Another sure-fire attempt at playing polo there Verity? So I've got a roll-neck fetish. Shi* happens. Yet trust me to get down in the seasonal dumps once the good weather decides to grace our gloomy little isle.
No sleeves? Sleeve. Less. Sorry but I don't speak blue skies and bare arms.
Together with an incessant requirement to travel just where the sun don't shine and an even greater need to boast layers; I'm afraid for now this autumnal princess is setting the bar for the 'anti-tan' pretty damn high.
Some call it bizarre. Others say crazy. I like to call it pale and interesting.
At not a minute before daybreak today, this early bird not only caught a worm but also bagged herself the most sought after, butter-soft leather jacket since four punk rockers from NYC donned the Schott Perfecto way back when.
All I'm saying is... add that to the list of why it feels so damn good to be a morning person.
Now, excuse me whilst I introduce Kate to the rest of the gang.