I didn’t compare well to Brucie’s babe!

IF A charity ball with Princess Anne doesn’t merit a new evening dress, I don’t know what does. And so it was, 35 years ago this month, that I arrived at a hotel in London’s Park Lane, with my late husband Desmond Wilcox, dressed in a cream chiffon concoction, with matching scarf, designed by Frank Usher.

Figure-hugging and strapless, it was a daring departure for me. Almost, I worried, out of my league. But as I set foot inside the glittering pre-ball reception, I felt a sense of confidence. Until, that is, I spotted Bruce Forsyth with his gorgeous wife Wilnelia. She was dressed in exactly the same gown.

Being about a foot taller than me – and an ex-Miss World to boot – there were no prizes for guessing who looked infinitely more glamorous. This was a fashion disaster and something had to be done. Springing into action, Wilnelia draped my chiffon scarf over my shoulders, and tied hers around her waist in a bid to make us look different.

As the photographers started to arrive, Brucie said ‘I’m in charge’, and stood between us. And we got away with it, I think. Although I did confess our fashion faux pas to Princess Anne later that evening and she looked wryly amused. As Wilnelia taught me, it’s just a matter of utilising accessories and holding your nerve.

It happened again a few years ago, when I attended a formal event at my old Oxford college. I’d been asked to make a speech honouring the principal and, as I arrived in a long jacket, I noticed she and I were wearing the same dress.

I wore my jacket throughout lunch and then rose to make my speech, peeling off my outer layer to reveal our identical outfits.

There we were, two identical peas in a pod. It got a much better laugh than any of my prepared jokes.