The picture was taken last year after a performance at Bum Bum Train (hence the dodgy makeup), it’s the only picture I have of my favourite gloves because last night I lost them in Soho. Never again will I be able to wear gloves where each finger is a cigarette, a little joke I could share with myself every time I wore them. I’m 27, and in a few weeks I’ll be 28 but whenever I lose something I turn into a child.
I think it’s because nearly everything I own is from a charity shop, so what my wardrobe items lack in monetary value they make up for in sentimental value. Is it just me or do you guys get ridiculously attached to your possessions? Other gloves I have loved and lost are some lined leather gauntlets with leather buttons around the top, and a witchy-green pair.
Luckily this story has a happy ending, Giselle, Magazine Machine’s Art Correspondent has offered to knit me a pair in time for next Winter. Watch this space.