Friday 24th July

I’ve just bought a copy of “French Women Don’t Get Fat”. Recently, I’ve become obsessed with French women. You may find this surprising after my run-in with the boyfriend’s sister-in-law. We’ll call her Le Baguette from here on in. But let’s face it- anyone who makes her guests sit on the floor lest they sully her furniture, has balls.

There’s something remarkably self-assured about French birds. They exude self-control and refinement and I have decided I could do with a spot of refinement myself, certainly after my unchecked behaviour of late (Note to self: alternating champagne with shots of vodka at suburban garden parties is apparently not the done thing over here).

I shall keep you posted on my transformation from hefty miscreant to gamine Gallic goddess. After I’ve finished the Krispy Kreme one of the secretaries just handed me.