This photo, taken by a friend of mine Andrew Pegram, caught my eye.
A mannequin, of course she is. So heavily made up for what looks like a fancy shower cap. What is the story there?
There’s a look that to me suggests she is somewhat appalled to find herself in a small forgettable shop somewhere in a suburb of a London in this bizarre hat. Really she should have been there, centre stage in a Harrods window wearing a little designer something at an eye wateringly high sum. Or as she’d see it, something reassuringly expensive. How did the fall from grace come about ?
I look at her face and wonder if she is thinking about her lowly fate, the tragedy that led to such ignominy, drummed out of the Knightsbridge set and cast adrift in the far suburbs for an eternity. Or is she just thinking who is that grey haired old duck looking with such envy at my fabulous headpiece.
I’ll never know…