My clothes are not about fashion fireworks they are about a woman, making a woman look and feel her best. The same is true about Bobbi’s makeup. The most important thing to her is making the models look pretty. She is not driven by lavender eye shadow one season and then something completely contrary the next. It’s never about totally veering off. We have worked together for my runway presentation for six years now. And it’s never like, My gosh! That’s the most interesting makeup! That’s not the point pretty is.


Most Chinese crews at that time were from Hong Kong and seemed to provide a better environment for the cadet, because they were more polite and had no particular desire to mock or demonstrate that they knew more. They treated the junior cadets with a sort of avuncular glee and were respectful towards the more senior ones. A few of the crew leant on the rails by the gangway, dressed in blue work clothes and caps. They watched us board, smiling broadly. A couple had gold teeth. None were particularly young. We looked on in mild bafflement as Ben and Chung had their garbled exchange. No doubt we would master the language in due course. We crunched across the rusting deck and along the flying bridge to our home for the next nine months. A happy looking steward in a vest and blue-chequered trousers met us at the entrance and guided us to the first cabin on the starboard side: two single bunks, a sink, two lockers, two portholes.

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