I’m at a bar in Hackney Wick, waiting in a queue for the toilet. I feel someone come up behind me. It’s a woman with dark hair. Her eyes are shining, crinkled; she might be smiling. 'That’s an unnecessary walking stick,’ she says. I’m caught off guard. I say, ‘No, it’s not,' and turn my back on her. We wait in silence. I am offended.
/ Fashion
/ Fashion
/ Fashion
I’m at a bar in Hackney Wick, waiting in a queue for the toilet. I feel someone come up behind me. It’s a woman with dark hair. Her eyes are shining, crinkled; she might be smiling. 'That’s an unnecessary walking stick,’ she says. I’m caught off guard. I say, ‘No, it’s not,' and turn my back on her. We wait in silence. I am offended.