Posted by: Vicky V | May 21, 2009


So I always knew it would be hard to be the one ant who fell out of line on the way to the sugar pot. I always knew it would be a challenge to turn down one tiny lick of a sugar granule when I hadn’t seen food for days, when my tiny little ant paws were sore from marching and my shell was sunburnt and ragged.

But today wasn’t just hard. It was painful with a capital P for pretty bloody painstakingly hard.

I can now confirm that Karen is a sabre toothed witch from the witchiest part of witchdom. Who blows fire out of her flared and pustuled nostrils.

When I got into work this morning from a very gentle and non competitive swim, I saw in reception’s appointment book that Patsy and Karen were due to meet Lydia Markhova at Shoreditch House . Now Lydia is the chick I spied at Alternative Fashion Week some weeks ago. I felt an affinity with her because she looked like Dr Spock so I referred her to our website (obviously telling her not to mention my name in any correspondence. I am observing my rules diligently you know).

“Yo Karen.” I said all casually (I use the word “yo” to aggravate her; she thinks it’s an 80s word that only untrendy saddos like me use)
“Who’s this Lydia person coming in?”
“Some unsolicited who got our details off someone at Alternative Fashion Week. Patsy said she was the most interesting girl she’d seen in a while so we’re meeting her together.” she replied, boredly.
I couldn’t help it, I just needed one lick of that sweet, sweet sugar granule.
“Yes, that was me who gave her the details.”
Then Patsy a.k.a Cream Horn walked by. Karen’s sabre teeth flashed and there was a little bit of flame. I was too late to zip up my new fireproof suit.
“You must be thinking of someone else, I’ve been following her at the student shows for some months.” She was lying. Her witchy eyes were turning the same green as her ridiculous little tassled pixie boots.
“She’s been showing great promise as someone I could really develop. I didn’t want to approach her direct until I’d got back from my holiday so it’s great timing that someone passed on the agency details. Must have been a designer”

“Excellent work Karen” said Patsy. “We could look at developing Lydia as your first client.”

Oh the pain. Oh the injustice perpetrated by a lying, fire breathing witch dragon. But I couldn’t enter into this. Meredith’s tear stained face flashed in front of my eyes and Suze’s angry red face appeared like a hallucination. It was too soon to risk my integrity and relationships again.

So I walked away from the sugar pot and went and bought myself a Magnum to dull the rage.



  1. […] I planted a half finished bottle of whiskey in the top of her handbag before a meeting with Lydia Markhova (the model I found and that Karen took credit for). […]

  2. […] When my heart had re-started, I set to raiding the makeup drawers and wardrobe. Maybe I was being mindful of the last time I saw him, maybe it was CH’s use of the term “fierce”, I don’t know, but I gathered as much animal print as I could find (scarf, leggings and boots) and hot footed it down to Somerset House, applying as much touché éclat and blusher as my excitable little face could hold. Karen greeted me as I got out of the cab. “Greeted” is too generous a term. Rather she swayed on her shoes (with heels that looked banisters), waved a mini Moet in my face and told me I looked like a giraffe. Ben rushed up, looking a bit bedraggled (who wears a cravat nowadays?), muttered something about Karen overdoing the sauce and shuffled me off in the direction of the catwalk show at which our client Lydia Markhova was about to make her debut. You may remember Lydia as the model I found at Alternative Fashion Week and who ended up being Karen…. […]

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