Turns out I live with my own little Kate Moss. Except she's not anorexic, or a cokehead. And she doesn't have a heroin honey for a boyfriend (that I know of). Miss Lizzie had a day at the shops recently with some friends and she came home and told me that a man had been following her. Not stalking she said, just walking behind her, looking at her. But she could tell he wanted to talk to her. (I'm slightly panicked at this stage but remain externally calm as I'm pretty sure that over the years I've done the whole stranger danger thing to death). So she stops to talk to him – obviously not enough stranger danger talk. He asks her if she has ever modelled and if she was interested in doing any modelling work and he gave her his business card and said to call him if she was. Of course I immediately looked up the website of the agency to check him out. Looks legit. Not sure if he'd still like the look of her after she has four teeth pulled out on thursday. But hey, it was exciting for her. In years to come she can tell everyone she was discovered at the mall. I have no idea who took this – one of her friends I'd say but it looks like something you'd see in a mag. And the annoying thing about her is she never ever takes a bad photo.