No, No, No...

Dear Jennifer Aniston,

What in the name of merciful Jesus where you thinking?

You do not have to dress up in babydoll pyjamas, hold on to a teddy bear, give it your best Lolita pout to prove you still got it. Now, sartorially speaking, your look has never been my thing, but it most certainly has been yours. You rock the girl next door like few else and millions of women love you for it.

I always find it amusing when people take pity on you, I think to myself poor old Jen, counting her millions in one of her fabulous mansions, with a career she loves, loyal friends and dating a string of hotties, she's had it tough...

It's laughable really, how the press like to paint you as some downtrodden divorcee, that as a successful business woman, you are somehow incomplete, because you have yet to be rescued by the knight on the white horse, when anyone with an ounce of sense can see you rescued yourself.

So Jennifer, it is with great affection I say to you, button up your top, step away from the teddy bear, wipe off the lipstick Barbie may have rejected on the grounds of crimes against the colour pink and while your at it, take out the clip on fringe and repeat after me, white t-shirt, blue jeans and honeyed highlights...

Yours sincerely,