It's no love game for Pippa with the media
Every morning I wake up and think: "Thank God I'm not Pippa Middleton." I expect you do too. It must be exhausting, wandering around weddings, nightclubs and Wimbledon, done up to the nines.
Even pictured leaving Waitrose – where else? – with bags of groceries, the Duchess of Cambridge's sister was wearing what looked to me like a fancy outfit, though the papers for the peasantry opined that it made her look middle-aged and frumpy.
Lordy, but I do hate having my photograph taken. My self-image and reality are strangers who've never been introduced, and that's how I like to keep it.
But this poor lassie is snapped from dawn till dusk. She has to go into a coal cellar to pick her nose.
And what a nightmare it must be choosing your clothes. Me: T-shirt and jeans. Pippa: something she's never worn before, preferably an outfit inspired by model Kelly Brook.
That's what they're accusing her of now: copying Kelly's clothes. Jeez, even I've never been accused of that.
So, on every level that I can see, my life's better than Pippa's. I don't like weddings, Wimbledone or Waitrose, but she is thirled to all three.
Imagine being famous for being the Duchess of Cambridge's sister. The woman's whole life is a tragedy.