Between the last newsletter and today's, I've done a lot of research, I've scoured the web and I've subscribed to all the newsletters available.
The ones in German, Pashto, Japanese, Korean, Guinean, and some in French. I went through it all with a magnifying glass, a blowtorch, I dissected it all, I quartered it all, looking for the slightest sign.
And when that wasn't enough, I went to all the news websites in search of the golden root, the one that I discreetly infuse into every letter that we send you twice a week. Because I want you to know, my dear sisters, that I take very seriously this role that God ordained for me when he brought me into the world. He said, and his voice still echoes in me: "Patricia, you're going to get into people's hearts, but also into their virtual mailboxes, and you have to be relevant because you'll be the only one on the whole internet to write and send things that make sense. In short, things that aren't crap."
It was the first time I had heard the Lord use such flowery language. And that set me on the path of perpetual self-questioning. Which is why I've been scouring the Internet over the last few days like a unicorn jumping from rainbow to rainbow.
It's true that I now have to come to the conclusion that, as well as providing you with the purest and least harmful drug there is, these newsletters are also the best there is. In addition to providing you with the purest and least harmful drug available, I can now confirm that these newsletters are also the best thing to happen to our little blue planet (did you hear the Goldorak reference? No? Well, read it again). At Patricia's, we assume that you all have the IQ of Marie Curie, and the emotional quotient of a Kiki coupled with that of Mother Theresa.
We all know that you belong to a superior caste and that those who wear Patricia are the women of tomorrow, or even the day after tomorrow. That's why I'm speaking to you from experience, because I know that each and every one of you is capable of explaining nuclear fission or surpassing any of Baudelaire's poems in writing, even in your sleep, snoring. I also know that you are the silent heroines of a world that you are improving in your corner while the media sell us nightmares at every turn.
You're the best there is, and I'm not just saying that because you're wearing Patricia shoes even on the ski slopes, well maybe just a little.
I want you to know that you have earned my eternal respect by showing the way, by enlightening those who were going astray by wearing the wrong shoes. Because let's be honest for a moment, there's only one brand now: Patricia Blanchet.
The rest either copy us, envy us or sell unwearable creations made to be worn by reality TV stars or, worse still, influencers. We respect you, my dear sisters, and that's why this mutual love between you and us is destined for eternity and will be engraved in the tablets of stone 2.0.