breakfast at murrayfield

The minute Tom Ford apologises to Colin Firth for having said he’s fat (!) (he’s not!) (how dare you?!?), on the other side of the world, id est here in Rome, a fogey (who had already dissed left right and centre the staging of Carmen at Teatro alla Scala the other day) calls a beautiful woman “una Violetta troppo avanti negli anni e un po’ troppo in carne” (translation: old and fat) (she is neither, by the way.).

No wonder Mrs Dessì and her equally singing husband, Fabio Armiliato, are now both pulling out from the gala performances they were supposed to sing at Teatro dell’Opera at the end of December and are also pondering over instituting a lawsuit against the opera house (and, I hope, also against that old, boring man.).

Now the opera house is allegedly talking about refunding people who got tickets thinking they would’ve been seeing and listening to Mrs. Dessì and Mr. Armiliato — they deffo should, it’s their fault, they let the old man rule when he’s only the director of the production, not the general manager nor the artistic manager of the theatre. Lam3rz.

Just this morning, Stef commented that it’s a sad world the one where women’s clothes are designed by gay men who hate women or by women who hate other women. I’d add to that that it’s a sad world the one where an old, decrepit walking mummy (who incidentally is also gay, like those fashion designers Stef was talking about) who should just be directing the staging of an opera kicks out the woman who should be singing the leading role on the premises that she has bewbs.