I think the Isle of Wight might be getting to me

Yesterday, I brought this fashion to the Isle of Wight.


Yes, that's a groundsheet, and I'm wearing it.

Of course my great fashion statement has a proper history. Me and Galliano. We both reference our work to cultural movements and historic moments.

Like, last Friday Shark and Squirrel packed their own bags, and I was too busy to check the contents.

First, I've been packing Tiger's bag for her PGL - attending to six pairs of this, three pairs of that, extra ones of the other and two pairs for wet and dry - and second, I would very much like Shark and Squirrel to live the consequences of their choices, suffer, and regret their actions.

Checklist Shark. She has brought for a cold and rainy British summertime: one cotton dress, one cotton top, two pairs of leggings, twelve books and a home made dolphin.

To her credit, Squirrel has brought a variety of clothing but, for the beautiful weather, of which there isn't any, one fancy stitch flimsy pink glitter cardigan. And no coat.

My fashion moment might just turn the course of Isle of Wight history. But I do not recommend making children responsible for their own packing. It is a crap idea, because it is mother who suffers in the end.

With clouds scudding this way and that and a will-they-won't-they? approach to rain, today I donate my woolly jumper to Squirrel and a waterproof coat to Shark, with the result that I face a future mostly freezing and wet. There is only the groundsheet left. So be nice and help me along. Call it fashionable. If Kate Moss walked down King's Road in it, you'd all be calling them rain bags and everyone would want one.

Now with Grit dressed like an abandoned tent, and two kids attired in clothing that can best be described as offering plenty of growing room, we start out on a full day of education.

We begin in Yarmouth Castle, which bears this fantastic sign:


but which also teaches us a great deal about shipwrecks in the harbour, and the history of castle design from Medieval status symbol to Tudor garrison for soldiers.


Then it's over to Shark's choice at Fort Victoria which is the Underwater Archaeology Centre and the Marine Aquarium where we snap blurred photographs of baby cuttlefish while everyone sighs aaah.


Not to waste a moment we make for the tiny planetarium and the Robert Hooke exhibition, which fires Grit up to educate everyone about how even eminent seventeenth century scientists can argue like two year olds.

Which is not what happens on the beach at Yaverland this evening, walking there spotting gatekeeper butterflies, bramble blackberries, mallows and thistles, then hunting for fossils, and making sand castles, and where, after a mostly splendid educational day out with only a small amount of rain to show off my new fashion garb, I am indulgent, even of Dolly.


I think I might be liking the Isle of Wight.