I would definitely waft. You know, as if with the (Chanel) breeze. I’d also probably talk a bit less and almost definitely not be so clumsy. I imagine also, that my wardrobe would be full of beautiful silk jumpsuits and original vintage dresses, and I would be able to walk comfortably in heels. My hair would never flick awkwardly at the back and fringe and I would be glowing, as if fresh from a walk picking peonies in a field, even whilst on the tube. Then, I suppose I would never actually take the tube. If I was rich.
I am not rich.
I’m currently trying to start a beautiful magazine, Lionheart Magazine (hurrah!). Essentially it’s for those like moi; with imaginative and real features, craft, fashion, gardening, cooking, nutrition – the lot. I love the dear thing, but alas, I am sure money will not arrive like an organic, spontaneous waterfall from its roaring mouth. Naturally I will now insert the disclaimer: Money has never been my motivation, loving what I do has always been most important to me. HOWEVER, it would be nice to occasionally buy that amazing red maxi skirt I saw in Topshop, par exemple.
I have done some exceedingly terrible jobs in my time. These include onion picking, selling ironing board covers and ringing people to do beer packaging surveys. Through this I have learnt some vital lessons about money. It only goes so far. Normally, not far. Once those pennies have been spent, they aren’t coming back unless you earn them back.