A letter from Monsieur Gigi
Cambridge - Paris - Tblisi
29 Janvier 2004 Messrs Clique & Claque -
My heart, she is breaked. All those years I cut of your hairs, I make you look magnifique, and now you are big shot and Mr. Gigi is abandon, stepped over like something the cat go "ghaque phuie" and spit on the floor.
My little scissor he was enough good for you on your way going up, but now you are too important for your once-time friend. When I was making your coiffur, do I ever make jokes on your spots of bald? Jamais! Do I complain of your greasy, smell scalps? Non, non, mille fois non! I am always your servant, snipping each hairs like beautiful flowers. But not for many years now do I hears those words I once cherish, "Mr. Gigi does our hair."
I can listen not anymore to your show - it is too much painful. Your new coterie, this Bud Tugly, this Hugh Jass, how they must mock of me!
Adieu, mes "amis" -Monsieur Gigi
PS: I found this on Mr. Gigi's vanity table, and since no one has seen him for a few weeks, I thought I'd better send it along. He's really upset, and we're all a little afraid of what he might do. Your account meant a lot to him. If you hear anything, please let me know. - Jefferson Ranck