When it comes to the Trunch...

A bunch of friends and I got tickets to see Matilda the musical in Stratford the other day, so we thought we would make a nice day of it and try and explore the town a little.  It ended up being freezing and rainy and I was more than a little sick, so we spent a lot of time mooching around in warm cafes with mulled wine, and I ended up having a cosy, great time.

(The musical was SICK.  If you get a chance to get tickets, I would most definitely take them as I have a feeling that once it gets bigger, it's going to explode.  If it's any encouragement, the music is by Tim Minchin and boasts his funny-poignant signature.  And, if you've always wanted to see Agatha Trunchbull come to life in an absolutely definitive portrayal by a wonderful male actor, now's yer chance.)

Blouse and jacket - Primark.  Shoes - Shu Time.  

Leggings - Cotton On.  Necklace - Melbourne flea markets.

Earrings - Claire's.

Estimated Temperature - 0

I have a couple of these soft cotton rugby striped shirts and I love wearing them.  I love the contrast between the masculine stripes and the sleeves and the feminine length of the body and I would wear them everyday if I could. 

I like toughening up the excessively girly pink on this one with a faux leather motorcycle jacket.  When I zip it up, it crops and completely alters the silhouette.

Some other interesting things we saw and did in Stratford: 

The whole theme of Matilda was bright colours for children and scrabble tiles, for learning! 

 

Quentin Blake was actually supposed to show up in the morning and draw Matilda, which I was dying to see, but he fell ill and sent some lovely drawings instead.  The theatre rallied round wonderfully, converting the event into one where all the children piled onto the stage and did their own drawings while actors read from Roald Dahl books.  Mind you, they were kids so some of the drawings were rubbish (and proud parents are just going to have to live with that), but some were wonderful and made me laugh out loud.

 

 

At lunchtime, Shriya and I, who were starving and poetically broke, went into a fancy restaurant and conned them into letting us share one expensive main dish while we took brooding, artistic pictures of ourselves by which to remember the experience.

Naturally, we stopped to pay our respects at Shakespeare's birthplace.  The man on the street who helped us take this photo was so annoyed at the way we were desecrating the holy nature of this place that he made us stand politely with our arms around each other and take another photo.

Honestly, and I will say it now and be stoned, he was a great writer but I am not a massive fan of Shakespeare so whether I am facing forward or standing on my nose in front of his house makes no difference to me.