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No country for old women: Old Ladies - at Finborough Theatre

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The day after seeing The Old Ladies at the Finborough Theatre , I was describing the play to someone in great detail: about three old ladies who lived in a rickety house in southern England in 1935. Based on Hugh Walpole’s novel and adapted by Rodney Ackland, it is the sort of story with enough believability, humour and mild thriller to stick in your mind. Perhaps it is the lure of this dark, forboding tale of a life without money, to be alone and to be old, that makes you feel attracted to this poverty porn. But then again, given the state of the world, the cost of living, an ageing population, or just the fact that it’s a dog-eat-dog world, it might as well be an every little old lady-for-herself, too. It’s a well-acted and staged piece that moves at a brisk pace, so there isn’t much time to think about it too much. And in the intimate (or should that be claustrophobic?) space of the Finborough, there’s nowhere to avert your eyes. Even if you wanted to.  The scene is a grim Cathe...
New Look... new products

Today was told my skin looked fabulous. I explained could have been the result of:

  1. Several litres of water (with gas) I have consumed in the past 24 hours
  2. Some anti-aging face mask I had a sample of and applied overnight
  3. Sauna at the gym at Bayswater from Sunday
  4. Bronzing anti-shine face powder (just the thing for polluted London streets)
  5. All of the above

Much later, after a 20 minute jog at the gym, one did not look as great. Yet to master the look cool in the gym. Just look sweaty instead.

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