This half-dressed refugee from The Patriarchy was spotted by a fearless photographer at the BAFTA camp in London (The Times, February 21, 2018).
Thought to be one of the #MeToo tribe, her name is Jennifer. Despite the sub-zero temperatures, in the cause of feminism she was seen in the most minimal of corsetage (black, of course) with strategically placed goosebumps.
She braved the cold to tell assembled journalists of her struggle against oppression by manly warlords in the distant shanty called Tinseltown, in the Kingdom of Hollywood.
Her publicist seemed to be caught on the hop: ‘Wait, hold the photo op. She’s promoting Red Sparrow, not Blue Tit!’
With only £7million in her pocket, Jennifer is forced to beg for her next role.
A child of 26, she has somehow made the 3,000-mile journey from New York alone except for her agent, Mr Weinstein Ubungme, make-up artist Pancake T’unnock and social media manager, Ivan Offal-Lottabotz.
With none of the gentlemen in her company thinking to offer his jacket, she is forced to act as a human coat-hanger for a famous designer, who has promised her a dress if she plays her cards right.
Her ambition is to go to Oxbridge and become a brain surgeon, but for now she must act for The Man, scraping together income from her appearances and merchandising, being paid less than Bill Gates makes in a year of running Microsoft.
It’s hard to believe this is the 21st century.