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.