Things You Don't Know

I love the idea of Post Secret. I'm addicted to the site and the fact that the poster must feel an immeasurable amount of freedom after sharing their secret with millions of people.

On the right-side of the page I have included a list of things you don't know about me. The plan is to elaborate on one or two of the points each week and then update the entire list.

"I wear hair extensions"

I can't help it. It's my achilles heel. I spend about £200 every 6 weeks on extensions. I like to think you can't tell because they are only a little longer than my real hair. I have them because I love thick, straight, fuss-free hair. I can colour them and generally mistreat them in a way I couldn't, wouldn't my own hair. I think they are the best thing invented since chemical straighteners. But, as we all know, nothing comes without some sort of price. The following are problems commonly encountered by those who wear extensions:

1. You jump a mile everytime someone goes to touch your hair because you don't want people feeling the extensions

2. Everytime you tell someone you wear extensions you have to put up with people lifting up your hair so they can see them (and in the process showing them to everyone in the vicinity)

3. You have to live with the knowledge that you could treat yourself to a weekend break in Paris/Venice/Barcelona, or a designer handbag/shoes, dinner at Claridges every 6 weeks with the money you spend at the hairdressers

4. You increasingly look like you've been dragged through a hedge backwards as you get closer to the next hardresser's appointment

5. You can't help but sympathise with the likes of Jordan/Jade and their own special relationship with extensions.

6. A really strong gust of wind can reveal your secret to the whole world. As a result, you have enough hair grips, clips and alice bands to stock a salon.

When I was 10 I had a pink Secret Diary and to the question "What do you want to be when you grow up", I wrote "Lawyer/Prostitute"

Yes, I knew what a prostitute did. I liked boys and sex looked like fun on the TV - it seemed like the perfect profession! While I was immature (clearly) I was pretty sexually aware and couldn't wait to get started (it's a wonder I was a virgin until 17!) and Pretty Woman made it all seem fantastic. I blame it all on Pretty Woman for making me think that prostitutes were a bit like Cinderella with the exception that they got to go to fancy places and massive shopping sprees whilst they waited for their prince. The fact that I shouldn't have been watching Pretty Woman at 10 is obviously irrelevant.