When I was nine years old, all I could talk about was the Spice Girls. They had arrived from nowhere in a riot of big hair and bigger attitudes, high-kicking their way into my consciousness, where they commandeered 80% of my waking thoughts. I loved their unruliness, their fearlessness and, obviously, their massive shoes. In the Spice Girls universe, girls were better than boys (something I’d long suspected), and friendship was better than romance.



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