Review on Princess Diaries
3. As Mia in Princess Diary, write a reflection of your time when you went through the princess lessons.
Me, a princess? At first I was shocked and rejected the whole idea which came about by the death of my father, Philippe Renaldi. My expectation in life is to be invisible and I am good at it. Being forced into this by my mother, I reluctantly agreed to attend “princess lessons” in preparation for my attendance to the State Dinner and Genovia’s Independence Day Ball.
These lessons were conducted in my grandmother’s huge mansion, supervised by the dear lady herself. On the first day, woops! I broke a finger on a valuable statue and discretely dumped it into its mouth instead. My appearance and hair were highly critised from top to toe by my grandmother who instructed her personal assistant, Scarlet to take notes. Knowing me as an ordinary girl being fashion-handicapped, I was advised to wear pantyhose instead of socks, have clean fingernails and proper shoes instead of my dirty sneakers.
Extreme emphasis was given to the deployment of correct deportment. I was taught to walk like a lady and to sit with my ankles suitably crossed without falling off the chair, which I ingloriously did. I could not resist pulling funny faces during these lessons, much to the amusement of Scarlet.
For my second lesson, I was trussed up with a scarf on a chair and instructed to eat without being able to move my arms. Manner’s matter I was told and I will get use to the inconvenience. Next, there was my first dancing lesson with Joe having not impressed anyone with my hip-hop demonstration. The graceful waltz and exciting tango required much practice, as I was soon to find out.
Arriving late on my third day and being introduced to Paolo, an Italian hairdresser who was aghast at my hair’s unmanageable appearance. Attempting to rectify the problem, he broke a hair brush trying to pull it through all the knots. He was incensed by my student-like spectacles and promptly broke them,
Me, a princess? At first I was shocked and rejected the whole idea which came about by the death of my father, Philippe Renaldi. My expectation in life is to be invisible and I am good at it. Being forced into this by my mother, I reluctantly agreed to attend “princess lessons” in preparation for my attendance to the State Dinner and Genovia’s Independence Day Ball.
These lessons were conducted in my grandmother’s huge mansion, supervised by the dear lady herself. On the first day, woops! I broke a finger on a valuable statue and discretely dumped it into its mouth instead. My appearance and hair were highly critised from top to toe by my grandmother who instructed her personal assistant, Scarlet to take notes. Knowing me as an ordinary girl being fashion-handicapped, I was advised to wear pantyhose instead of socks, have clean fingernails and proper shoes instead of my dirty sneakers.
Extreme emphasis was given to the deployment of correct deportment. I was taught to walk like a lady and to sit with my ankles suitably crossed without falling off the chair, which I ingloriously did. I could not resist pulling funny faces during these lessons, much to the amusement of Scarlet.
For my second lesson, I was trussed up with a scarf on a chair and instructed to eat without being able to move my arms. Manner’s matter I was told and I will get use to the inconvenience. Next, there was my first dancing lesson with Joe having not impressed anyone with my hip-hop demonstration. The graceful waltz and exciting tango required much practice, as I was soon to find out.
Arriving late on my third day and being introduced to Paolo, an Italian hairdresser who was aghast at my hair’s unmanageable appearance. Attempting to rectify the problem, he broke a hair brush trying to pull it through all the knots. He was incensed by my student-like spectacles and promptly broke them,