She's gorgeous. She's pale and delicate, and very thin - she has huge, ice-blue eyes and hair so blonde it's silver-white. She looks like a snow-sculputure. She's sitting with a woman who is obviously her mother, and they're chatting in an animated fashion. A song comes on the PA that she likes, an old motown hit, and she does a little chair-dance that's awfully endearing.
And then I hear this.
Valley Girl: "What is iced tea made out of anyway?"
Mother: [pauses a moment] "Water and tea, honey."
Valley Girl: "Oh. Is that all?"