Don’t tell me

The third paragraph from a New Yorker profile of Donatella Versace (not online):

The trouble began when, between appointments, Donatella repaired to an outdoor terrace to smoke. Seated at a wrought-iron table, she thumbed open a pack of “special DV Marlboro Reds” (so called because her staff in Milan is instructed to cover the customary “Smoking Kills” label on every pack with a sticker bearing a DV monogram in medieval script).

…and that’s as far as I read before deciding that reading yet another article about someone wealthy enough to have a staff helping them opt out of reality is a waste of my time, no matter how well written the article.

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