☕️ Alice’s Mad Tea Party Presents:
🫖 Alice Spills the Tea: The Most Expensive Lies in History
“Because some people paid a fortune for fake news.”
Alice clinks her teacup lightly, swirling it thoughtfully.
“Alright, darling, buckle up. This next one is a tale of art, mystery, and a little bit of public manipulation. Because we’re talking about the one and only Mona Lisa.”
She leans forward, her voice lowering as if about to spill a dark secret.
“Now, you know the Mona Lisa, right? That famous painting with the smile that’s been mystifying and mesmerizing people for centuries. You’ve seen it in every museum, on T-shirts, mugs, and probably your Instagram feed too. But here’s the thing—the Mona Lisa wasn’t always a big deal.”
Alice holds up a finger, signaling a pause in the dramatic build-up.
“You see, back in the day—when Leonardo da Vinci first painted it—nobody cared. No one was running around talking about how groundbreaking this painting was, how it was the epitome of artistic genius, or how it would become the icon of the Renaissance. Nope. Back then, it was just another portrait—and a kinda boring one at that.”
She grins, clearly enjoying herself.
“Lemme tell you—the Mona Lisa wasn’t a global sensation until it got stolen. Oh yes, darling, you heard that right. The painting was swiped from the Louvre in 1911 by an Italian man named Vincenzo Peruggia who thought it should be back in Italy. For two years, the Mona Lisa disappeared, and during that time, it became this mysterious masterpiece—everyone started talking about it.”
Alice smirks and leans in.
“When it was returned to the Louvre in 1914, suddenly it was the most famous painting in the world. And now? Well, now it’s priceless. But—before it was stolen? People were barely paying attention to it.”
She raises her cup like she’s toasting.
“Publicity stunt, anyone? The moment people were told something was rare, lost, and mysterious, they wanted it more. And just like that, the Mona Lisa became the cultural icon we know and love today. Oh, the power of a good story.”
She shrugs nonchalantly, as if the whole thing is obvious.
“Fake news didn’t start with the internet, darling. It’s been around for centuries, and this was one of the best examples of it. The Mona Lisa wasn’t always a big deal—it was just marketed that way.”
Alice sips her tea, savoring the warmth of her revelation.
Alright, alright! Let’s slow this down and really unpack the Mona Lisa for you, darling. We’re going full-on into the wild world of conspiracies and hidden truths.
“Now, where were we? Oh yes, the Mona Lisa. It wasn’t always a big deal, folks, but after it was stolen, it became an international sensation. You know the story—Vincenzo Peruggia, the Italian thief, stole it in 1911, thinking it belonged in Italy, of course. He stashed it in his apartment for two years—just waiting for the right moment to sell the piece. But here’s the kicker, darling. While it was gone, the world lost their minds over it.”
She pauses for effect, her eyes narrowing like she’s about to reveal a juicy secret.
“Let me tell you something most people don’t know: the Mona Lisa’s theft wasn’t just some run-of-the-mill crime. No, no. This was a massive publicity stunt. Think about it—the Louvre wasn’t getting the crowds it expected, not the way it does today. People were more interested in other exhibits, and the Mona Lisa—at least at that time—was nothing special.
But, once it was gone? Suddenly, everyone had to see it. It went from being just another painting to being the symbol of lost beauty, the mystery, the mystique. Everyone was asking: Where is it? Who took it? Why was it stolen? And how could anyone possibly value something so stolen, so hidden? Suddenly, people wanted it. People were obsessed with it. And bam, just like that, you’ve got a global icon.”
She gives a little chuckle, clearly relishing the conspiracy.
“Let’s backtrack a sec, though. There were conspiracy theories galore around the time of the theft. Some believed that Peruggia was part of a larger Italian nationalist plot—that he thought the painting should be returned to Italy as part of their historical pride. Others, however, thought this was more than just a nationalist stunt. Some theorists argue the theft was actually staged as part of an elaborate scheme between the Louvre and various art dealers to boost the value of the painting. You know, create a little mystery, a little drama, and boom, you’ve got yourself a cultural icon.”
She gestures with a flourish, clearly enjoying the drama.
“Did Da Vinci intentionally make the painting so mysterious? Was he in on it centuries ago, knowing that someday someone would spin a web of lies around this portrait, turning it into a priceless masterpiece? Some even suggest that Da Vinci’s choice of subject—a woman with a smile that’s neither fully happy nor sad—was meant to make people wonder. And hey, that smile? Totally unexplainable. Is she laughing at something we can’t see? Is she hiding some deep secret? Is she just that cryptic? No one knows. And everyone wants to know.”
Alice leans forward now, eyes practically glowing.
“And let’s not forget the true scandal in all this—the Mona Lisa was nearly destroyed! It was damaged in the 1950s when someone threw acid on it. ACID. If that’s not a plot twist, I don’t know what is. But it’s survived, and it’s back on its pedestal, ready for tourists to stare at it and whisper about its mysteries. Because what is art without a little drama, right?”
She winks.
“Anyway, by the time it was returned to the Louvre in 1914, the world was crazy for the Mona Lisa—but don’t forget, darling, that it’s the story that made it priceless, not the paint or the brushstrokes. What could be more valuable than a piece of art with a mystery wrapped around it like a velvet ribbon?”
Alice sits back, satisfied with the swirl of conspiracy theories she just laid out, the tea practically steaming with all the intrigue.
“So, no, it wasn’t always a big deal. But by the time it was returned and slapped with a giant label of ‘priceless,’ it sure became one of the most expensive lies ever told.”
