This year’s model

The Sunday Express | 14 Jul 1990

Super mini-model Anya wont get out of her cot for less than £150 a day. Insiders reckon she will take Paris by storm and be the hottest property in TV commercials. She is only 11 months old but combining the best points of Claudia Schiffer, Naomi Campbell and Yasmin Le Bon.

• Caroline’s Life,
• Shopping & Fashion

The night I was ambushed in my car – by a 13-year-old with pigtails

Evening Standard | 14 Jul 1990

It was seven o’clock on Tuesday evening when four children attacked me. I’d never met them before, never set eyes on them. I had just parked my car, a geriatric red Volkswagen Golf, in the King’s Road, by the World’s End estate. I was meeting friends, and was wondering whether I’d get a ticket for parking there. Just then, a young girl with pigtails crossed the road, walked between the rear of my vehicle and the one behind it, and delivered a forceful kick to the back of my car followed by smashing her hand on the rear windscreen.

What on earth did she think she was doing, I asked, as I wound down the window.

• Caroline’s Life

When credit runs out at the sperm bank

Evening Standard | 20 Nov 1989

It’s hellishly hard to get hold of frozen sperm these days. I’m sitting in the Lister Hospital – the Dorchester of London hospitals – in the waiting-room of the Assisted Conception Unit. The doctor is running three-quarters of an hour late. I can only console myself with the thought that if I were going for artificial insemination on the National Health I’d probably have to wait months.

I am hoping to get offered some sperm-bank sperm and thus become one of the growing number of single women who are accepted for artificial insemination by donor sperm (AID).

• Caroline’s Life

Tramp and the ladies

Evening Standard | 8 May 1989

The pouting girl in the loo shimmered, unremarkable legs squeezed into Lycra tights and see-how-far-you-can-go skirt hitched high. “Go on, you’re next,” she said. “It’s your turn.”

“I don’t want any,” I say.

“It’s coke.” She proffers a razor blade packet of snow provocatively from the palm of her hand. Outside, blissfully unaware, Mrs Toilet Attendant, sixtysomething, loses her rag: “Hurry up. We’re B-U-S-Y.” She spells out the word. Nearby stands a dish of peppermints, le pre snog preparation that the management vous propose, and a mound of makeup left behind.

Thus begins a night at Tramp, the London nightclub in which Pamella Bordes picked up Sunday Times editor Andrew Neil.

• Caroline’s Life