Every picture tells a story. That’s me at normal height, Catherine on tiptoes, Malcolm in a wig and a compere called Spice who is either 6 ft 10 or was wearing heels the size of a small building that I somehow managed to overlook in all the excitement. Maybe I was too busy admiring the finest beard and dress combo that I’ve seen since the last Pride parade I went to. That one was in San Francisco. This one was in Worthing.
You might not believe this, but the weather was better in Worthing.
We were proud to be involved in Pride. It felt good to be a part of something so happy, so accessible, so relaxed and comfortable. This was Worthing at it’s very best, recognising the diversity that exists all around us, speaking not shouting, learning not fearing and doing it all in killer heels.
But come on, have one more look at Malcolm. Next year, I’m buying a wig.