Sunday, 19 May 2019

Ibiza Rocks... Part One

San Antoni, Ibiza.  I don't think there are many places that summon up immediate images and stereotypes, as well as sending either chills or thrills down the spine.  Back in my teens I wanted to escape the rural backwater town I grew up in and, with a bunch of female friends, escape to San An's bright garish lights and loud music to work for a summer season - I never made it then, though my friends did.  Since then it's not somewhere I've ever desired to visit - I can't help but think of rowdy and, dare I say it, chavvy young Brits passing out in the streets, fighting in the streets, pissing in the streets, throwing up in the streets... you get the idea.  Anyway, I could probably get the same experience on a night out in Oldham, so why waste money going all the way to the Med?

So, the party-capital of the Med was definitely off my list of places to go for a week-long holiday.  That is, until I learned that in May of each year, hard rock and heavy metal fans descend on the town for seven days of hard drinking and hard music.  "So," you may say, "what's the difference with the usual bunch of SanAn visitors who just want to listen to loud music and drink loads?"  It would become apparent as the holiday wore on.  Anyway, seven days of a rock music holiday... well, a girl just had to check that out...

First problem - flights.  Yes, it seems the choice of flights from the UK to Ibiza are a little restricted out of season.  The fact that I needed to travel out mid-week didn't help.  So, Wednesday (my start day of choice) meant either Thomas Cook or Ryanair.  With having no faith in Ryanair since their recent 'staff issues' or wondering if they would drop me off in, say, Bacelona and make me swim the rest of the way, that meant Hobson's Choice - Thomas Cook.

So, before December last year my tickets and flights were booked.  Whooo-ho, I'm going to Ibiza...


Fuck, I'd forgotten how bad that song really was.  

Last Tuesday was spent packing bags and nervously weighing them, shuffling clothes and important possessions in-between my small hand-luggage allowance and large case to get the right weight/item importance against the maximum hand luggage/hold luggage weight allowances - Einstein would have been proud.

I was up the following morning at 1.30am, and my taxi trundled me off the Manchester airport by 3.00am.  All was going well up until going through security.  I found myself in the shortest queue, only a middle-aged blonde woman in front of me.  "No worries", I thought, "I'll be through here in a flash."  Boots, watch and bag were all ready to put in the tray for x-raying.... but the blonde dithered about.  Three bags in one tray - not allowed.  So, bags removed, split into different trays.  Then the security guy had to tell her to take her watch and metal belt off.  She took them off and stood holding them.  The queue behind me was getting longer.  "Put them in the tray," said the attendant, trying to not shout.  She put them in the tray and stood still, blocking anyone else moving forward.  After a minute of  indecision she was finally persuaded/told to move and my line began flowing again.  As I wasn't wearing much (my tight denim catsuit) I strolled through the metal detector and out the other side to wait for my trays of belongings.  Just as my tray went through the scanner the conveyor belt ground to a halt. Airport staff tried in van to get it going again.  Buttons were pressed (airport equivalent of 'turn it off, turn it on again', I think), hands waved over hidden sensors... to no avail.  By hand, all the baggage on the conveyor belt had to be moved to a new belt.  Without the dithering blonde holding everyone up I'd have been out of the way long before now.

Half an hour later I was finally through, a little more stressed than I had been.  Thankfully, the flight itself was trouble-free and just after 10.30am we landed in Ibiza airport.  I'd made a point of checking the buses from the airport to SanAn in the interests of saving valuable drinking money - €4 on the bus versus €30 taxi.  Yes, it took the best part of an hour, but I could cope with that.  Sadly, the timetable I'd been looking at was perhaps for the summer season only, and the direct buses were not running.  That meant a bus into Ibiza town itself, then another over to San Antonio.  My plans had gone slightly awry, already, it seemed.  Nevertheless, 2 hours or so later I arrived at the bus terminal in San Antonio and made my way towards my hotel for the week - the Tropical.  My first impressions of SanAn were... it's not as bad as I thought.  There wasn't much in the way of old buildings - everything looked like it was post-1960s, but it was clean... moreso than Manchester city centre on a weekend morning  Also, no Brits laid sprawled in the streets, though I wondered if I would be the first given the increasing heat and lack of fluids.

On the hot Spring air, though, suddenly I heard the heavy thud of drums and bass, rousing guitars, the scrawling gutter-voice of the late Bon Scott at full volume... yes, that's AC/DC shattering the airwaves in San Antonio.  My spirits lifted for the last yards of my walk, then even more so when I realised that the thunder of AC/DC was actually coming from my hotel... or more specifically, the outdoor hotel pool.  Brilliant.  I checked in, unpacked and sauntered over to the pool - AC/DC now replaced by more growling rock and heavy metal.  The area around the pool was nearly full - and all of the inhabitants were rockers.  Not everyones idea of fun, but I was in paradise.  For those not sure of the genre, here's a quick intorduction...



I bumped into friends from different areas of the UK that I'd met at various rock events and had a quick catch-up and a few drinks before deciding to explore and get some food.  I got chatting to one of the guys working at the bar, wondering what they thought of the crowd... "We like this week," he said, "lots of fun, no trouble."  It wouldn't be the last time I heard such comments.  Back to the hotel, a change of clothing (into denim hotpants), and a stroll to see SanAn's delights.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - San Antonio, Ibiza.
Parts of SanAn are not pretty.  Bars, bars, some cheap clothing shops, take-away outlets, bars... I managed to find a health-food cafe, though, and after a refreshing salad, wandered back to the hotel pool and poolside bar.  I have to admit that the rest of the afternoon was spent getting a bit drunk and chatting with groups of friends, to the background music of heavy rock and metal.

