One of them is turquoise. This is very much a colour I do not ordinarily wear. Ordinarily I wear black. And sometimes grey. Occasionally black and grey. But they didn't have my size in normal colours so I bought turquoise. I mean, it's summer. No one's looking at me anyway with the amount of tits and ass on display round these here parts.
I had absolutely no idea on the effect it would have on the octogenarians of York. Had I known I would have dressed from top to toe in turquoise every single day. It brings such joy.
Or maybe they're all drunk.
This morning I was traversing one of our beautiful bridges when an old man swayed in my general direction and appeared to be saying something. He kept repeating a word. It sounded like "spazzing". He was an ancient man dressed in the summer wardrobe of ancient men everywhere and seemed very happy with life.
I went closer and it turned out he didn't say anything about spazzes. What he said was: "You going jazzing in that dress? Are you? Eh? Eh?"
I really really hope he meant: "Are you going to dance to jazz like the ladies of the 20s because of your lovely dress mayhap?" and that it wasn't anything horrible.
I'm pretty sure it wasn't.
I choose to believe it wasn't.
And then on the way back from Waitrose this evening I was stopped by an ancient lady by the City Walls. She was walking an equally ancient looking dog. He was covered in the wartiness that old dogs are sometimes covered in. I thought he looked about 25. He was only 12 and very, very sweet. As was she.
Turns out she stopped me just to tell me that she thought my dress was beautiful and that she liked it very much. We then chatted about her dog: "He's such good company" and she commended me on my shopping bags (bags for life, natch) and I went on my way.
It was nice. And I am now going only wear turquoise so I can befriend the old people of York. Like a well dressed Pied Piper of Hamlin without the kiddie fetish.