Last night I went to the zoo. The zoo at night? Yes, the zoo. At night.
There was some fashion thingy happening in one of the sand-filled play areas, Hanni was modelling her friend’s clothes, so I was obliged to go. Fashion, not really my cup of tea; but zoo, deffo my cup of tea.
After a week of blazing sunshine, it was only fair that there was a thunder storm the evening of the show (a thunder storm that has left many plant pots and window boxes smashed on the pavements of my street). This, of course, brought the what-to-wear dilemma. Not in a going-to-a-fashion-show-gotta-be-cool-as-a-cucumber-in-the-Antarctic way, but in a it’s-pissing-down-but-still-hot way. Drenched with rain or drenched with sweat?
It was good to be at a zoo with so few people around. Billy and I had a nice walk around before the show. Flamingos all flamingoing in the rain, cockatoos (or something) snuggling, foxes going crazy when they saw Billy, Billy going crazy when he saw the hyenas, rhinos wallowing in big puddles, zebras being… stripey.
The rain held off for a while, and the fashion began: people wearing clothes walking ’round with straight backs, music, all that stuff. And it was good.
But not as good as taking photos of goats in the dark with a flash.