When Leo was in London, for the longest time he INSISTED on wearing my Mums 25 year old Air India jacket that I had chucked.
One of the most hideous garments ever created, it was black with huge buttons, a round collar with round lapels and absolutely no shape whatsoever.
Although at first I too had been temporarily beguiled by it, I had since seen the light and discarded it. When your not used to wearing jackets at all [and what idiot would in Bombay?], anything that’s non-denim seems smart.
Everyone at Beale and Inman saw this thing [Leo] walk in, with long curly hair, over which a big fluffy russian hat had been jauntily placed, all the while wearing a girl’s coat.
They naturally assumed at first glance, [and until I informed them otherwise] that he must be a little butch lesbian. [Bear in mind that Leo has never successfully been able to grow facial hair, much to his dismay]
They think all my friends are so pretty, Oh so pretty,
Oh so pretty and witty and GAY!!