One more Parisian slapper in the house can't make much difference.
Like my miniature beret? They're the latest thing, you know, and it was very expensive. (That's a lie. There's no such thing as a miniature beret. It's a child's beret and I wore it when I was a very chic and picturesque six-year-old, and I continue to wear it because I'm too cheap to buy a red beret when I've got a perfectly good red beret that just happens to be sliiiightly too small.)
On Saturday morning I was a '40s Land Girl, and on Saturday night I was a '20s flapper.
Alexa was just a one-legged crazy person.