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  • DON’T DREAM IT, BE IT!

    DON’T DREAM IT, BE IT!

    4th November 2009 | 1 comments | 0 votes yet, click here to agree or disagree

    I have touched arguably the most famous breasts in Britain. When I laid my hand on the buxom girl in a PVC catsuit, little did I know it was a celebrity cup F I was touching. Having artfully dodged gossip magazines since puberty in favour of Russian realism, it was my gay entourage who informed me those implants belonged to Jordan.
     
    In other club nights meeting a celeb on the...

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CONTRIBUTOR

Lorena Di Nola

Lorena Di Nola

In the years that witnessed the internet revolution and the invention of the mochaccino, I was making my contribution to the advancement of knowledge by learning how to draw figures of eight with my hips and researching Russian terms for different models of carriage in use in Siberia in the 19th century. A translator, freelance journalist, project manager, belly dancer and excellent tiramisu maker, my career highlights include having written a travelogue for The Independent to tell the English about global beer habits - me, an Italian Chardonnay lover - and carried out a project for Yahoo on how to simplify our post-modern lives. With less than two years to go before turning thirty, my main current occupation is looking for my place in the world. In the process Ill-shaped thoughts and general observations on the human species will be leaving a trace here, alongside accounts of literary and arty events of different kinds, because I, too, believe like Dostoyevsky that beauty will save the world.