The show must go on

While I retired to my boudoir, sick as a dog (feathers and chucking up do not make for a happy combination), the Sparkly Bra Pixie and the Voluptuous Jules went off to wow one of our local WI groups. And, oh my, did they melt for it! The two of them sashayed forth from Burlicious Towers all fresh and saucy and sassy and came back a couple of hours later, limp-feathered, rosy-cheeked and beaded with sweat.

Ah, but it was worth it. The evening progressed in the way that these things so often do: polite and slightly uncertain applause for our first routine; a bit of whooping and catcalling in the second; positive foot-tapping for the third and then a rush for the boas when the crowd was invited to feather up and get involved.

After that, it's the kind of mayhem that we love best - a big crowd of women, all shaking their groove thang and having an absolute hoot, as temperatures soared and inhibitions fell away.

Even now I'm smiling at the juxtaposition of the Sparkly Bra Pixie shouting "bum!" and "tits!" as instructions and then everyone finishing off the evening sedately with Jerusalem and tea and cupcakes. It's this kind of gentle battiness that is England at its very best.

Yours, looking forward to seeing some of you WI converts at class when we re-open in September!

Burlicious x