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  • Christina Fotinelli

Dear Blaze,

Blaze Porter (30-something or early 40s, it depends who's asking) is the fearsome leader of the yummy-mommy contingent at Morchand House School for Girls. A breeding ground for the tots of the country's wealthiest, year after year legions of air-brushed moms embark on questionable - yet mostly legal - means to secure their offspring a coveted place in the elite primary school. A major donor and legacy parent, Blaze reigns supreme at bake sales, school pickups, and parent-teacher dos. She wields her power with zeal. One fatal glance can cast a new school mom – and her mini-me - into social frost-mageddon.


Having fallen foul of Blaze on their very first encounter, Lana Vale, is feeling the onset of the big chill. Bucking the counsel of other pariah mom, Lana attempts to salvage the relationship before the death knell sounds on her social status for good.


Dear Blaze,


Please don't destroy this before you read it. I have called,DM'd, tagged, and texted you but nothing. I'm really upset that you deleted me from our Facebook and Whats App groups. Gracie has been uninvited to every play date this week and Hannah won't even park next to me, she's that scared of being associated with me. I think you somehow managed to get me struck off from the school's cc list, which I must admit is quite a feat, even for you.


You have literally left me with no other choice than to sit here and write you a letter. You should have seen the look on the waiter's face when I asked for a pen and piece of paper. The kid is18; looked at me like I was an alien - was mesmerised to see me write. It was hilarious and yet I felt so old at the same time. Do they even teach penmanship in schools anymore? Lord knows where I'm going to find a stamp.


What Will it Take to Get Out of the Deep Freeze?


I could grovel, I guess. Would it make a difference? Doubtful, right? How about if I showered you with gifts, maybe some Jo Malone candles, a basket of bubbly, or some SpaceNK vouchers? Would that turn the tide? Don't think so. Of course, I could also pester Richard to donate another row of seats in the school auditorium - that will make 4 in total this year.

  1. To keep Gracie from getting suspended when she put blue paint pellets in the faucets of the teachers' bathrooms.

  2. To get moved from a table near the toilets to a table near the dance floor at the Morchand Annual Ball

  3. To cover the replanting of the tulip garden when Gracie and her #woke vegan friends buried the dissected frogs and the formaldehyde killed the tulips and the earthworms #backfire #epicfail

...and now this. All those damn theatre seats in our name and Gracie doesn't have a creative bone in her body!


What would it take for forgiveness, Blaze? How do I get back into the inner circle? Why are you so mad at me? What have I done to make you hate me so much?


I Almost Didn't Recognise You


I wracked my brain. I lost sleep. I couldn't figure it out. Why did you block me without a reason. It just didn't make any sense. But when you scurried away when I got too close to you at Sports Saturday, the penny dropped, Blaze. Or should I call you, Jo'leen. After all that is your name.


"A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and loving favour rather than silver and gold."


That's Proverb 22:1. Remember? Or did you forget? I'll bet you didn't forget how your Daddy used to beat you if you didn't know your verses inside and out. Or how your Mama sent you packing when she caught you necking with Travis near the graveyard. You did good for yourself. I almost didn't recognise you, almost... then I caught you gnawing at your cuticles when you thought no one was looking and it all rushed back to me. It was your nervous tic when you were a kid, picked at them 'til they bled. It was disgusting then and it's disgusting now.


You can take the girl out of the trailer park, but you can't take the trailer park out of the girl.


You pulled yourself up quite a ways, Jo'leen, and guess what, it's a long way to fall. You almost erased your old self but we can never really escape who we are, can we?


Who Else Knows?


Does Hank know? What about Sacha, Valentina, and Jayne, and the rest of the vipers you hang out with? What have you said about your childhood? Don't they ask, don't they care. Nice friends!


How many lies have you told? You know what? You should have stayed as Jo'lene, Blaze. The proverb is right. A good name should trump silver and gold. But you chose the riches. You were a better person then. Less polished and poorer, sure, but also much less of a b***h.


Look, it's chilly and not so nice out here in mommy-exile. Believe me, you wouldn't like it. So, if you want me to keep your dirty little secret, I expect to be re-instated into all the mommy-brigade groups AND welcomed back to bailey-chino happy hour with open arms.


Lana xoxo


P.S. I take my coffee at 165 degrees, with a dash of soya milk, a drop of MCT oil and a sprinkling of organic dark chocolate shavings.


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