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Secret Diary II - Further Excerpts

Still a one-woman show… The Fashion Plateau has been abandoned by interns and contributors alike. Ungrateful swine, as Challenger would say. But as usual the fashion-minded prevail. After volunteering to be the guinea pig for a new diet drug that promises weight loss without dieting I have received a hefty check which paid for new pages from Lord Roxon’s secret diary. In case you’re interested: the diet drug didn’t make me loose weight, but the good news is that nausea and irritability are the only side effects I experienced. As expected the only weight loss this diet drug will cause is lightness of wallet.

But enough about my heroic sacrifices. Let’s talk about the reaction of our readers to the Secret Diary. The excitement was predictable, but we (yes, the FP is a one-woman show now, but we’re still sticking to the Royal we, it just sounds more authoritative) were a bit taken aback by some of the comments. Some voiced their surprise that Lord Roxton spends so much time pondering his appearance. We were astonished about the lack of understanding that these readers showed. Haven’t we tried to educate the masses about the importance of a perfect appearance? True adepts of the Fashion Plateau know that Lord Roxton is to be applauded for his valiant efforts to look good in a hostile environment. We hope that our readers will see the light. And now let’s read the new pages that once again reveal a man of strong fashion values.

Still worrying about hair length...
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If he doesn't make a decision soon, we'll have to worry about frown lines on his noble forehead!

May 15, 1920

Still no decision about the hair. I’m stuck in a hair loop. To cut or not to cut. I just can’t make a decision. Things are fine as long as I wear my hat, but whenever I fight without the hat on the hair flops all over. Marguerite says my current style is only suitable for sitting in my London club and that I need to seriously reevaluate the length. I know she is right. She is a smart woman. She styles her hair in those braids or pulls it back. She can fight AND look fabulous. I admire her more every day. Try not to show it though. A man needs to play it cool.

 

June 3, 1920

Big fight in the Treehouse. Veronica and Marguerite had a huge blow-up. These two had their skirmishes, but today their disagreement escalated to new heights. Malone started it all, when he asked at the breakfast table whether someone had used his razor. The boy is a slave to his clean-shaven look. Doesn’t look bad on him. I decided a while ago to go for the rugged looking stubble, it’s convenient and masculine. But I digress. Turns out Marguerite borrowed his razor to shave her arm pits and her legs. Veronica makes a joke about furry females and they started fighting like cats and dogs. Challenger, Malone and I fled down to the lab, but of course we could hear everything. Marguerite called Veronica selfish, because she didn’t share the secret of her smooth legs and absence of shaving nicks. Veronica claimed she didn’t need to shave because she was naturally hairless. Marguerite said words that I have heard only from drunken sailors. After about two hours of screeching and screaming an ominous silence fell over the Treehouse. We drew a straw and Malone lost. He went upstairs and checked on our two female companions. He came back and reported that Marguerite was sitting on the balcony, sulking, while Veronica was in the kitchen sharpening knives. He didn’t dare to ask her why she had to sharpen the biggest knives.

The whole fight left me wondering – how DOES Veronica get such smooth legs? Is she a blessed hairless individual?

 

June 25, 1920

The body hair mystery is resolved. Marguerite is a very inquisitive woman and through her relentless detective work she found out that Veronica does indeed remove body hair from her legs and underarms. She uses regular waxing, but her big secret is a lotion that she puts on after waxing. It stunts hair growth and she has to wax only every three months. Malone was very excited about this discovery and  he decided to use waxing + lotion to remove his chest hair.

I really like it when Marguerite shares a secret. Even if it’s someone else’s.

 

August 5, 1920

Another trading expedition. Malone, Marguerite and I went to get salt, a most important item for food preservation. Neither Malone, nor I spoke the language of the tribe we traded with, but Marguerite needed only a few minutes and she was nearly fluent in the language. The Chief seemed quite taken with her. At the end of the negotiations Marguerite told us the Chief had requested our shirts. Both Malone and I were taken aback. I’m sure the lad had the same thought as I had. Had we devoted enough time to our exercise regime? Were we presentable to the highly critical eye of Miss Krux? We shed our shirts and received the goods. The Chief gave Marguerite an ivory trinket and Malone voiced his suspicion that she might have offered our shirts in exchange. Possibly… While we were walking back to the Treehouse I could see Marguerite’s eyes traveling over my uncovered upper body. She smiled a bit, so I guess she liked what she saw. I took great pains to walk with my shoulders back and my belly sucked in. Good posture is a handsome man’s friend. Much to my chagrin I noticed after a while that Marguerite’s eyes also wandered over Malone’s body. The boy is a few years younger and he spends an hour every morning doing abs exercises. Well, he’s still a pup and I’m sure a woman of fire and steel appreciates a man for more than abs of steel.

When we discovered Veronica’s father, all thoughts about abs were forgotten…

 

August 8, 1920

What a horrible turn of events! The evil man who posed as Veronica’s father is dead. I’m still recovering from the knife wound. Veronica is desperate about causing me pain and we all try to make her understand that we don’t blame her for acting under the influence of the drug. All but Marguerite that is. She’s avoiding Veronica. She spends a lot of time in my room. She’s a surprisingly good nurse. She changes my bandages with great efficiency and tender care. She sits at my bed side, mending shirts, pants and blouses. A most pleasant sight to behold.

I asked her for her opinion on the most becoming shirt colors and she confessed that she has a weakness for seeing me in my blue shirt. I thought it only appropriate to tell her that I find her most fetching in her lavender blouse. She wore it the next day.

We will try to obtain more pages. There have to be more useless medical experiments that we can participate in.

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