Sunday, 22 August 2010


I am looking in the mirror and thinking what to do with the tragedy before me.
'I love it, it's mine and it's unique": that is what the "fat channel" make us believe. However I instead walked towards Harrods with the intention of buying an eye mask from Myla which for some unknown explanation allows me to sleep. Pills did not do it, men did not do it, but wearing a mask does. The beautiful satin makes me relax, falling into deep undisturbed sleep.
Of course, I got distracted by Agent Provocateur on Pont Street, went in and was helped by incredible glamour to get myself 'looking like a cutish kitten going out to see my lover'. An hour later I left with C cup bras and lots of lace entwined with gold, black and shocking pink. Normally I say no to gold thread and leopard prints but the ravishing young girls in the shop said I was an inspiration to all 50 year old women. That was more than enough compliments for the day. Bra's and little pants with silk slips over them - that is the way to go. Boy, did I look better. This is the proper way to dress and if I ever break an arm and have to go into hospital I will look stunning for the doctor.

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