The best thing in The Independent most weeks is Travey Emin’s “My Life in a Column”. Gloriously irrerevent, utterly unashamed and open, there’s nothing quite like it. Women traditionally don’t write like this:
“It’s like wishing your arse smelt of lemon, imagine what lemons would smell like.”
(And yes that should be a semi-colon, but still …)
Unfortunately she’s on a subscription system, but you can read the first part of this week’s column here.
And if you have somehow managed to avoid her story – it is true she is a media tart of an artist – there’s an outline of her career and lots of links here. (And the best of her art is also brilliant.)
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