A face is a terrible thing to have. There was a woman on my bus this morning who didn’t just have bitch-face, she had gormless-bitch-face. And she was probably a very nice chap.
It did prompt me to wonder, though, do you grow into your face or does your face grow into you?
I don’t really feel like either at the moment. The light in the mens toilet at work is terrible harsh and it seems that I have Robert Morley eyebrows and the nose of a lush. My face and I are diverging…
I do like distinctive facial features. I was in a meeting with a man yesterday who had the most whimsical eyebrows I have ever seen. They moved completely independantly of each other. I was transfixed. And cannot remember a single word he said…