It was a typical pre-Christmas afternoon. I was on my way to see a friend of mine, I had made a reasonable effort, eyeliner was relatively even and I had brushed my hair into a state of rare submission. I certainly was not expecting any male attention, yet that is exactly what I experienced… in very strikingly different ways.
Monday, 30 December 2013
Wednesday, 11 December 2013
My nan was always a bit of a DIY-er when it came to beauty regimes and healthcare. Maybe I get it from her. Like the time she put dabs of lipstick on her earlobes because she thought it made her look "healthy". Or the time she filed the bridge of her nose with sandpaper because she thought it was too bumpy. Or the time that she couldn't hear properly on account of all the wax in her ear, and after stubbornly refusing to go to the doctor, phoned triumphantly to inform us that "I stuck a pair of nail scissors in there, so now I can hear perfectly fine!". No, I am not joking.
Thursday, 5 December 2013
Tuesday, 3 December 2013
A long time ago women had loads and loads of kids. Having loads of kids made sense - back in the day when smallpox and polio used to snatch young 'uns away to an early grave and the life expectancy at birth was only 18 in London, the grim fact is you had to have seven kids if you wanted two to survive into adulthood. And obviously, without the cushy welfare state to sit you in a care home and feed you boiled cabbage in your old age, having kids was a necessary financial investment.