I’m so sorry, but I won’t be able to attend your wedding tomorrow. The short notice is completely rude, and I know there’s going to be a scramble to fill my seat. Might I suggest Kate Bosworth? She only weighs a few pounds more than I do. Or maybe my bestie, Genevieve, could fill in. She’s free.
Don’t beat yourselves up about this. It’s not you at all, I promise. It’s me. I have rules about celebrity weddings. I simply cannot risk attending one that the press knows about ahead of time (exception: anything involving the British royal family). I’m sorry, I’ve been spoiled by classic, great secret weddings like Natalie Portman’s and Liz Taylor’s. It just makes me tense and uncomfortable.
I don’t enjoy going into the bathroom to snort a complimentary bump of coke (a wedding must) and seeing a representative from PEOPLE named Tanya credited as “Close Personal Friend” crawling through the garbage. In the paparazzi photos of your guests who have already arrived, everyone looked a little sweaty and the combination of angle and lighting was completely unflattering.
And if I may be frank, southern Italy isn’t even that enjoyable at this time of year. Strange choice. Hopefully, you’re planning to call this off at the last minute and break up for three months, get back together on New Year’s Eve, and elope in Luxembourg.