LJ_Reloaded
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http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/a...-looking-pretty-Why-women-hate-beautiful.html
'There are downsides to looking this pretty': Why women hate me for being beautiful
By SAMANTHA BRICK
PUBLISHED: 19:08 EST, 2 April 2012 | UPDATED: 16:11 EST, 3 April 2012
On a recent flight to New York, I was delighted when a stewardess came over and gave me a bottle of champagne.
‘This is from the captain — he wants to welcome you on board and hopes you have a great flight today,’ she explained.
You’re probably thinking ‘what a lovely surprise’. But while it was lovely, it wasn’t a surprise. At least, not for me.
http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2012/04/03/article-2124246-09BDA2C8000005DC-462_634x592.jpg
Throughout my adult life, I’ve regularly had bottles of bubbly or wine sent to my restaurant table by men I don’t know. Once, a well-dressed chap bought my train ticket when I was standing behind him in the queue, while there was another occasion when a charming gentleman paid my fare as I stepped out of a cab in Paris.
Another time, as I was walking through London’s Portobello Road market, I was tapped on the shoulder and presented with a beautiful bunch of flowers. Even bar tenders frequently shoo my credit card away when I try to settle my bill.
And whenever I’ve asked what I’ve done to deserve such treatment, the donors of these gifts have always said the same thing: my pleasing appearance and pretty smile made their day.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/a...-looking-pretty-Why-women-hate-beautiful.html
'There are downsides to looking this pretty': Why women hate me for being beautiful
By SAMANTHA BRICK
PUBLISHED: 19:08 EST, 2 April 2012 | UPDATED: 16:11 EST, 3 April 2012
On a recent flight to New York, I was delighted when a stewardess came over and gave me a bottle of champagne.
‘This is from the captain — he wants to welcome you on board and hopes you have a great flight today,’ she explained.
You’re probably thinking ‘what a lovely surprise’. But while it was lovely, it wasn’t a surprise. At least, not for me.
http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2012/04/03/article-2124246-09BDA2C8000005DC-462_634x592.jpg
Throughout my adult life, I’ve regularly had bottles of bubbly or wine sent to my restaurant table by men I don’t know. Once, a well-dressed chap bought my train ticket when I was standing behind him in the queue, while there was another occasion when a charming gentleman paid my fare as I stepped out of a cab in Paris.
Another time, as I was walking through London’s Portobello Road market, I was tapped on the shoulder and presented with a beautiful bunch of flowers. Even bar tenders frequently shoo my credit card away when I try to settle my bill.
And whenever I’ve asked what I’ve done to deserve such treatment, the donors of these gifts have always said the same thing: my pleasing appearance and pretty smile made their day.