There’s no getting away from it: with two weeks to go until I turn 35, I am now officially in my mid-30s.
You know what, though? I’m pretty much exactly where I want to be. Provided that I can still get away with dressing like a children’s party entertainer.
I’m so content right now – the usual mental health wibbles aside – that I actually had an answer when my sister called to ask what I wanted for my birthday (mint green Plattan headphones and a lemon tulle skirt, since you were wondering). But these birthday wishlists have become an enjoyable little habit, so here’s a look at what I’m coveting as I reach the age that Frank Turner was when he made the worst/best music video of all time.
PS Obviously, what I actually want for my birthday is not to wake up in a Tory dystopia. You know what to do x