Fag Hag Diary



Just a quickie today my little nylon teddy bears (the ones you might find nestling in a Clinton’s Cards basket) as I’m teetering off to London’s glittering London to attend the Wallpaper* Design Awards.

‘Where is it?’ asked my friend Tom Freud who’d rung for a chat. ‘Let me guess, somewhere insanely trendy. An empty swimming pool in a Baltic state? A disused tube station in east London?’

‘No,’ I replied defensively. ‘Actually, it’s in west London. Oh okay then, it’s actually in a disused royal mail sorting office.’

So wish me luck. Who knows, maybe I’ll pick up an old postman or two – you know how I love a man inĀ uniform…

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One comment to “Fag Hag Diary”

  1. I find postmen usually have a whiff of something unsavoury about them. Not necessarily in a bad way.

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