‘Get in the gym? Hang out with some friends? No. Of course not. I went to London Art Week’s latest’
Hello dearest readers! What a while it has been. The wonderful editor has been away and I myself have been finishing my degree (I have studies now! Educated woman? That’s me). I have also managed to land myself a pretty schweeeet MA place at the RCA, how about that??! So it has been beyond hectic, and then a sudden change to the “Summer” (if you can even call it that) has meant a lot less in terms of workload, at least for now. No studying, got the sack- so you can imagine, my wonderful readers, that the word “restlessness” barely begins to cover how I’ve been feeling, acting, and sleeping. So, to ease some of this, did I do the normal thing and watch some shows? Get in the gym? Hang out with some friends? No. Of course not. I went to London Art Week’s latest.
So off I popped on the day advertised, to arrive at the times advertised. An hour’s travel to Mayfair in my favourite heels. “HEEELS????” I hear you screech. Yes ladies, gentlemen, theys and thems- heels. If you get the right booties you won’t have a problem with keeping them on for a long time without wanting to kick the nearest child from the excruciating pain. Just like choosing your partner, you must pick wisely which pair of heels will accompany you on life’s adventures. Lest you end up with a painful holiday to Tenerife where you had to sit out most activities because you didn’t pick well. And now you’re miserable and sore from all the wrong things.