Image via Wenn

Dame Helen, you can do no wrong.  Your body is unfathomable, you’re always dressed like the class act you are, and you were in Caligula which is probably my favorite “adult biographical film” of all time, equal parts arty costume drama and Penthouse dirty movie replete with fisting and dwarf oral.

Dwarf oral.

Anyway, because I love you so much I’m kind of playing with kiddie gloves here because 1) I’m not crazy about your shoes and 2) your make-up artist might want to blend a little more.

However, when I’m a woman of a certain age, I pray my wardrobe will have a fraction of the sophisticated, understated, deeply tasteful gowns of which you seem to have a bottomless supply.  I hope they all have flattering, fitted sleeves, collarbone-skimming necklines and nipped waists to accentuate my-hopefully-bodacious-like-yours figure.  And the cascade of red keeps it fresh and interesting.  So you’re still pretty much untouchable.