Jen’s take:
I’m not talking your Westfields or your Fenwicks. I’m talking your provincial Plazas and Indoor Markets. Where you’d trip over sacks of peanuts and broken biscuits to bag the Flintstones snow washed jeans or pseudo ‘ski’ jacket you’d saved so hard for. No? Nobody else then?
Ahem. Anyway, imagine being ‘Queen’ of that mall. When Salima and I we…
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