When a 23 year old girl writes a poem, she tends to be a little pleased with herself. She shows her friends, she shows her boyfriend, and if she’s an international movie star, she shows a journalist from Marie-Claire. Read more…
I love GQ. I love manly, right leaning, luxury lifestyle brands. And I have come to consider myself something of an expert in luxury living. All I eat is M&S lobster crisps, and once I even drank champagne from Waitrose, when they were doing samples. Read more…
It has been said that you can fool all of the people some of the time, and some of the people all of the time, and absolutely nobody when you’re in a bathing suit. And when it comes to submitting to the pressure to be pretty, I survive by deceiving most people from a distance, constantly lying to myself and avoiding the water. Read more…
You’re 22. You’re 22 and the world is your crushed ice J Sheekey buffet oyster selection. (In fact, piece of life advice No. 1 – know your crustaceans. After oysters at Bob Bob Ricard, I got gastro enteritis and shat myself at passport control at St Pancras.) Read more…
Tell me about your bath. Is it an archaic porcelain vessel in which you sit,
stagnating in your own filth? Read more…