Once upon a time, there was a struggling scriptwriter. Well, I say ‘struggling’. It’s hard to say what he was struggling with, really. It could well have been a lack of ability. Or it might have been a timid industry in a time of ghastly cockup.
Anyway, this fellow was asked by a friend to do some website copy for her new professional venture. She’d come up with a character, you see, a sort of stonking Eartha Kitt / Lauren Bacall figure with bedroom eyes and drop-dead lines. And that impossible, catwomanish, turbo-fatale woman was going to be the voice of her boutique.
Would I write something fun?
Hell, yeah!
Now, because Miss Lala is a very, very busy woman (there’s a new shop opening in Monmouth Street later this year) the website copy never quite got proofread, so it’s a little rough. But just for fun, you can find it if you click on the Get Intimate tab here.
Need I say that it’s all an enormous fiction, and none of the characters are real? Well, except Lala herself, and she… has been known to tell little white lies…