Supermodels may not get out of bed for less than $10,000 a day, but personally I refuse to go to work unless someone gives me a pair of leopardskin booties...


The label says they're leather, but I know genuine cat hide when I see it. If she wasn't asleep, I'd be singing 'Tiger Feet' to her.

Anyhoo, it was worth returning to work today. I noticed a number of changes, most notably the fact that the computers now feature a lovely NHS screensaver telling us to wash our hands to avoid the spread of infection. To be honest, the only infection I'm likely to spread is food poisoning from a dodgy flapjack, but I appreciate the advice.

The highlight of my day, however, was undoubtedly the moment when people started giving me stuff. I knew those twelve hours of labour would pay off in the end. We've never been so rich. The leather shoes were an obvious high point, especially as they've been designed with Amelie in mind. The front of the pack says '0-6 months', while the back says "safe skid-resistant soles", so they're obviously aimed at child prodigies who can walk before they start teething. We'll have her running down the shops by Christmas.

As it happens though, the booties didn't come directly from the people I work with. They came from a colleague's partner. Amelie's ability to extract gifts from people knows no bounds. As for my workmates, they clubbed together and presented me with a £40 Mothercare voucher. They're obviously a lot more savvy than Lisa's colleagues, who made the mistake of giving her vouchers for Baby Gap. Vouchers which are also valid on Gap clothes for adults. While I'm forced to stock up on baby products, Lisa's got her eye on a new outfit.