My best friends look better than me. I feel betrayed by their tweaks - they're making me feel second class: KATE MULVEY'S brutal account of the darkness at heart of female friendship
It all started at a reunion of my old university friends - all blow-dried hair, pouty smiles, deadpan stares and frozen foreheads, not to mention skin as smooth as a baby's bottom - on women in their early 60s.
It all started at a reunion of my old university friends - all blow-dried hair, pouty smiles, deadpan stares and frozen foreheads, not to mention skin as smooth as a baby's bottom - on women in their early 60s.
