In celebration of turning 27 – the notorious age of a club I idolised ten years prior, the 27s club – I accepted I am not what I thought a 27 year old is and documented a stuffed toys adventures in Italy.
No one ever really is their idea of an age.
Although those stars are shrouded in a cloud of mystery, filled with sex, drugs, rock and roll, and oozing with cool and maturity, they’re only stories. As someone who doesn’t know them, nor anyone like them (and I hope I don’t join their club) I can now, with my low level of maturity, put those stories in a box and label it as fiction, as I live honestly myself.
And maybe my honesty is childish.
But I like fun.