I have a t-shirt. It is years old. IIRC I bought it a Mayday Festival - or possibly a Greater London Labour Party Women's Conference - and I think I bought it from a stall run by Tower Hamlets Labour Party as part of a fundraiser for the cross-community effort to defeat the BNP. I can picture the woman who sold it to me, but I can't recall her name.
Despite being a dozen years old, and a much loved t-shirt, it's still in reasonably good nick, at least to be worn around the house or over a bikini when leaving a beach.
Women use it to engage in conversation, and I don't mind too much if men use it as an excuse to stare at my tits.
Wild Women.
It has a list of names on it, and although I know a lot about some, a little about others, there are others again, that are barely more than names. I've been meaning all these years to find out more about them, and this seems as good a way as any to do so. To have a series featuring those forty names...well, 41, because it ends the list 'and Me'. Not a regular series, not a get it all done in a month, not do it religiously every Monday night series, but maybe to attempt to blog all forty, plus a few others, by the time I'm forty (oh heck that's fifteen months today. Oh dear!)
So I inaugurate an irregular series of 'Wild Women'...
