Monday, 11 October 2010

A confession

The wardrobe of Princess Victoria of Sweden on a recent visit to Paris - photo from
I have an addiction.

No, it's not champagne (though it could be; just as well it makes me ill at times and is so bloody expensive...)

It's not booze in general; I seem to have some little switch somewhere that stops me from drinking to oblivion all the time.

It's not any other drug; I'm simply too old and foolish for that.

It's not food, though again it could be.

It's not shopping (although I was on first name terms with Net-a-Porter delivery man while living in the sticks and had his mobile phone number. Also don't ask/tell Husband).

It's not gambling, although a few weekends ago in a weak moment after a few glasses of champagne and surrounded by the most beautiful paintings I promised to learn bridge. (OK, I may have a problem with champagne)

No, my addiction is Svensk Damtidning, a Swedish gossip magazine. The style of the magazine is that of Hello if Hello was written by a passive aggressive matron with nothing better to do than keep on eye out for the Swedish Royal Family and other associated major and minor Swedish celebs. The opinionated insinuations are so bad they're good. And addictive. The magazine is hand delivered to me by a good friend...Yes, it's a bad addiction.

Take a look, I dare you not to Google translate the pages.

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