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Liz Jones

LIZ JONES’S DIARY: In which I prepare to hit the road

‘Do you really want people to see your cellulite? You don’t even let me see it.’ This is David speaking. And it’s true, I don’t...

LIZ JONES’S DIARY: In which I want to be more Meghan

I sometimes wonder whether men believe they are allotted a finite number of words – and, therefore, in this modern age, texts – before...

LIZ JONES’S DIARY: In which I try to live in the moment

Oh dear. I have a brand new problem. I have Diet Face. In case you’re the sort of person who worries about real issues, let...

LIZ JONES’S DIARY: In which I put my life up for sale

Having dropped off my rescue collie Gracie at the referral clinic, screaming in pain but still weakly wagging, and been told by the surgeon...

LIZ JONES’S DIARY: In which I face an agonising wait

It all started two weeks ago. I was on my post-Newsnight walk with the three collies. Suddenly, Gracie crouched, whimpering. I examined her paws...

LIZ JONES’S DIARY: In which I reveal my biggest fear

It was the giant heading on this column last week that led me to today’s missive. The heading in question read: ‘In which I...

LIZ JONES’S DIARY: In which I finally get the chop

I’ve officially gone mad. On Friday afternoon, I had all my hair cut off. Let me explain. On Thursday, I was browsing the Vogue website...

LIZ JONES’S DIARY: In which David doesn’t pop the question

When David came to stay with me for my Birthday Weekend, I kept thinking my real present was going to materialise, but it never...

LIZ JONES’S DIARY: In which I want more, lots more

Has my generation been hoodwinked? Is our judgment fatally flawed by too many episodes of Sex and the City and too many romcoms? Has...

LIZ JONES’S DIARY: In which I make the first move

So, after spending the weekend with me, David left. When he got back to London, he sent this: ‘I had a lovely time. I’ve...

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