“J’accuse”, the shawled woman’s stare seems to say. The Corsican lady on the label of a bottle of Colomba has the most accusatory look I’ve ever seen on a beer bottle. It’s the “I know your secrets” look. The fixed eyes that whisper “you thought you were alone”.
It comes as a relief that the beer within the bottle is nothing as venomous as the Corsican gaze burning out from the label.