Raggity is about as far in my past as its possible to get. She slept with me in my first little cot when I was a baby, and the earliest recording of me speaking is a discussion on how she should be looked after.
She’s lived in a box for most of my life, carried around and kept on top of more wardrobes than I care to remember. She’s a bit stinky and very grubby in places, but she’s my oldest and one of my most loved possessions.
We’ve grown old together and let ourselves go a little. Our hair is more straggly and our shoes aren’t as well cared-for as they should be. But she’s a great reminder that a good helping of mascara and a bit of red lippy can make the dowdiest of us seem decidedly perky.