Well, actually it’s no longer 27 October. It’s Monday 28 October, it’s breakfast time and the girls and I are watching the rain and wind intensify outside as we await the arrival of the storm that’s been bringing down trees and flooding roads overnight. We didn’t watch yesterday’s show live as we were at a house party that went on until a bedtime-busting 7.45pm.
Toast has been toasted and, because it’s half term, we are watching telly while we breakfast. The results show has been recorded. Press play.
Tess and Claudia walk on stage. Tess’s frock hasn’t, I’m afraid, sent us into a creative frenzy.
“It’s a purple dress,” says 4-y-o. “Tight,” adds 6-y-o.
We’re drawing something of a blank in the purple fabric department too. My wedding dress would be about right, but I’m loathe to cut it up for the sake of dress like Tess.
I’ve just cleared out a load of the kids’ clothes and there are a few bits I can’t sell on or give away because they’ve been chewed or have undarnable holes.
A terracotta jersey top might work if we colour it purple with felt tips…
Meanwhile, following a heated debate about whose doll is whose, Tinkerbell is this morning’s model. Saturday’s Tess is still resplendent in her navy satin number and was last seen speeding off in the pink Barbie car across the lounge carpet. I think she’s off to a photo shoot.
So here we are. Not our best effort… Although in this light the colour of the fabric doesn’t look too bad. I’m afraid there’s no picture of Tinkerbell on her own in her frock because she’s already had her dress removed by 4-y-o.
Did any of you do any better? Send me some pics!
Well here we go… just me and younger daughter tonight and we’re super-excited. The credits roll and she dashes upstairs to get “Dress like Tess”.
OK. Tess is wearing a dark blue long satiny type frock. We rack our brains and search through the drawers under our beds. As luck would have it, when I was pregnant with elder daughter, my mother-in-law made me a top and I souped it up with some dark blue satin ribbon. Result.
So we get busy with ribbon, “Tess” and sellotape.
But we’ve barely got the skirt together when a Dress Like Tess picture arrives. This one’s from Abi Gray, a Norwich-based ACTUAL FASHION STYLIST. Woohoo!
Now, poor Abi is feeling somewhat under the weather today but she still put this together using a lace top, a piece of blue fabric and a single pin. And all by 6.42pm. She rocks.
Meanwhile, younger daughter and I put this together… although, as littl’un points out: “You can see her pants!”
Let’s see how she looks alongside her televised self…
So by now we’re really getting into the spirit of things. It was a dark, windy, rainy night and we’d just got in from dinner with family. PJs on and we were ready for Strictly.
As soon as Tess appeared on screen in a net-topped whiteish minidress with flower-type embroidery, elder daughter yelled: “Piece of white paper and a black pen!”
So that’s what we did. Younger daughter was responsible for embellishment.
So how to describe Tess’s frocks? The costume department on Strictly is nothing short of amazing, and when we watch the nice costume lady on Thursdays’ It Takes Two, she has a fabulous vocabulary of fabric types, styles and embellishments.
I can just about do colours. My descriptive range extends as far as “see through”, “lacy” and “shiny”.
Thank goodness for phone cameras, eh?
I couldn’t watch this live as I had a family event to attend, but hung over and in a rush to get younger daughter to a dance thing of her own, I watched the Saturday show with the girls first thing on Sunday morning. Tess appeared in a long black number with lacy glittery sleeves.
And we went for one of my old socks, into which we cut arm and head holes, and some silver Christmas-tree stuff (it used to be called “Lametta Icicles” I think) to approximate the sleeves.
Was there sellotape? There’s always sellotape.
Looking good there “Tess”. Let’s see how you compare with your televised self.
Tess appeared in a shiny short black number.
Here’s “Tess” in an artfully sellotaped bin bag.
I live in something of a Strictly Come Dancing obsessed household. My two girls (aged 6 and 4) and I love the sparkle and the glam of the BBC’s Saturday night hit. We also — of course — watch the Sunday results show and Zoe Ball’s daily SCD bulletin It Takes Two.
We have our favourite couples and our favourite judges. Last year, we even made cardboard scoring “bats”.
But this year we have a new game.
And it involves Tess Daly (who should arguably be the main host of the whole show).
We were wondering how her wardrobe choices were made. How can such a statuesque woman be given such odd frocks?
As the series began, facebook posts were exchanged suggesting alternative ways to make Tess’s frock (a shower curtain and towel rail in week two, for example). But then my girls got involved… So now we begin each Saturday and Sunday show with a Barbie (I say Barbie… she’s actually the Wilko equivalent) and try to recreate Tess’s frock by the end of the programme.
Play along… go on; we can’t be the only family with felt tips and a doll. Post me your pics.