A travel and style blog

And That's A Wrap...Dress

Why do I look like I've just found out that Cedric's been at it again with the parlour maid? I promise that was unintentional, and, I promise that I'm not stood next to an urn. Or at least I hope not.

I've been looking forward to sharing my new Saturday night number with you since, well, Saturday night. My polka dotted, frilled, red wrap dress of dreams (may Johnathon Ross never have to read that aloud).

Too Soon To Say Goodbye ... To Tights

I got up ridiculously early, for a Saturday, so that I could pose outside the Empire Services Club without anyone thinking a) what the chuff is she doing and b) where in Gods name are her tights? The early bird catches the worm and all that. 

It was therefore disappointing to arrive at said Services Club to find a) a coach parked up and b) more people passing through Hartington Road than you'd expect in the early hours on a Saturday morning. I was tempted to sack off the "shoot" (if pleading with your fiancĂ© to take photos of you classes as a shoot), but, it seemed a shame to let my first bare legged outing of 2018 be ruined by fears that Lancashire isn't ready for wannabe style bloggers prancing about it's streets.

How I Travel With A Fear of Flying

Sandy beach in summer

Disclosure: When I say fear of flying, for me personally, it's more a fear of being trapped in a large tube with a number of strangers, no fresh air and the inability to get out if I want to.

Flying never used to bother me. I used to find it exciting, part of the holiday in a way. I don't know why things changed along the way but, it's safe to say it bothers me now. 

Maybe it just came with getting (ahem a little bit) older, or maybe its the after effect of a lingering stressful situation, back in yonder year, that threw my fight and flight out of whack? Anyone else conduct their own psychoanalysis? 

Whatever the reason, when I've flown in recent years, I've found myself ruminating on the thought, "If I want to get out of this plane I can't!" Cue dry mouth, palpitations and my next thought, "Is it too late to get off?"

Listen Very Carefully ... I'm Keen On These Striped Trousers

Good Moaning!

One of the best things about blogging is the endless possibilities of where it might take you. Well this weekend my blog took me to France a park in Preston, followed by a quiet room at home where I tried to think of as many references to Allo Allo as I could. 
I know, I know, she wears a Beret and starts making crude references to France. It's very clichĂ©, but I couldn't resist(ance). 

*accordion plays
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