Darlings! So here we are again! Delightful!
Let's go!

A big dose of the claps
for Tiny Wallop!

If you’re loitering about the dingy alleyways around London’s Aldgate East station, looking for trouble on January 17th or 22nd 2010, you could do worse than barge mob-handed down Grace’s Alley, just off Ensign Street, to catch a sight of something thrilling for a tenner.

Not the traditional back-alley tenner’s worth, but rather a large dose of the Tiny Wallops: in true Dr Who stylee, this time-warp alleyway contains the last vestiges of dirty old Victorian London – but only on special days. The ones when the moon is in just the right position.

For here are the big, faded doors of Wilton’s Music Hall; the most magical venue in all Christendom; a place where all manner of quality entertainments are staged, with all profits contributing to the effort to stabilise and restore this precious old auditorium – built in 1858, Grade 2* listed, and the oldest surviving music hall on the planet.

I had the wriggly soft pleasure of bouncing in for the Wallops’ Musical Extravaganza just before Christmas. The posted bawdy entertainment proved both bawdy and entertaining – and in the context of the wonderful Wilton’s, nothing short of magic hung in the air as Mme Jojo (Wallops’ mastermind Jo Bowis), Miss Mini Fanny (Abby Forknall), Mr Morning Glory (Ben Giubarelli), and eponymous troupe boss Mr Tiny Wallop (John Bowden) showed off their underclothing, sang their little hearts out, and generally seduced the audience with their own peculiar brand of filthy Victorian showmanship.

Audience participation is very much the thing round these parts, and Katherine Rhodes as the magician got us all warmed up very nicely with her classy show. It really didn’t matter that the mind-reading act plainly fell victim to the inevitable jeopardy of audience members having ventured out in their very finest lead-lined hats.

Quick trip to the bar for a stiffener (as if any were needed!), and the Wallops proper were on. In natty tatters of Victorian finery, the company thrilled us with their cheeky humour and rattled their very uvulas in pouring out a cacophony of melodious song. The plot was a bit thin on the ground, but that was hardly the point – this was a whirlwind of petticoats, combined with assured performances, audience embarrassment all over the place, some super shagging gags, and a proper spectacle of music and daftness in the old style. And Ada Kan as Fingers McFee at the piano held the whole concoction together beautifully, like the egg in a posset – and gave the songs some real oomph (Technical word, that; and one sadly overlooked by the sniffy modern breed of critic, if you ask me).

In and out of the bar we went throughout the evening, and the mulled wine slipped down very smoothly, thank you very much. In fact, the quality of the entertainment was a fair old match for the quality of this poky and piping, unadulterated brew. I didn’t feel the cold on the way home, and that’s a fact …

Catch the remaining performances of this season if you can:

Sunday 17th January and Friday 22nd January
Tiny Wallop’s Phantasmagorical Extravaganza

Sunday 14th February
Tiny Wallop’s Massive Little Big Top Extravaganza

Tickets £10 from Wilton’s Box Office, on 020 7702 2789, and at www.wiltons.org

Pick your fights carefully!

Young Johnny up the plum-tree: well, I have to tell you, reader, that the width of his trouser-leg caused quite a stir among the ladies massed about the foot of his mighty ladder.

The problem was, my dears, that he was having a bit of a battle with his basket – and so he's now set me to work to track down the perfect picking companion well in advance of the coming growing year.

What I've found is this delightful vintage-style basket from www.claireleavey.com. Designed in Holland some several hundred years ago, perhaps the most important feature is that its tall, narrow profile means that it can be slipped between the branches with ease.

It has a stout rope attached to the handle, with a strong hook made from a forked branch. You hang the basket in
the tree using this, and so leave your hands free for
picking fruit.

The handle has a steel wire reinforcement
running through it,
so the delicate
look of the basket shouldn't prevent you from filling it right to the brim with gorgeous home-grown organic fruit.

… and then bringing it back down the ladder to hand over to Mistress Norah, eh Johnny?

Picking basket £20, plus £3.50 packing and postage.

An absolute snip

I have no clue why anyone would want to handle a gardening implement for goodness' sake – just think of the threat to one's manicure!

But young Johnny gets so tremendously excited about this arcane gadgetry, and so he's pressing me to tell you about another toy he's acquired for his muddy cage: these very fine stainless-steel shepherd's hand shears.

Lightweight, manoeuvrable, easy to operate, and
lending themselves to the practice of a certain art, our chap informs me that they are simply the ideal
tool for trimming soft new
topiary growth, for cutting
back and trimming lavender, and for general tidying in the herb garden.

Strange boy.

Stainless-steel hand shears
£15 plus £3.50 p&p, from
www.claireleavey.com

Bowling along …

Ah, the kitchen. Now if I think really hard, I may be able to remember where it was. The trouble is, Lizzy usually comes up to the drawing-room to discuss the day's menu. Failing that, she'll snaffle me in the boudoir while I'm enjoying a morning cup of chocolate. So one forgets. You understand.

I have been down there, but I think it was about the time that dear old Mr Churchill came to stay. We couldn't find him anywhere, and ultimately flushed him out in the pantry, where he'd taken cover while despatching the cook's sherry. Sherry is something I find rather easier to track down …

Lizzie would like me to
draw your attention to
these rather delicious
little enamel basins. They
also are from www.claireleavey.com, and priced at a ridiculously cheap £4.95 (plus p&p) for a
nesting pair. They can be used for any purpose at all, with the only limitation that, due to the steel interior, should you put them into one of these frightening 'microwave' arrangements they will blow
up the oven, and probably burn down your house.
So not to be attempted, yes?

Ideal for all sorts of kitchen work (making pancakes, beating eggs, melting chocolate, butter and so on, apparently), they're also the perfect things for picking soft fruit, bathing lapdogs' rheumy eyes, and even – believe it or not – for making steamed puddings (which is of course the purpose they were originally designed for). I love nothing better than a fine spotted dick. With melted butter. Oh yes.

Never a slip …

It's a constant struggle to find clothing of a durability and style that one needn't find embarrassing – so it's a true ornament to our otherwise slightly frightful British Isles that over in Norfolk a firm called 'Old Town' works to produce a wide selection of really rather delicious get-ups in an otherwise unobtainable class of both quality and cut.

Examine for a moment this very serviceable ladies' Fair Isle slip-over. It's a proper hand-knitted garment, made to order by the ladies of Lerwick using real Shetland wool.

Taken from a vintage pattern, the slipover is
priced at £145, and
available from Old Town's 'ties, knitwear, sundry items and gift vouchers' page. While you're there, be sure to marvel at their delicious jackets, high-waisted trousers proper shirts and
so on too. There's not quite enough purple satin for my taste, but you can't have everything …