I threaded my belt back through the loops of my jeans and fastened the buckle. Then I laced my boots, making a mental note not to wear them next time I flew; such a palaver of eyes and hooks and long laces to wind around my ankles before double knotting. ‘How about a cup of … Continue reading The Truth About Love
Sheer, opaque, 10 denier, ribbed, woolly, black, tan, fishnet, and every colour of the rainbow; I like a nice pair of tights and I have scores of them, all tangled in a bag at the back of my wardrobe like eels in a bucket. Nor do I shy away from a patterned tight. I recently … Continue reading Legs Eleven
I’m in transit. Three horrible words: the act or fact of passing through; passage or conveyance from one place to another, as of persons or goods. This morning I’m definitely falling into the ‘goods’ category. I feel less of a person and more of a sack with a heartbeat. I feel like a DHL package, stuck … Continue reading In Transit
My Edinburgh Press 