Nothing like a dame

Since much of the past month has been so soul-destroying (the deceits of UK electioneering; the yo-yoing of my mother between home, care home and home; the worst 60th birthday ever), I have little of interest to share other than my hours of Dickensian stitch work.

You are therefore invited to enjoy this snap of my partner wearing a fully-lined dinosaur print coat plus matching hat and bag, which is my contribution to his annual dame wardrobe (2019 = Folkestone Leas Cliff’s Snow White). Who’d have guessed he was a slim-hipped female size 4X once he got those manky jeans off?

The beard will not be removed until the last possible moment (show starts 13 December), so some may find the apparent elision of genders disconcerting. I find it rather cute. Happy thigh-slapping Christmas.