Bolder and blonder she goes...

If you leave me unattended in Buddleigh Salterton on a wet and chilly summer's day for three hours because you have to visit an elderly client, what do you expect? I could have burnt through a lot more than the five Charity shops. I could have emptied the dress shop, or the tea shops. Instead I ended up with two small handbags.
I wasn't really looking for a fulsome response from Dearest, who, in all fairness, is not big on beading. Yes, beading. Intricate fine beadwork.  I'm not sure that I was, until I saw this very cute little bag. Brand new it was too. ("Because someone bought it, and thought it was a disaster, Mum". Or the other comment I liked was, "It's bringing out your inner Drag.." as in -Queen, I suppose.)
I gave it a road trip today. It is big enough to carry phone, purse, glasses and keys. I was going to the hairdressers.
Jodie thought it looked, "Different". I recognise code. My mother used to say that something was Unusual, if she wanted to avoid hurt, rather than, Bloody awful..

But Gustav embraced it with all the gusto that I desired.
"It should, of course, be worn like this. More of a clutch-bag," he said, modelling it, with his usual savoir-flair.
I was using it as a small handbag, not as a clutch-bag.

So there we are. The style-police are giving it a big thumbs-down. But I shall continue to use it, just the way I intended, because I love it.
If I sound a little defiant, it might just be because I am getting bolder. And just a little bit blonder...