Gentlemen Prefer Boring Outfits in the Park

Small boy:  Miss Hamer, Miss Hamer, it's my birthday today!

Me:  It's my little sister's birthday too!
Small boy:  I'm seven!  How old is your little sister?
Me:  She's twenty-two.

Small boy:  No way!

Happy birthday Stephieann!

As I probably mentioned once or thrice, last week I was treading the boards. (It went very well, thank you.  Stay tuned for the inevitable 'I was in a play' post sooner or later)  Show week coincided with half-term, which meant that I was able to spend the entire week doing lovely things (and by 'doing lovely things' I mean 'staying in the pub until closing time every night') with my thespian friends.  I'm firmly of the opinion that if I wear flowers in my hair that means it IS summer, so my pal Hannah and I prepared for opening night by going for a stroll through the park.

 

What's that I spy looming on the horizon?  Why, it's HMS Pinafore!


My dress is from Primark, my jacket is from Oasis, my scarf is from H&M and my boots are so knackered that I almost left them to achieve immortality in the Shoe Tree...


Don't do it, Bette!  You'll have to walk home barefoot!

I found it slightly amusing that no fewer than four people texted me this morning, full of concern, to inform me that Jane Russell had died.  I love that I'm the first thing people think of when they hear that olden-days movie stars have snuffed it.  Poor dead, beautiful Jane. 

This picture's my absolute, total favourite.

Dazzling, wasn't she?