Four years ago today, in a crowded advertising pub in Baker Street, Katie met the man of her dreams.
She was just starting out in her first job after uni. He had holes in his Converse and Guinness in his beard. After much wooing with the largest glasses of the best vin de merde he could afford, she eventually consented to see him again, perhaps if only to find out whether he owned any clothes without holes in. He didn’t. But she decided that he’d make an interesting project at the very least. I’m still a work in progress.
We’re out to celebrate the anniversary of our meeting at L’Anima. Don’t wait up.