I love you Pinky…

Never again will I take movement for granted. About ten days ago, while I was running around preparing to meet up with the gorgeous Laurakitty and then doll myself up for the preview of the new Biba exhibition at Brighton Museum, I managed to ram my foot into my ever-present suitcase. Hard. So hard, in fact, that my pinky toe on my left foot was newly positioned at a right angle.

Of course I could have concocted a taller, more glamorous story about how I had tripped over the hem of my Ossie Clark dress (you know I run around in them all day, right?) or had tumbled from the stratospheric heights of my Terry de Havilland shoes (same as the Ossies, always in them…always…). Sadly, I was barefoot and the reality was painful and distinctly unglamorous. I managed to reset it myself (not quite sure how, I just moved it, not painful until the shock wore off…) and have been flat-bound and hobbling like a hobbly thing ever since. I have been told four to six weeks recovery time, in which I am unable to wear any of my nice shoes and have to keep pinky strapped up to its neighbour. There ensued much swearing and sulking when I realised that Biba (and, a few days later, the Festival of Vintage in Epsom) was definitely out of the question.

Unlike Tara, I have not been fighting thugs and solving crimes from the sofa. But I have been posed rather like this most of the time…

Sympathy (and tea and biscuits) are always welcome, but I mainly wanted to explain my slight absence from the blogging thing. I have been going stir crazy with boredom, but blogging seemed to be the last thing on my mind. Hard to get too excited about frocks and other fripperies when you are banished to the land of trainers and a very strange new walking style.

I am now just about able to get up the stairs to the studio, so slowness in frock dispatchery should be reduced. And there are some fine, fine things to be seen. New listings include Biba jackets, John Bates dresses and Yves Saint Laurent shoes, amongst many other things.