When I was a little kid, my sisters and I had a baby-sitter after school. She wasn’t very interested in us; stuck pretty much to reading her romance novels. And to get the peace and quiet required to read, she’d plonk us down in front of a lot of Walt Disney films.
My favourite? Sleeping Beauty. Maleficent the witch queen reminded me of the women in the magazines my father kept hidden in his study. Brazen and powerful, they stared down the camera and into me with a mixture of desire and contempt. Continue reading