The Lion, the Bitch and the Wardrobe

Yesterday evening I found myself at a dinner where, armed with a bag of deceptively Mary Poppins-esque volume, and a bottle of wine which turned out to taste like vodka laced with grape juice, I formally received the title of "Wardrobe".

"Wardrobe Director", I admit, had been hoped for (by me); "Wardrobe Bitch" had been proposed (not by me); "Wardrobe" had been decided upon. Afterwards I cornered the Treasurer in the rickety blue old bar, and hinted that the budget might stretch to a sewing machine, along with a Lion and a Witch to keep me company (though I did concede that I could fulfil all three roles if necessary).

Naturally, people did wonder if
a) I could make them a dragon outfit, and
b) if it was anatomically possible to transport people to Narnia.
Wonderful.

To prove that I am not a completely useless Wardrobe already, I've unearthed a couple of a/w 1934 fashion plates lurking in the back of my real wardrobe back at home. Isn't 1934 elegant! Women were women again after the 1920s and the lines were simple, clean and tailored.