Dear Deborah Ross

Help me out here Deborah.  Why did you feel it necessary to pen a column in the Times this week where you said that influencers should be relabelled “Detestable Freeloaders”?   Well I know what brought it about, your watching the programme about Cliveden and the inclusion of two influencers called Katie and Ben, but why did you have to give them (and all other influencers) this new moniker and

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Advent calendars, all with next day delivery

Let’s face it, I can’t be the only one who hasn’t quite grasped the idea that December starts at the weekend, can I?  Can I?  Anyone?  Bueller? Which means I may have been a bit slow off the mark with advent calendars.   And I know that the cardboard ones I had as a small child aren’t really going to cut it.  Even the ones I had that were covered

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Technology is killing spontaneity

It hadn’t really occurred to me to be honest, that technology is killing our ability to be spontaneous.   In fact I was always thinking the exact opposite.    That having so much information in the plan of my hand as allowing me to have more knowledge of what I could do if I wanted to be spontaneous.    How finding ourselves with a free Saturday afternoon at home would

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The one about tights

You might think that writing a post about tights is bit “huh” but bear with me.  If you wear tights as often as I do you will appreciate how phenomenal it is when you find a pair that actually fits you.  Not just feel alright, but that actually fit.   For years I have battled buying tights that ended up falling down half way through the day.   I have

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Rethinking Imposter Syndrome

Have you heard about imposter syndrome? … a psychological pattern in which an individual doubts their accomplishments and has a persistent internalized fear of being exposed as a “fraud”. 70% of us recognise these thoughts in ourselves apparently, and can understand the impact this has on not just our work lives, but our every day lives. I have had it for years, essentially it means I think I am useless.

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RIP to the duck in the mask

This isn’t going to be big news to you I know, but I felt I should explain, and do it here rather than posting one of my usual (of late) really wordy Instagram posts. I have killed off the duck in the mask that has served as my avatar on line since I first joined Twitter nearly ten years ago.   I have never been one for messing about with

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So yeah. This is me: Mummy Barrow

Are the lyrics to This Is Me, from the Greatest Showman not some of the greatest ever penned?  When I thought about writing a post to introduce myself and say “so yeah, this is me: Mummy Barrow” the lyrics of this song instantly sprang to mind.   When the sharpest words wanna cut me down I’m gonna send a flood, gonna drown them out I am brave, I am bruised

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Which new Amazon Device is going on your Christmas list this year?

  From the road you would have no idea that behind that unassuming wooden door stands the most incredible home.   Featured on Grand Designs a few years ago it is hard to imagine that this building was a derelict and crumbling old violin factory.   Just a five minute stroll from Waterloo there is a peace about it, it’s a little oasis of calm. Echo Sub — £119.99 Echo

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#10amWithTea

  But don’t you see, T?  Your niche is you Hmm I hadn’t thought of that when I had a wobble on Instagram recently.   I kept reading that people on that social media platform need a niche, a curated feed, a USP that made people want to follow them and devour their posts.   A planned grid so the pictures when looked at all together had a theme.  

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How to create the hallway of dreams

It’s a wonder that we ever bought our house because the hallway is all wrong.   The stairs come down straight to the front door.   Literally.   You can come down the stairs and with one foot on the bottom step you can have another foot out of the front door.  From a Feng shui point of view it couldn’t be more wrong.   Add to that the fact

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Sirens

I didn’t realise that sirens made me hold my breath. Past tense. It was the fact that I realised on Monday morning that I no longer subconsciously paid attention to them as they sped up the road that made me realise they had that affect on me.   That they made me hold my breath and wait for the phone call from my granny’s care home to say “we have had

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#BeMoreWitWitWoo

When I got the first one it was going to be the only one.   I didn’t really have a desire to cover my body in ink, just a wish to remember two friends in some way.   To remind myself that life is for living and that tomorrow you could be on holiday and die in a horrific freak of nature called a tsunami. That is what had happened to our

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