Turns out, we’re “couple bloggers”. Must be true, some apprentice hack reckoned it in the Grauniad. As a lifelong Guardian reader, I was slightly disappointed: I read the paper to feel guilty about (1) living in that London (2) secretly voting Tory (3) not eating enough pulses. I hardly expect to read some puff piece about the vanity of “couple bloggers” when I could be feeling bad about not really doing anything much about Sudan. Or the rioting classes. Or the Tories. Sadly, my day has been as guilt-free as bottom sex with a Catholic.
Ironically, my vain, narcissistic, egobucket of a lady wears all the clothes Guardian readers hate today. The Temperlery skirt probably contains manmade fibres, the shirt is from Danish brand RÜTME (think of the airmiles!) and the vintage Prada brooch is made from a lump of bone taken from the late Paul Foot’s chin.