A lush day out

So Tuesday I decide I need more photographs for backgrounds so off I troll to Covent Garden, nice summery frock and away I go. My goodness it is deserted, admittedly it is only 10 'ish but where is everybody? I troll round for about an hour and a half and wander over to Leicester Square for a sit down and watch the kids playing in the fountains. Its wonderful to watch their delight trying to escape getting wet until of course they get a little damp then it is a case of 'oh well in for a penny in for a pound' and they get themselves soaked on purpose. By now those fabulously comfortable Gabor sandals have raised a blister on my left big toe so its down to The Strand and into Superdrug for a plaster. I must have either got something trapped in there or as I found later a tiny bit of extra thread. Aaaanway as we all know once it gets bad enough to feel its too late. Freshly plastered I wander back to Charing Cross Road and think I'll be a bit naughty and dive into Byron's for lunch, a blue cheeseburger, fries and one of their vanilla shakes. Hardly any customers results in me getting far more attention than I deserve ;-).
Repast finished I'm off. Down to Charing Cross and catch a bus up to Oxford Street and a wander round Selfridges. As I'm examining a rather nice frock in Karen Millen I am accosted by a rather pretty young assistant and we get chatting about tattoo's and of course once she see the leg she just has to call over a rather nice young man. Go on show him she says to me. I don't flash my legs to any man you know I say. Well he says I noticed your legs just now, ooo sooo cheeky. So of course up comes the hem, well it would be rude not to. I take my leave and have a wander. A tour of the shoe department then up on the third floor where I see the most fabulous frock in Reiss, one that gets filed away for future reference. A tour of the designer fashion dept on the second floor results in me being accosted again. Goodness knows what label they were selling, very wierd and wonderful and black, we have a little chat and she says to me how she loves my necklace and asks where I got it. Zara I reply. No she says, well it must be the way your wear it. Now that is what I call a compliment !

Of course most of us have 'something' that calls attention to us, we may be tall, short, fat or thin but these things are with us all the time and we tend to forget them. So when I analyse what it is that causes people to stop and look I cannot say what it is. Of course I am a bloke in a frock but is that always why? I'm not exaclty in the first flush of youth but refuse be dowdy. I have tattoo's and in this weather they are plain for all to see. I have a tan that cannot be called anything else than dark so little wonder I get looked at and lets face it that is the name of my game. I don't want to hide in corners.

So there madame and I are wandering the west end the other day, a visit to Selfridges to show her the frocks in Karen Millen and Reiss and then down to dear old John Lewis for some haberdashery when she wants to pop over to Collectif in Spitalfields. So off we go. As we turn from Bishopsgate into Brushfield Street a slender young tall girl comes out of a building. It is obvious to me she is female even though she wearing a white shirt, tight black jeans and a rather nice pair of cream brogue shoes. I point out the shoes to madame as she has a panchant for them. When we have passed madame says to me, she was very male looking. Really I say. Very androgynyous she says, just like people think you look female.