Power hour

For someone who eats quite as much chocolate as I do/is as OCD about dirt as I am/lives in grimy London, white clothes are a total liability. So plucking up the courage to wear this year-old 80s-power-shoulder-meets-biker Zara jacket to the office, on the Tube where slipped coffee and newsprint of the Metro is just waiting to mess with you, was quite a step. But I did it! And it's criminal not to wear a jacket this beautiful, isn't it? Just...don't walk behind me with a cup of coffee...

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