Judith Chalmers, bless her heart, has shuffled off this mortal coil at the ripe old age of 90. The queen of the package holiday, the empress of the suntan, the grand dame of 'Wish You Were Here...?' is no more. But before we get too misty-eyed, let's ask the hard questions: was it all a lie?

Seriously, think about it. 'Wish You Were Here...?' ran for nearly three decades. Three decades of Chalmers frolicking on beaches, sipping cocktails (probably watered down), and telling us how AMAZING everything was. But did she really connect with the locals? Did she actually eat the street food, or did she have a personal chef whipping up bland British fare in her hotel room?

The Boomers ate it up, of course. Back then, TV was gospel. If Judith Chalmers said the Algarve was paradise, then dammit, you booked a flight and packed your floral swimsuit. Now, thanks to the internet, we know the Algarve is basically Benidorm with slightly better sangria. Progress, I guess.

And let's not forget the knickergate scandal. Apparently, Chalmers went commando for 30 years to avoid a VPL. Peak Boomer logic. Modern women got seamless underwear for that, but OK.

The real tragedy is that Chalmers never found MH370. Think about it: she traveled the world for decades. She had to have stumbled across something. Maybe a piece of debris on a remote beach? A cryptic clue in a local market? But no, silence. Coincidence? I think not.

Of course, now everyone is simping about her democratizing travel. Sure, she made it look accessible. But let's be real, the package holiday boom was built on cheap labor, questionable environmental practices, and cultural appropriation. But hey, at least the Boomers got a tan.

Now, it's all about Instagram influencers posing in front of infinity pools, hawking detox teas and waist trainers. Same game, different decade. At least Chalmers wasn't trying to sell us snake oil.

So, farewell, Judith Chalmers. You sold us a dream, even if it was a slightly airbrushed one. May your afterlife be filled with endless sunshine, unlimited cocktails (the strong kind), and zero visible panty lines. And maybe, just maybe, you'll finally find those missing Malaysian Airlines passengers.

And one last thing: the family says she left behind 'a giant suitcase of the happiest memories'. We can assume those memories include no undies.