I felt personally attacked when I saw our story on Hollywood hoarders on page 30. Not just because I’m bloody terrible at throwing things out and have a collection of useless knick-knacks to rival Billy Crystal’s, but also because of the picture of the big zebra head on the page.
Now, while I’m yet to have the NW-ettes over to my apartment for a wild flatwarming, they’ve seen my “safari pimp palace”, as it was dubbed by a former housemate, on Instagram and marvelled/cackled at my collection of amazing/hideous zebra-print items. The sneakers, the ornaments, the doona, the rugs, the clothing, the soft toys, the bikini formerly worn by Mel B... Almost everything but an actual zebra’s head. (Got a spare, Jack White?)
However, I’m not the only magpie in…
