This could get boring. Me telling you what I'm wearing. But for now we will press on. Today, being a normal day (or what passes for normal when you are a freelance writer married to a cathedral canon living in Barchester) I am wearing normal clothes (see brackets above).
I'm going with a kind of liquorice allsorts colour scheme: black and pink. Black leggings (from the New Life Charity Warehouse on Hemlock Way, Cannock), fine knit silk/wool jumper (TKMaxx) and big candy pink cardigan/coat thingy with a hood and huge pink buttons (CS) and a different pair of black boots from my extensive black boot collection (motto: you can't have too many pairs of black boots). Today's pair were actually bought new in the scrag end of last year's winter Sale somewhere on Oxford Street (Nine West, £55). I am also wearing a pink necklace.
Yes, yes, I know this is a heinous fashion crime, being all matchy-matchy. But bear in mind that my fashion sense was formed in the early 80s. I cannot easily rid myself of the notion that it's cool and clever to look sartorially coordinated--rather than as though you'd engaged in a blindfold rummage in the dressing-up box. I realise I should probably go and swap my black boots for brown and put on a green hat. But bollocks to that. In ten years time the big wheel of fashion will have turned, and all those people who renounced colour-coordinated outfits will look back on the photos of themselves in plaid skirts teamed with floral blouses and howl 'What was I thinking?!' Yes, I'm playing the fashion long game. Plus pink goes with my kitchen.
About this blog
This is a window into the weird world of Anglicanism, as experienced on a Cathedral Close. Has anything much happened since Trollope's Barchester Chronicles? You will still see the 'canon in residence' hurrying across to choral Evensong, robes flapping, as the late bell chimes. But look carefully and you will notice he is checking the football score on his iPhone as he runs. This is also a writer's blog. It charts the agony and ecstasy of the novelist's life. And it's a fighter's blog. It charts the agony and ecstasy of the judo mat. Well, the agony, anyway.