Me father (said in an Irish accent)

Day 47:

Black mules from banana republic 

Merry Christmas Eve. Or happy it's Father Christmas Day. Either way Christmas is at the door and what better way to celebrate than with a pair of banana republic mules. I'm wearing these with a vintage pearl top (photos to follow) and a glass of whatever is alcoholic. 

This entry goes to my wonderful Dad Peter who as I was growing up looked as Christmas Eve in two different ways:

Christmas 1986/7: Walthamstow, East London:

Father Christmas enters the living room

Me: Wow, It's Father Christmas 

What seems like a lifetime later:

Peter Knightley enters the living room 

Me: Daddy, Daddy. Father Christmas had your boots on. 

My Dad: Wow, well he better give them back. 

Some years later and oh how things changed:

Ashampstead, Berkshire. 1992 (circa):

Me: Dad can I leave some sherry for Father Christmas? 

My Dad: it'll be a waste, you know I don't drink. 

Hmmppph: Bar humbug Mr Knightley. 

Either either, my Dad is the only father I need so with that Happy Christmas Eve to one and all.