I know I’m preaching for the choir here and by doing so I will probably diminish all chance of reaching the ones that should be reached, her loyal fans and supporters, but I won’t give up hope especially not in this festive season, so abundantly celebrated by charlataine Stephanie Jarvis. Here I go again, and nobody has to take my word for anything, because simply weighing the facts should be enough to come to a conclusion for yourself. Let’s stick to her last Christmas Diary and see if we can recognize the three old girl that dreamed of being a princess, in later life translated that dream to being the custodian of a French chateau simply to try and preserve it for future generations with the help of some generous strangers. Would those supporters really appreciate this ‘custodian’ that chose to organize a Christmas dance party with accompanying vibrating basses right next to the ceiling she apparently only recently found out is on the verge of collapse? Did she perhaps not see the signs we as passionate viewers recognized years ago? Should we forgive her for that? Were her guests and family not painstakingly aware by choosing the kitchen as a much safer party environment?
Completely devoid of any religious significance, this custodian’s nativity scenes were used as a replacement for the charming but crumbling chapel the Nadaillac family build centuries ago to commemorate the drowning of a child. Whenever there was a chance to preserve something important for generations to come, it’s safe to say this charlataine has not done anything, quite on the contrary: her parties and dreams of a misplaced Jardin d’Anglaise have contributed significantly to its demise.
A three year old girl dreaming to one day become a princess is adorable and charming, I get that. A self-appointed fake-custodian spending strangers money on extravagance over structural substance begs for reckoning. It’s not that your money will make the difference. She actually told you: she has friends now who can afford to give their new puppies Christmas presents with a specially designed monogram on it. I think it’s safe to say she has got it covered and does not need you any more. But that’s me and you won’t listen, I understand. What I truly hope and wish for is that you will come to see that the haters, that’s not us. The haters are the ones pretending to be grateful, while they don’t hesitate to literally tit on your values, whether the pink camera is on or off. Merry Christmas indeed.