You can’t break up with all that make-up

No. I'm clearly writing about the latest reports from an American publication about Brad Pitt and ­Angelina Jolie.

According to the exclusive, the pair are arguing all the time and are at the point of splitting up. They are, according to the in-depth (OK, some paragraphs) piece "at each other's throats" because of Brad's secret texts to his ex, Jennifer Aniston. Jolie is seemingly furious that Brad and Jen are still in touch and Brangelina's only public outing in the last three months at the Cannes Film Festival was apparently just a front.

Between them they have about 19 children and I get that they'd put on a "show" at home so the kids don't get hurt. I understand them releasing joint statements saying everything is hunky-dory just to keep the press at bay.

Everyone has the odd dicky time and I'm sure they don't want to alarm their families and friends.
So I buy that they would want to keep a lid on it. But here's the rub. She would have spent at least a day getting ready for that premiere appearance. A small eager stylist with Chanel pumps, a lot of designer contacts and safety pins between her teeth will have organised the peach thigh-high split chiffon dress for her to wear.

They would have brought mountains of others and rejected the black (you did that at the Oscars, darling), the red (everyone is wearing red this year — be different) and the floral (what are you? 12?) and they would have tried on lots of shoes. They would have discussed height (Brad is miniature, smaller than Ronnie Corbett) and indeed comfort (the Cannes red carpet is long).

Someone else will have discussed hair with Angie for at least a couple of hours. There would have been "shall we put it in a bun?" and "I'm thinking a French plait would look nice" before they went with the long and perfectly-on-the-side-blow-dried look.

Then there's the make-up discussions. To gloss or not to gloss would have been high up on the topic list. On the Croisette the wind can be strong at this time of year. Would it be too risky to go for a lacquered-lip-look with the hair down?

This, by the way, usually always ends in tears as pieces of the clip-in extensions (maybe not all that lustrous red-carpet hair is hers) can whip all over the face and like a fly to sticky paper, whole tendrils could get stuck like glue to the mouth. Of course, the only way to release the lock is to physically wipe the glossy substance off the hair so that it doesn't creep round and attach itself to your back.

We haven't even got to the accessories bit. How about the diamanté bag in the shape of a duck? Nope? OK, Brad will just have to stick the mobile and the scarlet lipstick in his pocket.

So is it true? Are they falling apart? What I know about women is this: to keep up a front we'll do the school run with a smile etched on our faces. We'll sing "the wheels on the bus" to the kids at bath time as if nothing's wrong and we'll laugh off rumours that things have gone to the dogs when people call.

But we won't sit in a make-up chair for eight hours, have our eyebrows tinted, our toes painted, our hair played with and hoist ourselves into a skin-tight flesh-coloured dress to ­support our boyfriends if we don't love them.