Saturday 19th November 1949

Dear Diary,

Gee whiz! The boutique was astonishingly busy for a Saturday morning.  I think I must have sold every scrap of red material in the shop!  Several young ladies had formed a queue each asking for anything red in stock, dresses, scarves, hats or accessories.  Doreen and I considered this flurry of customers as a most peculiar occurrence, but as the day unfolded all became delightfully clear.

Mr. Fitzpatrick, the proprietor of the Winkle Picker nightclub has a nephew by the name of William.   He appeared at the salon just before we closed, with a red face and panting as if he had run all the way.  After taking a moment to catch his breath, William explained that the headline act for tonight’s show had cancelled and I was required to perform for the “Fire Cracker Show”.  The dress code for ladies is strictly RED.  How bizarre!  I was thrilled for another chance to sing, but horrified when I realized that there was simply nothing in red left to wear!   Thank goodness for Doreen, who very graciously lent me her red Ella Dress and selected gloves and a cute beret to accessorize in black. 

The Winkle Picker Club certainly observed a strict dress code and only allowed ladies wearing red to enter.  How extraordinary it was to see every girl wearing a red dress!  I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself when I recognized several faces from the queue at the boutique!  There’s something so magically sensual about a fantastically figure hugging red dress.  Yet remarkable to see so many appear at one function, decidedly daring!  I say!  The War is most definitely over!

Wednesday, 9th November 1949

Dear Diary,

Today I learned that there’s no such thing as bad publicity.  Since my brief dalliance with the escaped convict and con man Lord Anthony Parker Bowles (I’m not even sure if this is his real name) the salon and boutique has been extraordinarily busy. 

The London Evening Standard printed a mug shot of “Lord” Anthony and revealed the shocking story of a string of armed bank robberies and burglaries of stately homes.  No wonder he could afford to wine and dine me at The Ritz!  Thankfully my name was not mentioned in the newspapers, but the gossips have certainly associated my business premises with the capture of this notorious criminal.  The nosey parkers have come flocking to my door!  Happily, I have sold a record number of nylon stockings today and my appointment book is full up from now until Christmas.

Having to make a statement at the police station was the most troublesome aspect of this whole sorry business.  Of course the police couldn’t implicate me in connection with any of the robberies, although the charming rose necklace gift has been confiscated as evidence.  Apparently it was stolen from the Duchess of Cornwall!

Anne-Marie suggested that we to go to the cinema to take my mind off things.  We arrived in the front stalls rather early so we took the opportunity to reflect on the gossip before the film started.  As we were sitting alone in the movie theatre, Anne-Marie dared to confess that she has developed a serious crush on Dan the Projectionist who we had met in The Winkle Picker Club some weeks ago.  She was mortified when I reminded her that Dan could very well be listening from the projection room tonight!