Let's be Lady Edith.

Oh dear?

I'm the designs she has on the hunky farmer looking after her little deformed bastard, and I will drive his wife batty.

I'm Marigold, Lady Edith's secret love child and I'm "special"

I'm her deflated sense of self-worth every time her sister, Lady Mary, looks at me.

Bertie Pelham's HUGE uncut cock getting ready to sink into her hungry hole.

I'm Cousin Matthew new to Downton and rejecting Edith's advances during their church tour by suggesting they bring his mother along next time.

Marquess?

I'm her first wedding dress that didn't make it to the end of the wedding.

She out ranks everyone in her family. Suck it Mary!

Marchioness.

I'm Lady Edith's veil being tossed over the second floor railing and floating down to the entrance hall after the old coot Sir WhatHisFace jilted her at the altar.

I'm the incredibly handsome and dashing Lord Gillingham. It has nothing to do with Edith. I just wanted to be him.

I’m her dark eyes darting left to right furiously as Edith tries to come up with a retort at Mary, to rare avail.

I'm Lady Rosamund Painswick pursed lips after she's given Lady Edith a stern tongue lashing.

I'm her daughter who dearly wishes for a new first name. With my luck they would rename me Hyacinth.

I’m Lady Rosamund, accompanying Edith to a place where things like this are done.

I'm the beautiful Diana, the smart Nancy, the capable Deborah, the silly Jessica, the boring Pamela, and the excitable Unity whose lives were mashed together to make these TV character girls.

I'm the creaking floor boards under Tom's feet as he creeps down the hall to Edith's bedroom at 2am every other night. We're going to make a Lily for little Marigold.

I actually quite like the name Marigold, R15

I'm the fact that I'm the only member of the household who never seems to interact with any of the servants

I'm Phoebe Waller-Bridge, reading for the role of Lady Edith. I'm told I cannot not be funny and am, therefore, unsuitable.

I'm barely concealed resentment and sisterly loathing.

I’m going to look concerned and say, “Poor Mr. Pamuk.”

I'm the London band provincial Edith wasn't having.

I'm Lady Edith's finger wave hairstyle.

I’m the vague resemblance to Edith Bunker, who ain’t no lady.

I'm the word "bitch" uttered by Edith to her uppity, cunty sister.

I am Hercule Poirot, patiently waiting in the wings for my crossover "mash-up".

I’m Edith’s inexplicable choice of Marigold’s first name. Edith loathes her older sister Mary, why would she choose a name that sounds like “Mary gold?”

I'm the poor Swiss couple who had their adopted daughter yanked away after many months when birth mother Lady Edith changed her mind.

I'm the fake Tamara de Lempicka painting, hanging prominently on the wall of her posh dining room.

And the Drewe family, all of whom had their lives turned up upside down by Edith's indecisiveness, R30

[quote]I'm Lady Edith's finger wave hairstyle.

I’m Lady Edith’s finger. Kill me.

I'm the married farmer Edith merrily kissed and never displayed a shred of guilt over

I’m the apparently forgiven betrayals.

I'm one of her fabulous hats!

I'm Lady Edith trying to chat up Uncle Harold upon first meeting him to no avail.

I'm this facial expression or a version thereof. Sad eyes, quivering lips. Very tiresome.

I’m Jan Brady, Edith’s equivalent in sitcom-land.

I'm Lady Sybil. Thank Christ I died in childbirth so I never again had to endure that whimpering bitch of a sister and her drama.

I'm the witch nose. (That's all I see when I see Edith.)

I'm the actress who plays Lady Edith and the lady playing my mom is twice as old as me and 10 times prettier...

R42, IMO, Edith (Laura Carmichael) looks really good in that photo and, no, I don't think Elizabeth McGovern (Mom in DA) looks 10X prettier.

As much as the Edith character was irritating (IMO), she actually had the best body / figure of all of the women.

I thought the same thing, R43. Laura Carmichael looks great there.

I'm the fire that sadly didn't claim Edith as its victim.

I'm her Jewish grandfather (Shirley MacLaine's husband).

She will occasionally mention me in passing in publishing circles in an attempt to sound rather Bohemian but mostly wishes I never existed.

I'm her magazine The Sketch.

I'm all the crappy books she handed out to patients at the Abbey during WW1.

I'm Barrow. Edith is not obese, but why oh why did I have to carry her out of her bedroom during the fire?

I'm the "thank you" Edith strangely never gave Barrow onscreen for saving her from said fire

I’m those horrid “men in brown shirts” who did in poor Michael Gregson. In reality, most of the Lady Ediths of the world (like the Mitford sisters shown above) were anywhere from lukewarm to slaveringly adoring of Hitler and the Nazis.

I'm Barrow's hole, which was glad to be on the other side from Edith

I'm Spratt, the patroness of - and original template for - all DL salesbottoms.

I write for Lady Edith's filthy rag. And I LOVE it!

Spratt was one of the best parts, if not the best part, of the later seasons of DA. I hated all the love interests apart from Cousin Matthew, Mr. Pamuk and Branson.

I'm her journalism "career."

I'm the 685th time her father said, "Poor Edith"

I am Lady Edith's drop waist dresses and fancier shift dresses she changes into for dinner*.

I'm the feminist traits of Sybil's that miraculously transfer to Edith after Jessica Brown Findlay decides to leave

I'm her 1912 to 1914 curls.

I'm the best dress of the show (except maybe Rose's gold wedding dress) and I'm adorning Edith - not Cora, Mary, Sybil or Rose. Suck on that.

I'm the swift kick in the ass she deserves for moaning about her life as the Marchioness of Hexham, living at Brancaster, with a man who loves her and even her odd looking bumped into a heavy door love child, when, in fact, what she's moaning about is everything she ever fucking wanted. God, Edith.

I'm Mrs. Pelham, Bertie's mother, calling Lady Edith "damaged goods".

I'm Toad of Toad Hall.

I'm the Marchioness of Hexham, I don't have a Lady's Maid or a Nanny because I'm MODERN.

I'm the giant burn on Mary's burned ass - the one she has because Edith outtitles and outranks her now.

Let's please not be.

r66 = fat fugly nanny west

I'm Lady Gullible...err... I mean Lady Edith and I believed some burned and disfigured guy was my presumed dead 3rd or 4th or 5th cousin who I was once in love with but who was in fact betrothed to my BITCH sister, my nasty, jealous scheming BITCH of a sister.

I'm this fabulous Edwardian Lamp.

I'M THIS GLORIOUS FUR LINED COLLARED COAT.

I'm the fact that Edith is dating Andy the footman in real life, which I just learned earlier today.

R5 can we hear more about Bertie's huge uncut cock, please?

I am the nose.

I am the nose which got me the job playing Lady Edith in this TV soapie.

I am the nose of the real Edith— Dame Edith Sitwell (1887 – 1964) , poetess and attention-seeker.

I’m Sir Anthony- I raised an askanced eyebrow over the jolly-stanced state of affairs I found with her coiffure.

I'm the Marcel Wave which has to dragged down really low to downplay poor Edith's outsized nose.

I'm her odd resemblance to Lens Dunham, even though she is much thinner.