My fantasy of channelling a 1970s action film heroine went up in smoke when the first words Jon uttered when I clomped downstairs in my vintage safari suit were Oooooh, very Roger Moore.
But being compared to the worst ever James Bond didn't deter me as I strutted my stuff down the avenue, my bastard massive flares flapping in the breeze, much to the amusement of the carers from the nearby nursing home taking a lunchtime stroll.
Come to think of it I can think of worse comparisons than to Roger. Neither of us are adverse to a spot of sunbathing.
|Yesterday afternoon, I'm wearing a crochet bikini, hand made for me by my talented mates, Create Some Time|
Or a bit of canoodling with a good looking actor,
|At Moseley Vintage Fair on Sunday, the very lovely Cameron is a friend.|
and we're both rather fond of a classic car.
|That's Ebbie, our 1970 VW Variant.|
That's his favourite jacket.
|Vintage Bronson of California trouser suit (bought for a song on eBay), 1960s Alfred Tricker Crafts stainless steel choker (car boot sale)|
See you soon.