I was invited to a party in the late 70s, when I was in my late twenties, to which guests were invited to wear something they wouldn’t be seen dead in. My pièce de résistance was an NHS wig prescribed for me when I was having chemotherapy - it was in a bouffant backcombed bob style and made from the same vinyl hair as a doll, and it made me look like a barmaid in a low dive. I didn’t lose enough hair to make it worth my while showing my face in it, as it were, but I thought it would be a pity to waste it, so I teamed ‘her’ with a black full length nylon nighty an d mountain climbing boots. I was prett sure I wouldm’t have to be seen dead n it, and so far I haven’t been!