During last year's Chelsea Flower Show, the invasion of floral ladies into the neighbourhood annoyed me to no end. Thousands of metres of printed viscose seated at my favourite restaurants in Sloane Square, swarming my tube station and monopolising my cabs.
From a fashion point of view, I wondered why we are all looking exactly the same at a certain age. I had plenty of flowing colourful polyester myself, but after encountering so many women looking so much like everyone else, I embarked on a ruthless spring clean this year.
I was feeling majorly judgmental.
Then last week I had the pleasure of experiencing Jodie Comer's performance in Prima Facie, her one-woman play at the Harold Pinter Theatre. The tickets are all sold out, but there is a line for people seeking unused tickets, so it may still be worth trying if you want to see it.
It's all about judgments. Assumptions, prejudices, dismissals.
Jodie's barrister character is clever and strong and successful, but when confronted with sexual assault by a friend, her anguish has nowhere to hide.
I took the train home after the play and walked a short cut to my house. It was dark and unsettlingly quiet. I froze for a second wondering if I should walk the long way home. But suddenly I heard chatter and laughter - a group of floral viscose dresses with cheerful red cheeks from corner pub wine twittering in my direction. Of course... the Chelsea Flower show had kicked off again.
One of the ladies in front seemed to notice my moment of doubt, and gave me a comforting smile. I was so grateful for their presence, and immediately all my horrible judgment washed away.
It's kindness that makes a person beautiful, and style simply has nothing to do with that at all.
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