Parenting: Every fag break, his gold bag went too

With my babies away, another grown-up party and again it's fancy dress (my friends are all big kids), with a royal theme.

The party girl herself is Princess Margaret, all tiara, cigarette holder and heavily bandaged feet, there are several Freddie Mercurys and Jim Royles, Jesus Christ (hair and beard his own), a Queen of Hearts, Princess Leia, and multiple drag queens. What is it about stilettoes and low-cut leopard print dresses as tight as sausage skin that gets men going? I know, if I have to ask, that's where I'm going wrong.

My favourite was the Hayley Cropper-style tranny, comfy white slip-ons, a nice Monsoon-ish dress and pop socks (revealed during Cyndi Lauper's Girls Just Wanna Have Fun). Every fag break, his little gold bag went too, long after his gal pals had lost their clutches and were lolling, legs akimbo. No, this guy had previous. And style.

My outfit was woefully last minute. Headscarf, padded jacket and wellies (black Hunters were first made for the Princess Royal – who says she doesn't do fashion? I met her once and would have swapped a child for her black Chanel 2.55 bag.)

Later an Elvis tells me: "Everyone should have an outfit ready. You'll get the wear out of it over the years. I got this on eBay."

He's right. I'm going to replace my Dunlops with Hunters, and a cheeky wee Chanel bag would be a great investment.