Today is a day at sea and it is notable for just one reason.

A rare sighting of a stick woman in daylight.

There is a deck that looks down on the pool and runs all around it. It is a favourite place for exercise. You don your shorts, T shirt and comfortable shoes and walk round it endlessly, going nowhere but checking your phone or watch to see if you have done your necessary steps. Mindless exercise.

But today there is an unusual sight. A stick woman has mistaken it for a fashion runway. She is wearing a very short Pucci dress with his trade mark colors of bright orange and red swirling across her skeletal body, a huge pair of Jackie O sunglasses, a Tory Burch cross body bag and a pair of wedge flip flops in the exact shade of red as her dress. The nearest land is a mile away but she can easily be spotted from there. The purpose of the handbag is unclear, as she is unlikely to pass any designer stores or indeed a cocktail lounge on her way round the deck. Nothing she is wearing is suitable for exercise, and nor is she. Stick women do not exercise. Muscles are their enemy. They spoil the lines of the perfect x-ray .

The purpose of this outing is to be seen. She stays close to the railings giving those below the optimal view of her. Her shoulder length hair carefully dyed to a light brown is caught by the breeze and blown away from her long neck. Her makeup is impeccable. A diamond studded watch glistens in the sunlight. It has taken a great deal of care to look this good. Having perfected her runway walk, a slow strut with legs tightly together, chin up, minimal hip movement and a large amount of attitude, she slowly parades around the deck. She has timed her appearance perfectly. There is a sizable crowd sitting around the pool.

People start to notice her and look up. She is well aware of their attention, but keeps her neck stiff and looks straight ahead feigning disinterest. She is relishing her moment on the catwalk. She makes a complete circuit and then pauses to look down at her audience. Feigning a look of complete surprise that people have been watching her, she waves and smiles at some she knows, and then waves and smiles at people she doesn’t know. Then she turns and, smiling to herself, makes a perfectly timed exit.

She deserves the celebratory lunch that she will soon be having. Maybe three leaves of arugula this time. And a vodka martini very very dry with a twist. No olives. There are 5 calories in an olive.