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Thursday, May 22, 2008


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No, please, no-one needs to see those pictures. Ever.
At least you looked like a laydee, as opposed to something out of Prisoner Cell Block H. Took me a fair few years to equate any hair cut that needs a razor to achieve it usually equates batting for the other side. Nothing wrong with that, but no wonder I never pulled...


Never mind the hair. What about that bag?


funny, that, I've had two in-person inquiries about that particular purse!


That's also the very same bag with a Nanna clip closing mechanism that you once had to employ to mask another 'popping sound' that you emitted in a hushed court room as a young court reporter. He heee


No, that was a leather Gladstone bag, of which I was particularly proud. Held all sorts of notebooks and pens and ace reporter paraphernalia. Good especially for bashing vagrants around the head if feeling threatened whilst on an investigative assignment out in some muddy god-forsaken gypsy encampment field in the middle of nowhere. Driving up in a Wisbech Standard mini was a bit conspicuous to say the least. Nowadays, I don't think many editors send their writers on such dangerous missions without a burly photographer in tow. Oh, hang on a minute..........


In fact, come to remember. It was an inquest of all things.....thanks for the visual, K, can always count on middle sis to conjure up a wide variety of my misadventures!

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Hi! I'm Frances Rivetti — lifestyle journalist, author, culture seeker
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