I always feel pangs of jealousy when I walk through kiddies clothes sections, it seems like they get all the great colours and extravagant designs. Really now, do I have to stop wearing pink and glitter when I reach 14? Is it compulsory that I give up on sparkly headbands, plastic heels and yellow faux-fur coats? I resisted for as long as I could, making the most of my very slender frame until I hit 17, discovered the wonders of eating out and alcohol, put on 10 kilos and weighed my way away from kiddy hangers and glamour. Not that I'm complaining (much), since I discovered that fat has a few benefits, such as tits and a bum (one word: corsets!), but I admit I do miss the fun in clothes that seems so abundant (and cheap) in children's stores. M&S has always been the best for me when it comes to sequins, ruffles and all things girly:
And it's not just about clothes. I mean, can't I take this Beijing bookshop home and set it up as my own personal library? Goodbye Ikea, hello Kid's Republic! Not that I've got anything against Ikea. An hour of wondering around their huge store in Malaga, discovering that agoraphobia and claustrophobia are closer than people suspect, helping my brother to find a decent sized desk for his scary four-screen computer set-up (which they didn't have), was made up for thanks to their delicious soft ice-cream, reminiscent of my personal favourites: British 99s.