SJP: Sweet JESUS.
VALENTINO: Yes, isn't he? Darling fellow.
SJP: No, I mean... your skin.
VALENTINO: You mean my face-clothes?
SJP: Yes, if... yes.
VALENTINO: Deep hues are so hot this winter, no?
SJP: Sir, let me put it to you this way: If we were in a coloring book, and someone handed me a box of Crayola 64, I wouldn't know what shade to make your face. There's Sunglow, Tan, Antique Brass, Bittersweet, Burnt Sienna, Burnt Orange, Red Orange, plain old Brown or Orange, Fun In The Sun, Mango Tango, Outrageous Orange, and my personal favorites Neon Carrot and Atomic Tangerine. And ALL of them look more like nature than your face does.
VALENTINO: Your sleeves appear to be disintegrating. Is there a crayon called Moth-Eaten?
SJP: I'm serious, V. I'm worried about you. Did you paint yourself the color of an oven-roasted turkey to be festive? Did someone ask you to bring sweet-potato casserole to dinner this year, and you mistook it to mean that they wanted you to BE a sweet-potato casserole?
VALENTINO: I LOVE casseroles. They're so quaint. Like sweatervests.
SJP: I'm not kidding -- my son carved a pumpkin this Halloween that looks just like you. Are you even LISTENING to me?
VALENTINO: Is that a silver scrunchy on your wrist? Are you a college dorm-room doorknob? Festive! Have you some Fig Newtons? How about a hot plate?
SJP: Oh, forget it. I tried.
