Gatwick, the patron saint of the Holiday-maker, those kindred souls pushing in all their largesse past throngs of other holiday-makers, on their way to God-knows-where, all in the middle of July. This day however, would be the day that Gatwick pulled a Mary Magdalene and washed the feet of our dear Gorja. Yes – even she made the million-mile journey to the moon to meet Lady Gatwick, but only briefly. Today was the day that dreams are made of: Gorja was flying to shoot a film and we happened to be right there with her.

Terminator sunglasses and beach ready Forbidden City linen carried this show business martyr gracefully from curbside to gate, whilst stunningly simple green amethyst and black mother of pearl earrings prepared her color palette to tie into Mount Etna’s mystic volcanic wonder.

Without ever so much as a whisper, Saint Gatwick commanded the holiday makers to part like the sea did for Moses way back when. All eyes were on Gorja as she nonchalantly walked to the front of the boarding line – cool as ice – and then as if it were second nature, a flurry of pens and paper popped out of handbags – small Sicilian hands reached towards her and begged for autographs. This cult star was heading back to the motherland and unbeknownst to her throngs of fans on the flight, she was indeed flying home to shoot her newest project starring Juliette.

Home is where the heart is and waiting in Sicily was none other than the infamous Susan Batson. Ready to bring out the best pictures in Gorja’s emotional coloring book, Susan was working a double billing. Whatever makeup carried the show on the flight over would soon be on the floor because Gorja was lining up for method madness* – cameo as the part may be, she was set to film a mourning scene that would test even the most seasoned professional. Thank goodness for the bulletproof nylon cover that protects her Forbidden City mini-messenger bag (aka script cover); just ask Tammy Faye Baker, mascara and calfskin never did go well together.

*If you’re ever starving make sure you fly to Sicily with a method actress preparing for a character in grief. To keep that smoking hot figure, Gorja made sure to do the preparation work not by feeding herself but instead by feeding us. Macaroni alla nonna was the chief culprit in this crime against humanity. We jettisoned the chic Italian bathers for elastic waist French ones and rested in the fact that the walk from the gate in Gatwick to the baggage claim was at least 5 kilometers on the flight back home. 100 calories down, 5000 more to go. Thank you, Gorja.