My love of instagram feels a bit like my guilty secret.
I feel slightly embarrassed when Hugh catches me slouched on the sofa glued to my phone looking at pictures of... well, other peoples lives.
And it always feels a bit sad when I'm sitting in bed on my phone (again) before going to sleep... I should be reading great literature, but no, I'm just checking out photos of other peoples lives again. Pictures that mainly seem to feature cats and food.
My stickygrams however are baring all on display. Magnet versions of my photos. Nothing could be more up my street right now.
Incidentally, one of my instagram photos was used to illustrate an article on Why Is Instagram So Addictive, and I only found out about it because Jamie Oliver did a sort of re-intagram of the photo (my photo!) and I follow Jamie Oliver; one guilty secrect is revealed and they all come flooding out... It's the photo at the top/middle of Coco and her pal in pajamas and bug masks. Quite a good example of why instagram is addictive, even if I say so myself!
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