This week I have the first UK interviews for the book, leading to a predictable fashion emergency. My agent said that I should wear my lucky dress (even for phone interviews). Iain seconded the vote for that dress, or anything with cleavage:
I was still dithering but Mark Mitchell said Wear a dress you silly lady. They are your trademark.
Since he has mighty style powers I followed his advice, pulling out the green dress Sheila chose for me last summer:
Why I need a committee to organize an outfit is a mystery, and also a new phenomenon. I’ve never allowed anyone to influence my costume choices, let alone shop with me, fuss over me in a dressing room, or select my wardrobe. My mother reports I never even let her choose my clothes as an infant.