An unreserved apology for national radio wardrobe malfunction

Avery nice young woman called last week from BBC Radio Scotland. International Women’s Day is coming up, she said, would I like to come on the radio to talk about working women in history?

Sure, I said. I really should ask more questions before committing to things. It’s on Sunday morning, she said. The first cloud had appeared on the horizon. You could never describe me as a lark kind of person. More of a night owl, me. I don’t do mornings very well, and for some reason, Sundays are even more of a challenge. It’s the long-lie, coffee-in-bed with the magazine-bit-of-the-newspaper day.

Right, I said. Well, I had said I’d do it. Yes, she said. We’re going to be on-air at 8.10. Can you get here for 7.50?

This wasn’t just a cloud, this was an entire stormfront worthy of its own name, but it was my fault for saying yes, so I grit my teeth and thought, well, what’s the worst that can happen? Okay, I said, I’ll be there.

Who do you think forgot to set her alarm and woke up at 7.51 on Sunday morning? Yes, that would be me.

I was upright, jeans and jumper on, and out that door in under 90 seconds, which I am taking as a world record.

From my house to the studio it’s about 15 minutes. Fortunately, everyone else was still in bed, so the traffic was non-existent.

It’s quite nice driving about the city when there is no one else there.

Sunday morning also means I could park right outside the Tun, fly out of the car and straight into the studio to slide into that seat before that microphone and start talking like I had risen, had a leisurely breakfast and strolled to the broadcasting studio.

About half way through the interview, whilst I was addressing the nation, I suddenly realised that yes, I had dressed and dashed. But I had completely forgotten to put any pants on.

Good people of Scotland, I apologise unreservedly for my wardrobe malfunction and pledge never to go commando on-air again.