So, it’s been a long time, again, but I am back! My first big admission is that I am officially addicted to Glee and cannot believe the first series is over! Whichever genius producer came up with the idea of a new series aimed solely at girls like me and you who live mainly to sing along to 80’s rock ballads is a God. Journey is now my ring tone, and never fails to make me smile. So imagine my delight when the Glee cast turned up at a party I was at on Thursday night...while Mr PB was dribbling over seeded tennis players, I was dreaming of living out my fantasy and rocking it out with Mr Schuster. I tried in vain to get his attention, strut it out on the dance floor, sing loudly...but no, nothing. Instead just a very drunken Mr PB attempting to piggy back me to the car and sing me his very own version of a rock ballad. Not quite the same, but endearing none the less...

My big sister is turning 40 this weekend. The drama is immense. You would think she was going to the moon. But then maybe it feels like that. She has been dieting for 3 months in the run up to the big day, worrying about her outfit for 6 months, and asking me everyday how old she looks. The local facialists think that Christmas has come early. Why does the big 40 scare us all so much? I keep telling her I am getting older too, so it is impossible to be objective about her age - I still feel 21, she still feels 25, and I hope that this will never change. Bring on the dancing on that bar this weekend, sis - just like the old times..except my skirt may be longer...

London Fashion Week last week, and I have only just recovered! At the show all day, and then partying every night. Fabulous, I loved it. But, I also wondered why we buy into it. A certain well known fashion editor was wondering around in heels she could not walk in, muttering away to her assistant who was wandering around with her watering can all day. Then, said editor, went on to someone's stand to 'borrow' some clothes, stripped off where she stood, changed, and then left! And the funniest thing is that her and her assistant looked ridiculous. And yet despite this, we let them dictate what fashion should be, how we should look, and we crave their approval. But in reality, do they really know any more than us? One look would prove otherwise. But when I mentioned this to other exhibitors, they all said well, she is in fashion, she is someone we look up to, she needs to look mad. I disagree. I think it is scary that fashion is dictated by people who wear extraordinary outfits, and can make or break a fashion business in minutes just by expressing their opinion. In reality, don't we all just want a dress that makes us look pretty, or jeans that make us look thin? Well I know I do.