This evening I found myself doing a spot of child minding for the younger generation of media brats. I arrived to find them stuck into a Bratz Dolls dvd, but rather than mindlessly going along with the god-awful image of American childhood (revolving, it seems, around anorexia, hair extensions and OMG! Best Friends For, like, Ever!) my fellow MBs, were taking a thoroughly post-modern ironic approach to the whole thing.
I guess that's what a childhood in Kentish Town does for the upper-middle class youth of today.
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