… to Westfield to see the new Star Trek fillum. Which was an absolute hoot. There was a tribble! There was a passing reference to Nurse Chappell! There was Leonard Nimoy! And Benedict Cumberbatch, (who I have seen on stage, bitches, pre-Sherlock), was the baddest badass, like, ever. In other words a Good Time was had.
I was sorely tempted to wear a thrifted bronze lurex outfit in which I was once told I resembled a Romulan attending a formal on the Starship Enterprise.
(Oh, alright. If you insist.
I think I look more Vulcan to be honest. Or possibly one of the aliens from Galaxy Quest).
Anyway, instead, I wore lots of pink.
Who says a Trekkie can’t rock florals?
I’ll have you know I never venture into an unexplored galaxy without my faithful copy of Conversational Klingon in my bag. (Can I just talk about the bag? I don’t often fork out serious dosh on one. In fact I’m the furthest thing from a bag snob it’s possible to be. Oh, I care what my bags look like naturally, I just don’t understand why anyone would spend thousands, or even hundreds, on one when there are so many perfectly adorable bags to be had for considerably less in charity shops, T.K.Maxx, designers’ sample sales and/or Accessorize. The most I’ve ever dropped on a bag is £70 – once on my sample sale Orla Kiely, and once on this butter-soft printed leather Liberty job via T.K.Maxx. A case in point as it started life at £650. It’s lovely but for that kind of money I’d expect a night in Claridges with Josh Holloway and a bottle of massage oil, heavy on the ylang ylang thanks very much). Just kidding about the Conversational Klingon, by the way.