Having consumed all ten episodes of Season Four of The Crown, I’m left with a feeling not unlike flu from an overdose of frou-frou.
Not to mention a sincere wish to hide behind the sofa, as I’m reminded of all those 1980s horrors that I, like Diana, once proudly wore.
The tank tops, the Patricia Roberts patchwork sweaters, the Laura Ashley pie-crust blouses and polka dots. Not to mention the sea of mid-calf skirts, dropped waists, puff sleeves and, horror of horrors, shoulder pads, often all piled together in a single garment.
For while the latest season of The Crown
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