I am a little less freaked out about the Polo. My racing friend says that the dress code is probably a la stands at Newmarket or somewhere which means the floaty top over some nondescript trousers probably will do the trick - especially with a summer jacket.

Meanwhile, my mother guffaws good humouredly and says I won’t be able to go anyway; scene one she says I won’t be able to walk, scene two and clearly I’ll be off field and scene three I’ll be zombified by lack of sleep or unable to attend because the enormous weight of my engorged bosoms will preclude me from walking upright…

Meanwhile after discussing the dress code with Mr BC, I think his, very flattering view, is that if he thinks I’m lovely everyone else will too, even if I’m dressed in a selection of bin bags and some crocks (so long as it doesn’t look “frumpy”)!

Few people on this planet are as comfortable in their own skins as Mr BC so his view is that all this social convention is so much crap and the fact I’m there should be enough. Especially as most likely, I will, once again, be wearing the only clothes I fit into! Then again, I gather it’s a client rather than his firm which is a very different kettle of fish. It probably will be.

I may demur at the heels though!