What shall I wear to my book signing? Oh, this old thing . . .
Sometimes, I dream of the day I write my own book. I get slightly angry when other people I know do it, like Shane Hegarty, Conor Pope and (soon) Orla Tinsley. I imagine it’s going to be a really moving …
Sometimes, I dream of the day I write my own book. I get slightly angry when other people I know do it, like Shane Hegarty, Conor Pope and (soon) Orla Tinsley. I imagine it’s going to be a really moving roman a clef, which, obviously, people will want to read because (a) my life is very interesting and (b) I rarely give anything away on either my personal blog or on Twitter. Ahem.
When I dream of this day, when my book gets published and there is a lavish party, somewhere like the Shelbourne except marginally cooler, with “celebrity DJs” and a guest appearance by a former Hollyoaks star, I imagine what I might wear. If I’m feeling particularly crazy, my fantasy involves some kind of Burberry frock, perhaps in a tan colour (I will, of course, by very tan myself, have long, flowing locks a la Gisele and be much taller than I am now). When I’m feeling tame, I go more along the Reiss route, and I’m wearing some kind of tailoring, with a bit of cleavage and slightly less leg.
At no point have my book-writing fantasies involved a leotard and a bouffant hairstyle – and it is just now that I have realised this vital point is the reason my fantasies remain just that, while Katie Price’s dreams of publishing fame have come true.
And look! She’s blatantly disregarding the rules about showing either cleavage or leg, and has it done her any harm?! Eh . . .