I used to watch this with my father. It’s a harrowing story about a beautiful Queen that is murdered by seven small peasants and a common slut. When I was a girl I often dressed up as the Queen and my father would hire children from the local village and we’d put on a show for him. Of course in my version the Queen enslaved the dwarfs in her dungeon and murdered Snow White. But after several performances the villagers started complaining about their ‘missing children’ so I had to hang up my costume.


I must have seen this movie a hundred times and it’s been a huge influence on my life. It made me realise that if you’re rich and powerful you can buy anybody and make them fall in love with you.
Richard Gere is so handsome and Jeffrey really reminded me of him. Some nights we’d role-play and I’d dress up as Vivian and he’d put on a tuxedo and be Edward. I found it very erotic pretending to be this cheap woman who would do anything to please a wealthy business man. It showed me that if you buy working class girls a nice handbag or a piece of jewellery, they will happily fulfil any degrading, sexual fantasy you might have.


I have a love/hate relationship with this movie. I love it because it reminds me of all of the great parties I used to go to. They were always way out in the countryside in a manor house or stately home. Everyone would dress up in masks and you’d spend the evening guessing if the man in the devil mask in the corner was Bill Clinton or Prince Andrew or another elite guest. The events were very decadent, sexually free and the human sacrifice ceremonies had a real sense of theatre. Unfortunately when this movie came out and Kubrick betrayed us by exposing the parties to the general public, people started to get a bit nervous and the gatherings became smaller, less lavish and rather than travel 30 minutes outside of the city you had to get a private plane to a private island so it was much more hassle.


Inspired by this wonderful movie I have a large poster of Woody Allen on my cell wall and I’m currently digging a tunnel behind it with a silver spoon. Hopefully I’ll manage to escape soon and I’ll be drinking cocktails in the penthouse of the Trump International by Christmas. Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s a man in dark glasses here to see me and it looks like he’s carrying a noose made out of ripped up bedsheets. I wonder what he wants?

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