There is a playlist of songs that makes want to be wearing a pink puff ball dress with a perm (jerry curl that has dried all kinds of wrong) with lace gloves doing something blasphemous so I get excommunicated by the pope. My number one changes all the time, but for sheer joy today it just happens to be The Smiths' This Charming Man. The fact that I have on occasion refused to leave my house due to wardrobe malfunctions has nothing to do with it. Nothing at all. Nowt.