The tops of her arms were covered in bruises where he had held her down, her wrists blazed with grazes and her back was a canvas of friction burns. If she had been dusted for prints, his would have covered every inch of her body. She was his plaything, at her request, and he loved the privilege implicit in destroying the efforts of her

Arriving at his apartment, she texts him 'Let me in'.

He comes to the door and goes to kiss her before stopping short, 'Bloody hell! What are they?'

'They are Louis Vuitton bunny ears' she says barging straight past and into his place 'don't you know anything?'

He laughs and wat

While this yearning to not belong or be answerable to anyone dominated her waking existence, her deepest

When it

I own a very nice zebra print bikini. And I have zebra print sandals too, but they are very flat. They don't quite satisfy this girl's love of the high heel.

So how amazing that in the midst of this new fascination, I discover that Mr Blahnik has ob

She was only 22 when she had Daniel, 25 when she had Anaïs. They had different fathers and both had offered to make a decent woman of her. Christine was of the opinion that she already was a decent woman and it seemed entirely bizarre to her that they felt duty bound to marry her.
She would say "Both my children were conceived in love." and that was enough in her world. She was a

I am about to set feminism back fifty years or so, but it appears to me that somewhere in our quest for so-called liberation, courtesy got chucked out with the chastity belt. I like men. Well, certain kinds of men. Men with manners. And it appears that they are rarer than hen's teeth these days.

When did it become acceptable to invite a girl out to dinner and then expect her to pay half? This happened to a good friend of mine last week. Having been on a per

The Red Shoes. I always loved the ballet film with Moira Shearer and the fairytale on which it was based. It tells of a girl who put on red shoes and began to dance. At first it was fun but the shoes soon took on a will of their own and would not stop dancing. The girl was obliged to dance day and night until she was exhausted and desperate. The ending is gruesome in tr

Marie marched through the door heavily in Belstaff boots. Her gait was inelegant, like a farmer. She had one of her angry rashes. When she got mad her face and neck went purple, which clashed vi

A black and white snapshot. My Mother sits prettily on the Carnival Queen float, waving demurely from underneath her crown

The new February Vogue plopped through my letterbox last week, pregnant with possibilities. A new season, dazzling new delights to daydream in. And a very good issue it is too, with a stunning shoot 'Light and Fantastic' mixing up gossamer and neon body con. (p138 pink neon bikini bottoms peaking out from a sheer sea foam organza skirt. Genius, as Vince Noir would say.)

But it was the Catwalk report that contained the prize. Stars, it s

The window of Patisserie Valerie is always worth seeing. All those beautiful cakes,

There once was a girl called Anais who presided over a strange little place in the city called El Morocco. She was a girl who quite frequently thought s

Breakfast at Tiffany's Truman Capote

A man is a two-face, a worrisome thing who'll
Leave you to sing the blues in the night...

My Da