Confession: I lived in London for 3 years, yet never stepped foot inside the National Portrait Gallery. I somehow regarded it as the smaller cousin of the imposing National Gallery that overlooked Trafalgar Square, and regrettably overlooked it.
On a recent visit to the city, I decided to right that wrong. I ended up losing myself in the Gallery for nearly 3 hours, looking into countless pairs of revealing eyes (and missing lunch).
Filed under Art, Family, Travel
I’m a Daddy’s girl.
Maybe it’s because he was the first person to see me after I was born, to welcome me into the world, our family.
My mum took me to watch a ballet class when I was 5. I thought the girls looked rather queer in their navy leotards, feet splayed and fingers delicately, unnaturally arranged. Before long, I became one of them.
My mum was nothing like a crazed Dance Mom – she wasn’t amazing at ballet buns, and I think my dad was better at sewing elastics/ribbons on shoes (sorry Mum!).