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It happened on my 30th birthday.
I'd been planning it for weeks. Securing cute little coupés from the party hire store. Forking out a fortune for helium balloons. Stocking eskies with enough champagne to keep 40 thirsty girls with a drink in their hand at all times.
And we had the best time. We danced, we took photos. And I loved them.
I was glad I wore red (and not my usual black). That my hair stayed curly for more than five minutes.
The problem?
That one, rogue, beige hair tie on my wrist, glaring back at me in every photo, like a stubborn ex-boyfriend you can't photoshop out of frame.
A great photo…until you see… Image: Cassandra Green.



























