There's a shop...

..on Clapham High Street called Grand Passion.

Now it's not the sort of place I would frequent, being a bloke and all, but it doesn't stop me looking in the window. It sells girly things - Quiet back there in the cheap seats - not rude I hasten to add, just girly.

Now I can't imagine anyone buying it, much less wearing it, but in the window there is an ensemble which I can only suggest is a pun made manifest. Yes, that's what it is. It is what can only be described as a wicker basque with a skirt of hazel twigs hanging from it (honestly, folks, it's true). There is a fluorescent pink feather boa draped over it. I could imagine a young Kate Bush wearing it, and now I come to think on it, I can imagine a number of ladies of my acquaintance buying and wearing something similar.

Blimey, where's me heart pills...?

There's a shop...

..on Clapham High Street called Grand Passion.

Now it's not the sort of place I would frequent, being a bloke and all, but it doesn't stop me looking in the window. It sells girly things - Quiet back there in the cheap seats - not rude I hasten to add, just girly.

Now I can't imagine anyone buying it, much less wearing it, but in the window there is an ensemble which I can only suggest is a pun made manifest. Yes, that's what it is. It is what can only be described as a wicker basque with a skirt of hazel twigs hanging from it (honestly, folks, it's true). There is a fluorescent pink feather boa draped over it. I could imagine a young Kate Bush wearing it, and now I come to think on it, I can imagine a number of ladies of my acquaintance buying and wearing something similar.

Blimey, where's me heart pills...?