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On Tuesday I accidentally dressed like Kirsty Allsopp. I don’t know why. It’s never happened before.

I wore a red and white floral, knee-length summer frock, navy cardigan and red pumps. Pure Allsop.

I mean, I really like Kirsty Allsopp. She knows how to get the best deal on a 3-bed cottage in Derbyshire and can make a pin cushion from an old kilt and an empty smarties tube.

But Kirsty’s style is her own. And I accidentally stole it.

I’m praying I don’t suddenly rock a Nicki Minaj on the school run.

 

On Wednesday I hosted the staff awards at Great Ormond street hospital. 200 of their finest nurses, doctors, surgeons, consultants, porters and admin staff crammed into a lecture room as myself and their chief exec Jane handed out certificates celebrating their achievements.

There was a great atmosphere in the room which got even livelier when photos on a huge screen showed celebrity visitors from over the years.

One photo from the 80’s showed a visit from the Chippendales. Completely innocent but looking back, inappropriate and just plain bizarre. The whole room erupted into laughter.

There, sitting up in her hospital bed was a poorly young girl posing for a snap with 4 muscle-bound male strippers, complete with glistening hevage and long wavy poodle perms.

I just hope the girl wasn’t admitted with respiratory problems – all that hairspray, mousse and fake tan fumes could’ve caused complications.