Is it me, or does everyone associate biker boots with the sort of hoi polloi that gives old ladies a kicking?
Always a trend-setter me... this old lady has decided to play them at their own game and don a pair of twinkle toed bovvers. You just would'nt believe the things I've bought on ebay; these for instance and much loved they are too.
Alright, alright I know at my age I should be clad in Crimplene, saggy stockings and slippers with bobbles and buttons. The spectre of the BIG pink knickers hovers in the wings waiting, waiting, weighting on my mind (see an earlier blog).
Out in the snow yesterday and today striding, stamping, snowboarding on winged bikers. How smug was I? I didn't once feel the need to kick a pimpled youth in the air.
On a more sedate note this is a Clothkits doll I've made for my granddaughter Hope
(see I can do granny things)
When my son asked me what I wanted to be called ie Granny, Nanny blah, blah, blah. I thought CRIKEY! I'M FAR TOO YOUNG TO BE GRANDMAMA! And anyway, who wants those ageing titles pinned on one, I ask you? I thought for a nano-second and decided I would be called Poppy. And there you have it! Puss-Poppy in biker boots.
Working away in my studio on Tuesday a neighbour called to ask me to make a shamrock badge for her son. He's playing a leprechaun in the school play. On the strength of this I fully expect Julian Fellowes to call any day soon to ask for my help with the costumes for the next series of Downton Abbey.