Small London observations. Walking down the street and looking at the back of a woman walking before me, with her husband. Both look like 65 or something. But the hair of that poor woman! It's painted bright red, but it looks like straw. Very thin straw. What has she done to make it look this thin? She must have tortured it to death for years and years. I even see a tiny bald spot shining through. And I have time enough to look at it, since they use the whole pavement. Poor soul, trying to look beautiful and ending up like this. Finally I pass them and can't keep myself from looking at her face. Ah, only in England. It's a transvestite. I don't know why this is a relieve. Her hair remains thin, but now I see it's the best she can get anyway. They look very satisfied together, walking arm in arm.
Less satisfied are the protesters outside of Harrod's. They carry signs against the fur coats Harrod's sells (the nice picture I took I can't show, because in a strange spasm I seemed to be able to delete it while trying to copy it..) Strange how the fur-subject has been carefully pushed under the carpet in Holland. During the eighties it was the easy cause for everyone needing to add some goodness to his character. Easy, to have the same opinion as everyone else and still feel opiniated! How different it is today.. But I feel with the loud protesters, so I skip Harrod's and walk on to a second hand bookstore. Another four books about popular culture. Tomorrow Marcel is arriving.