Tuesday, 22 November 2011

Mr And Mrs Lastic And Their Daughter Lucy

…some late arrivals at the Haberdashers’ Ball [ aficionados of I’m Sorry I Haven’t A Clue will understand]

Look at this…


This is not a piece of vintage punchtape from the Wartime Colossus Machine at Bletchley Park. That looks like this

colossus tape

No, the picture at the top shows what happens when you wash a piece of vintage elastic from the Great Stash. All the rubber perishes and disintegrates, leaving much holey-ness and no elasticity whatsoever!


Unfortunately, in a moment of over-zealous thriftiness, it was this elastic I had inserted into the waistband of Bob’s new Boden-esque pyjamas. I suspect the elastic may be even older than the Colossus tape.

Sometimes a girl’s frugality can stretch a little too far. You will be pleased to know that I have replaced the elastic with new stuff now. The Pastor’s Pyjamas are much more secure!



Typing Pastor’s Pyjamas reminds me of that bizarre book by Thorne Smith called The Bishop’s Jaegers, about which I remember nothing other than that the Bishop got entangled with a girl called Aspirin Liz.

[Jaegers are long woollen undergarments. We do not possess any of those in this house. I suspect they are for Anglican clergy only]


  1. Trust me, Angela...I have no intention of asking the vicar what he wears!!
    Jane x

  2. Would you like me to ask our Anglican vicar about this?!


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