Some ballet shop in Marylebone has this special freak in the window.
Some ballet shop in Marylebone has this special freak in the window.
I really don’t think the picture does its vileness justice. It’s like something out of the Twilight Zone or the Rocky Horror Picture Show, as if a bowler-hatted civil servant returning from a performance of Swan Lake was waylaid one dark and stormy evening by an alluring ballet-dancer/waxwork fetishist and never seen again…
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