August 4, 2008
I heard her before I saw her; a girl of six, her barbie-pink, plasti clanking shoes on the pavement. With high heels, of course, and clearly very uncomfortable, cheap and inflexible. She stopped in front of the fountain, torn between the urge to step in and paddle, and continue strolling in her pink high heels – the plastic won, and she plodded off, clink-clank, wiggling her prepubescent bottom unselfconsciously. A slightly older girl, of maybe eight, dark mascara and turquoise shade on her lids, dangled her feet off a wall, disturbingly sensual in low-cut jeans and spaghetti top.