Tights

Tights

So I bought Grazia the other day, but didn’t read it because I knew it would either bore me to frumpy tears, or force me to be shrill about the amount women are encouraged to spend on fucking handbags. But anyway, that’s not what I brought you here to talk about. I...
Running

Running

By Flora Cramp Last Boxing day, when I was too full to do a jigsaw or argue with my dad, I sat in the chair near the cat litter tray with a bottle of sherry, and stared at the wall for six or seven hours. Ignoring my mum’s conversation about whether Jeremy Irons had...