My best friend received a picture book of singer Dalida as a kitschy gift back in our student days. At every party she hosted, everyone would pick it up and leaf through it, and go “wow, look at that!” and “she had so many hits!”, albeit with much sarcasm. When I went to Paris this summer I stayed very close to the Montmartre cemetery. When I read the list of ‘guests’, I saw that Dalida was listed as being close to the toilets. Her grave is a bright beacon in the cemetery and by far the least tacky.

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