It’s true that I popped into a bookstore expressly to purchase those 2 lovely magazine items pictured there.
And it’s true that I’m going to spend uninterrupted time this weekend reading them whilst drinking coffee (because tea, though oh-so-British, is also oh-so-not-my-caffeine-choice).
(Though really. What’s there really to read? It’s all pictures!)
But it’s also true that it was borderline embarrassing to be a grown woman buying this stuff.
I paid cash and scuttled out of there under my umbrella, escaping into the night with my contraband.
I do not apologize for my reading tastes. But, occasionally, I cringe (just a little) because of them.