I was 14, and my friend and I were in Barkers on Ken High Street. We were there because we wanted to try on Miss Sixty jeans, which we had coveted for months, and at £75 we were very far from getting. A gentleman walked up to us. We had become distracted, and were now simply wandering around stroking clothes we couldn’t afford. ‘Are you a model?’ I spun round, thrilled. He was talking to my friend. ‘You should be a model. I’m only in town for a few days, but I’d love you to head up the new Ralph Lauren campaign. Oh sorry, I’m the MD of Storm Models. Here’s my card.’ My friend quietly took his card and wandered off, embarrassed. I thought about running away from her in a strop but I was having a sleepover at her house that evening.

‘Let me see!’ She handed me the card. ‘Are you going to call him?’ ‘Of course not. Ooh look- there’s new Hello Kitty t-shirts.’ She strode purposely towards them. ‘Wait. You’re not going to call him? You’re not going to make millions of pounds and get free food and to meet Leonardo DiCaprio?’ (Looking back on it, I am impressed with my prescient awareness of Leo’s penchant for models). My friend was utterly unfazed. ‘Shall we ask to be picked up? We can rent a video because it’s Friday.’ Unless it was a video in which we could go back in time and make sure I never ever went shopping and was ignored and not asked to be a model while my friend was, I wasn’t that fussed.

Yesterday, I politely asked another friend how her day was going. ‘Oh my goodness. Guess what happened to me today?’ I should have stopped replying to my emails at this point. It’s as if the last 11 years hadn’t happened. ‘What?’ ‘A famous actor mistook me for an actress! He said I couldn’t possibly be an assistant, I had to be an actress because I was so pretty. Isn’t that ridiculous? People are hilarious’  People are not hilarious. I’m changing all my friends.

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