In the past seven days, by contrast, I’ve attended a leaving party for friends in their late 50s who are starting a new life in the country; given a presentation on Post-War Art And The Politics Of Memory to fellow undergraduates on my part-time degree course; drooled over Ralph Fiennes in his latest theatre production; and hosted supper for some girlfriends — finding time, in between, to buy a pair of skinny jeans and get my roots tinted.
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