I saw Ellen Page on College Street near Kensington Market the other day. She looked like a surly high school student – the kind that, immediately upon reaching the age of 14, goes all Holden Caulfield-at-H&M, chopping the hair, losing the makeup, and oiling up her eyeballs for a good four or five years' worth of contemptuous rolling.
But I guess that's her thing. No offence meant.
Speaking of troubled/troublesome teenagers, there's this, which makes me feel young again, in both good and bad ways:
Nice to see the early solo work of Peter Gabriel finally getting some indie respect...
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A very subtle and funny writer - one I've become obsessed with over the past year - in a decidedly Muriel Spark mood. Imagine The Pr...
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