Iris Shuttleworth26 February 2019
It has become more or less axiomatic that if women want to achieve equality in our time, we must first strip ourselves bare—revealing our worst shames, heartaches and sins so that we may be seen as utterly human. To be a woman in public these days is—more often than not—to be in the business of confession.
Do you remember being five years old and making yourself sick on too much chocolate? Remember learning for the first time that there is such a thing as too much? It must have seemed like such a strange idea before that moment, that you could have too much of anything. We were born needing.
My phone promises that I keep track of time. So why do I keep losing track of time instead?
2018 has been a good year for cowboys. They are no longer confined to your grandfather’s favourite Clint Eastwood films and the bitter dust of myth and history. The cowboy can be found on the catwalks of Milan and the bike paths of Brunswick. Where did all these cowboys come from? Where are these lonesome souls going?
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