Can you imagine Jack writing her own image descriptions? They'd be interminable.
I, Jack Monroe, writer, author, writer, campaigner, former single mother on benefits, one-time food bank user, cook, famously non-binary, quasi-religious, accidental conqueror of my own fears, undiscovered singing talent, television presenter taking time off, inventor of #thunderclapforcarers, saviour of political prisoners stand in the kitchen of my shitty bungalow (which is RENTED) leaning up against a wooden worktop in a completely relaxed and not uncomfortable looking position. I, Jack Monroe, am wearing an outfit consisting of an impeccable but stained navy blue cable knit sweater with a blue formal shirt buttoned up to the neck underneath. I, Jack Monroe, am also wearing a light wash denim jacket with faux sheepskin collar and a pair of stone-coloured jeans. I, Jack Monroe, have completed my masculine aesthetic with a pair of very clean and stylish trainers. I, Jack Monroe, stare confidently into the lens as I (Jack Monroe) am finally feeling happy and content and like my true self after months of misery and suffering.