Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff
CZENUKFR

Saturday, 25 February 1882

We all go to Monte-Carlo for the performance of Faust with Faure, Maurel, Gayarre, Alban, and Scalchi. Five artists assembled, any one of whom alone could make an evening's happiness...
But displeased with my dress, and above all in the grip of a terrible attack of fever, I had but one wish the entire time: that it would end. I was flushed, sulky-looking; having taken off my hat I was dishevelled — looking a fright, in short — and of course everyone was there. You know how the world is: they will have seen me like that and will say I am always so, without considering it was once, by chance — which is quite natural after all. That is why a woman should sooner renounce everything than show herself brilliantly in an unflattering light. She was this, that, and the other — that is quite enough and for a long time. She has become plain — one. She was badly groomed, no doubt on account of artistic pretensions — two. She carries herself badly and looks furious — three. And I who had so longed to show myself pretty here.