Excuse me, dahrlings, but...


Dear Dahrlings,

I’m not panicking, Pumpkins. No. I’m simply doing what any rational person would do when faced with the end of the world.

Booked myself into a 6 star resort in the Maldives.

I’m staying here until it’s all over – or – myself and a few Maldivian attendants are the only ones left to repopulate the earth. (They don’t have to know I’m well past the ability to produce a viable ovum, never mind a baby. Like I would do that to my body. Good lord!)

And let’s face it. Travel has put up a ‘Closed’ sign for the foreseeable future (not unlike when I went through that little dry spell. No need to dwell…) so we may as well kick back and spend the time on important tasks we’ve left slide. Like grooming. Dahrlings, some of the eyebrows I see at events are the envy of caterpillars the world over. A pair of tweezers is a handy little item in times of crisis.

But we’ve been through worse together, Pumpkins. (Actually we haven’t, but it sounds uplifting I think.) Point is, there have been hard times. Tough times. They took away our plates. Then they took our commissions. Then someone invented the internet. The list goes on… And now we have no product to sell. We’ll get though it. As god is my witness!

If you’re picturing me waving a carrot at the sky as per the stolen line from Gone With The Wind, nix that. Although I have held up a Maitai to the heaven’s once in a while. The universal sign for ‘bring me another’. I’m just not built for suffering, dahrlings.

Ivanna Gabbalot


Part legend, part myth, all woman: Ivanna Gabbalot is OJ’s gossip columnist and considers herself the industry’s conscience. Equally annoying to Open Jaw management and inflated egos in C-suites everywhere, Ivanna works infrequently, preferring to snipe from the sidelines.

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