I associate certain inanimate objects with certain animate objects and for this reason (and a million others), I will never, ever be able to single out just one item of clothing as my most prized.
Sometimes Ruth and I work really hard - proper back-aching, sweat-making, ass-breaking hard...And then there are those days when we sit around and paint each other's nails.
I had to go all the way to London to get my mitts on this miracle potion by Barry M (don't worry, there were other reasons for my trip - Kelly Brook wasn't going to stare at herself, now was she?), which creates a kind of beat-up graffiti effect on your paws.
I then surprised no-one by trying my hand at some animal patterns and Ruth was happy to play fucked-up zebra to my cheetah.
If I get a little insane about clothes from time to time, it's probably because there's a genuine lifelong love behind it. Certain pictures were blowing my unspoilt little brain before I could walk, and Lucille Ball darting around her tiny greyscale apartment in a rhinestone encrusted housecoat was one of these images.
I've wanted that housecoat for nigh-on two decades - since the day I first got it into my curly little head and every couple of years since, when I revisited the show for a '50s overdose. Last year, my friend Karen (who's been known to pull a hair-brained scheme of her own in her time) presented me with a book of I Love Lucy paper dolls, which I've been playing with ever since.
Obviously that particular rhinestone cowboy can never be mine, but when I tried on a rather rigid vintage lace dress in Wild Child one afternoon, it practically begged me to take it home and slash it! I took a scissors to it and poof! - she was ready to layer over pants, skirts and dresses.
One day I will replicate every headscarf, pantsuit and potato sack in Lucy's part functional, part eccentric wardrobe, but for now, this mangled find will see me through a zany shenanigan or two.
Inhabitants of the city of Dublin will already be aware of my obsession with the canine species - many's the dog owner who's caught me perving off their pooch of a Sunday's eve...
I'm desperate for one of my own, but location, lifestyle and my tendancy to be a complete sham of a human being don't really allow it. If my goldfish Ginger makes it to her third birthday, maybe then I'll think about introducing a wee mutt into my family. For now, I'll continue to whore myself around for dogsitting duties and secretly hope someone lands a little flea bag in my lap.
I only kinda sorta coordinate with Minnie and Medjie in these shots (does two tone hair count?), but for a masterclass in doggie uniformity, look no further than the character of Nadine Hale in Easter Parade, played by the irrepressible Ann Miller, who I conveniently bigged up in this post earlier today!
Today I'm bigging up Ann Miller - the woman with the fastest feet in Hollywood.
She knew how to wear clothes, she loved the company of gentlemen, she danced well into her 50s, had ginormous hair, and was a consummate glamourpuss right 'til the end.