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prada d iris perfume ordered thousands of our pigs. Well, there are plenty more where they came from, and a lot of them are wearing pin striped suits.At long last, I've become Gadget GirlEarlier this week, I wrote about Britain's wasted talent. It's now clear that, to quote a man whose talents are extremely well hidden, I misunderestimated it. Britain isn't just talented, it's exploding with technological genius. How do I know this? Because practically everyone I see is clutching an iPhone.Finally conceding that it might be a good idea to have access to the internet on the rare occasions one wasn't actually shackled to one's laptop, I decided that the time had come to swap the mobile that bush dwelling Zambians sneered at for something a little sleeker. And after credit checks geared more towards a Great Train Robber than a woman who has meekly paid a lifetime's bills on time, I was handed the little box that would, I thought, make me modern.But being modern, I now see, means being born with some telepathic instinct that tells you, when no leaflet does, that you have to uncurl a paper clip and do some Freudian thing with a hole, and release some secret shutter that was entirely invisible until you, in desperation, Googled a diagram, and it means somehow knowing that when something on the screen is tiny then opening your fingers like a crab will make it bigger, and it means that you can tap away with a thumbnail on a keyboard the size of the carved ivory miniatures popular in the Middle Ages, and what appears will not be in Serbo Croat but in intelligible English, and it means remembering all kinds of passwords and typing them in without watching them evaporate before your eyes.I could practically have brought up a child on the care I've lavished on this ghastly gadget this week. I only hope parenthood is more rewarding.The very model of a Scandinavian monarchIt was a big moment in the Patterson household when King Carl Gustaf of Sweden married a woman called Silvia Sommerlath. My mother took us all up to the Swedish church in London to watch the wedding on a big colour telly and to eat slices of Swedish cake. Queen Silvia looked, we thought, a bit like our Auntie Lisbeth. King Carl Gustaf