I’ve always wanted a little girl. A little mini-me to mould into a strong, smart and caring adult and a confidant to take along on shopping trips who understands the value of a pretty little dress.
If a team of designers would spend 6 months building a 2.5-ton fake sun to hoist over Trafalgar Square in London for only one day to cheer up the masses and rid them of their atmospheric gloom, I think it gives credibility to my theory that a lack of sunshine equals a serious case of the blahs.
