for a small advance of, say $40,000, I am sure I could activate something.
And if Andy can't see a role for you with the Rugby World Cup next year, I am sure he could sell you as a public health ambassador.
You could front ads to tearfully tell us just where booze, fags and being alone with strangers can lead.
Let's play!
Elspeth McLean is a Dunedin writer.
