Face it Kate, it's no oil painting ...
Sometimes it's good to be an ordinary Joe or Josephine Bloggs. If someone takes a bad photo of you, it might go up on Facebook and a few people might see it, but generally, that's the height of it.
You don't have to put up with that less-than-flattering snap of your bake going on public display ad infinitum.
And so it is that I feel a tad sorry for Kate of Cambridge. She was offered a portrait. She agreed to the artist. She sat and posed for him. Twice.
So far so swanky. Hey! Someone's gonna immortalise my features! Aren't I the cool dude!
Eh, no, sadly, you're not. You're the one who will hang in the portrait gallery looking forever as if you've had a bad night's sleep and you're slightly constipated but trying to soldier on.
The artist said he was glad he'd shown her smiling. Smiling? It's the most pained expression I've ever seen on the girl's face. He's managed to make her look weird, uncomfortable and false.
I guess she must think it's okay since she has let it be shown. Or maybe, like most of us, she listened to others saying, "It's fine!" rather than that voice in her head screaming, "Oh my god, I look like my mother!"