No hat or gloves

Hello dear followers (if there are any). My husband Percival insisted on taking me to see one of those foreign films the other day at one of those dark and musty art cinemas. It's the kind of place the lefties go to, and I would normally not be seen dead in one of those places. I am certain we should have dusted ourselves with flea powder before venturing inside, but Percy is not the most practical of men. I spent most of the two hours shifting around in my seat in the hope that any six legged creature would not consider me a tasty morsel.
But my biggest shock was that not a single woman there was wearing a hat or gloves.
Some of them were even wearing blue jeans and t-shirts. I was horrified at the slovenly way people dress these days.

Nobody came out to offer us tea and biscuits before the show and I thought that was very poor. If I had known that I would be spending at least two hours without a cup of tea, I would have brewed some in a thermos. To make matters worse, Percival spotted a woman he knew from the Green party and insisted she join us. I cannot understand how a woman in her sixties can think that long drab grey hair is attractive, especially when it is hangly limply over a very dirty looking kaftan. I was so embarrassed and spent most of the evening terrified that someone I knew from the Croquet club would spot me sitting next to this old hippie and I might not be invited to any more functions.

Well I must go and make sure the butler is not setting fire to the kitchen.
Yours ever faithfully
Lady O.