This photo selfie amused me no end yesterday.
It's a photo of two strangers who met on a flight to Scotland when they found themselves booked in adjoining seats.
Two ginger haired, bearded hipsters that could have passed for twins.
What are the chances of that?
I like the " hipster" look
I'm far too old for it...and anyway skinny pants would be a fashion faux pax in our house..what with my Beyonce arse and fat thighs.
The other morning, I mused that if I had ever followed a trend in my youth, then in hindsight I would have followed the hipster route rather than the monstrosities that I found myself wearing in the 1980s.
From 1983 I once wore a blue mottled round necked jumper continuously until 1985....and I only stopped when the bloody thing literally fell apart.
I was never blessed with any fashion sense.....my sister inherited my share.
When I ambled around Byron Street, daydreaming what it would be like having a neat, perfectly combed haircut, a sculptured beard and trendy duds, a fantasy that was broken when I spied Bethan Jones who was decorating her hallway.
We chatted about wallpaper for a bit and it was only when I walked off, did I realise that my pyjamas were sticking out from under my combat trousers and there was a load of dried egg crusting up my goatee.