‘If women remember that once upon a time we sang with the tongues of seals and flew with the wings of swans, that we forged our own paths through the dark forest while creating a community of its many inhabitants, then we will rise up rooted, like trees. . . .
"Buy flowers – or if you are poor, steal one from someone’s garden; the world owes you that much at least: blossom – and put them at the end of the bed. When you wake, look at it, and tell yourself you are the kind of person who . . .
Every woman has a some kind of relationship with shoes. For many I think it’s a kind of love affair. But for me shoes are full of complicated contradictions. Yes, it’s that serious. I’m not a lover of shoes, shoe shops or hairdressers for that matter. But that’s another story. When I was a kid, . . .
We’ve all been there. Young, free, infatuated. If you remember your own youth you will probably be glad that there was nobody recording your adventures on a mobile phone. Or maybe like so many others these days you have already had your private moments shared on the internet for everyone . . .
I was talking with an old friend, some one who has been around the block with me over the years. As with most women of a certain age, we got to the heart of the matter pretty quickly. I realised that for more than 20 years I have been inside the kind of job . . .