Diaphanous

I ended up reading the latter a few weeks ago while waiting for Artemis Szekir-Regis in the Hill Garden and Pergola on the edge of Hampstead Heath. The light was low, with everything washed gold. It’s a magic space there, like stepping back into some glorious, vine-woven Italian folly from the early twentieth century. When Artemis arrived, she pulled out her camera and a seventies wedding dress from her backpack: a glorious garment that looked the perfect cross-pollination between Kate Bush and the Pre-Raphaelites. I realized it was the first time I’d dressed up in a wedding dress for years. The same thrill was still there, as there always is with any kind of...