Two Italians, on harems.

Carlo: Nicolas, you should have a harem of men like Cecily. 

Nicolas: No. I have one woman per night and then she leaves. 

Carlo: But really, that’s a kind of harem. 

Nicolas: It’s not! I don’t ever intend to keep my women. 

Two friends, on the Golden Ratio.

Vinnie: I would like to get your take on short legs and long torsos.

Cecily: With the right brain atop them both, they can be quite satisfactory.

Vinnie: Short legs and long torsos are an affront to the Fibonacci spiral.

Two friends, on vernacular.

Vinnie: You’re gay (that’s the expression Americans use when they cannot comprehend something).

Cecily: You’re straight (that’s the expression we queens use when we know exactly how to describe somebody).

Cecily, on beauty.

Cecily: The aim of beauty is to keep the populace hypnotised, (hence desperate to be led to safety), by the menacing wit of Wintours and other robots, manufactured upon polished skin and cigarettes. This world, all of it imaginary, is what we like best, for it is a reincarnation of the picture books we suckled at in our youth. In a world where the wild things are real, it’s all the better to see them cloaked in glitter.