In a toga embellished with a big gold plait my mum must have either made or, more likely, taken from a particularly dodgy curtain.
On finding the evidence – a photograph of my whole year five class dressed in togas and centurion armour – my dad couldn’t actually pick me out. Or my twin sister. Which of course made things worse. (Even if we’re not identical).
More Roman Holiday than Roman-clad, it’ll be a little easier identifying one of us (me!) in this array of almost-offensively “bling” costume jewellery, discovered recently in my favourite high street shops and vintage caves.
Having not quite found my Hepburn ball gown yet, I’ve decided to teeter on the edge of the late, great Mrs Butcher instead.
(Well, it beats anymore of my mum’s curtain cast offs. Just.)