I have a bucket-load of feelings about Lena Dunham.
I swing from hating her, to wanting to be her, all the way back to hating her again.
Luckily for me, Outlet Magazine gave me the opportunity to vent my spleen on a soapbox about the new media darling, and her autobiography.
I put together an article about Ms Dunham and her book, and called it Literary Prostitution: Not That Kind Of Girl.
She’s the bird that wrote Girls – in case you couldn’t give a rat’s bottom about her. And if she’s not Hannah, I’ll eat my hat.
I was also hugely gratified this afternoon while listening to my new favourite thing Chat 10, Looks 3 (rated above: sweater capes, calypso music, paisley tops, high heeled flip-flops that lift up your butt and give you a workout) to find out that Leigh Sales didn’t think much of Lena’s book either.
God bless you, Sales – you remain my hero.