"It's no big deal," says Madamma, reflecting on the forced curtailment of her daring sartorial displays. "If my darling hubby doesn't want me to show off my raspberries or my pet pussycat, I can adjust. I learned how to be a model mother. Now I'm learning how to be a model wife. I think of it as a challenge that helps me to grow as I pursue the lifelong goal of learning how to be a model person."
 
 
 
 
 
 

"Actually," she continues, "it's kind of fun. I look at all the revealing stuff in the closet, and I go, 'Well, you can't wear that, or that, or that, or that, so what's left?' Then I go, 'Well, there's a little number I don't even remember. Maybe nobody will see my raspberries in that.' So I try it on, and it's like having a new me—so demure and proper and everything. Kind of cool. You know, I like to reinvent myself from time to time. It could even be good for my career. It's so, like, unexpected, isn't it?"
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

But isn't there some downside? Madamma ponders the question. "A downside? You mean, like, something bad about it?" She thinks some more. "Well, when I want to go out dancing in the clubs, it's a little bit of a downside, I guess. I don't like all that restriction of my body that you get wearing tops and bottoms while you're dancing. That's why you have to use your imagination sometimes. I like to think I'm creative enough to find a way to solve problems. So far, I've done a pretty good job of solving both the raspberry problem and the restriction problem."
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Does that mean the pussycat problem hasn't been solved yet? Madamma grins. "I think I'm doing pretty well with that too. Sometimes my pussycat gets restless and starts howling, 'Let me out! I want to meow my ass off at the whole wurld!' Like, when I'm at the beach, I don't like swimsuits much, because the sand gets inside the wet fabric, and it hurts my raspberries a lot, and then it really irritates the hell out of my pussycat too. So that's just another downside that causes my creative juices to flow—until I'm so drenched in creativity the sand doesn't have a chance."
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Then the New Modesty of Madamma is a pure win-win situation? "Is 'win-win' a, like, good thing?" Assured that it is, she responds gleefully: "Of course it is. If it makes my husband happy, I'll do it until he changes his mind. Nothing lasts forever. Like, the other day I was sunbathing in front of some paparazzi, which meant obviously that nothing could be showing, and then Guy comes out to join me, and he started getting frisky. Just from the things he said, I knew he felt like enjoying some raspberries, or maybe playing a little ball with a pussycat. But then, of course, he couldn't find either of those things, and I could tell he was maybe feeling a little frustrated? 'Where are they?' he said. 'Where did you put them?' And I just smiled, like the pussycat that ate the raspberry, if you know what I mean, and he wandered off. So it's possible I'll have to reinvent myself all over again... and won't that be fun?"