The plan then was to head over to the main club were the bands would be performing - Eden nightclub - for around 8.30pm.  I changed into my pink leopard-print playsuit that I'd bought for my Venice trip last year and, after meeting in the hotel lobby, headed off with friends to the official opening night of the heavy rock week.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - San Antonio, Ibiza.
Outside the club a massive bungee ride lit up the darkening sky.  "I must have a go on that at some point," I promised myself.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - outside Eden, San Antonio, Ibiza.
Inside the club I had another drink, the effects of hot sun, copious amounts of alcohol and a long, long day beginning to take their toll.  I stayed for the first band - Everyday Heroes - I know I saw them as I got a photograph...

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Everyday Heroes, San Antonio, Ibiza.
 ...but I can't actually remember them, sadly.  I do vaguely remember staggering back to the hotel later on and hitting the bed, and then suddenly it was Thursday morning.

I decided on a long walk the following morning, so headed off towards the marina and sea front.  On the way I found a fantastic cafe/restaurant - The Skinny Kitchen - and had a great brunch to fully refuel after the previous night's excess partying.  I'd certainly recommend this place, should you ever find yourself in the town and want to avoid greasy British food.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - San Antonio, Ibiza.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - San Antonio, Ibiza.
Nicely refuelled, I carried on my stroll around the west-side of the town, passing legendary haunts like Café Del Mar, a favourite of the 90s generation.  I could see why - its sea-front location looking out to those perfect Mediterranean sunsets was ideal.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - westward sea views, San Antonio, Ibiza.
With the hot sun calmed and refreshed by the delicate aroma of salted sea air I continued walking, passing a few more hotels and bars... as usual I was tempted to enquire what kind of watersports are on offer...

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - watersports, San Antonio, Ibiza.
... before finding a long stretch of path with only grassed car park to the island side and those lovely sea views to my left.  A few local inhabitants were also out enjoying the morning sun.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - San Antonio, Ibiza.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - San Antonio, Ibiza.
At the end of the long path were a more exclusive collection of hotels than were situated in the main town.  Away from the rowdy clubs and bars, it was actually quite lovely.  I sat and enjoyed the peaceful view, a gorgeous boat rocking gently in the blue swell.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - San Antonio, Ibiza.
With the sun beginning to burn down I headed back to the main part of San Antonio.  I was back at the hotel pool just after midday - time for another change of clothing and time to hit the pool area.


Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - denim hotpants again, San Antonio, Ibiza.
I'm not ashamed to say that the rest of the afternoon was spent... being a Brit in SanAn - poolside bar, lots of drinking, lots of friends, and LOUD music.  Only it was rock music, the atmosphere (as always at these kind of events) friendly, pissed-up and fun and there was absolutely no hassle from anyone.

That evening there was an official welcome party at the Ibiza Rocks bar.  That meant a long walk along the beach front to the bar, and rejoining around twenty friends for another night of... er... drinking and LOUD music.  Only this time, I totally forgot to take my camera.  Hmmm... maybe there was quite a bit more drinking than anticipated.  The bar staff had similar thoughts to the guys at the hotel pool bar.  "Since the rock events started for this week in May, it's our favourite week of the year," said the head waiter, "people come along, have fun, great music, never any trouble."  Perhaps there is a big difference in listening to loud music and getting drunk and listening to LOUD music and getting drunk.

After Ibiza Rocks a bunch of us made our way to the infamous 'Strip' - the main street full of bars.  At one end, though, stood Ground Zero - the 'official' after-party bar of the week. Ground Zero is usually a bit of an 'indie' bar (shudder), but this week was given over completely to rock - as in proper rock, not that Killers-type of shite.  It was lovely and cool inside, the music was superb - anything from Bon Jovi, Journey, Boston (come on, who doesn't want to sing along as loud as they can to 'Livin' On A Prayer', Don't Stop Believing' and 'More Than A Feeling') right through to Black Sabbath, Metallica, Slayer, Nine Inch Nails, Marilyn Manson and Rammstein.  A brilliant night, and I  remember walking back to the hotel in a large group at around 3.00am.

On Thursday... no Friday... er, Saturday?  No Friday - yes, definitely Friday... I think... I woke as usual quite early (yes, despite the drinking fun).  Another trip to The Skinny Kitchen for brunch, another trip back to the hotel pool and bar for the afternoon.  A pattern was starting to develop here, I realised.  A lady approached me and said she was in charge of the music - did I have any requests?  A little later the sonic wall of Led Zeppelin's 'When The Levee Breaks' exploded from the speakers.  I was in Heaven as Bonham's drumming thunder pounded the beat to classic Page riff and Birminham-Blues wailing of Mr. Plant.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Tropical Hotel pool, San Antonio, Ibiza.
At 4.00pm I headed over to VeganPoint for another delicious salad, this time taking it back to the hotel and eating on the balcony, serenaded by the poolside heavy rock directly opposite my room.  At one point there was a rumble of thunder, lower than even the music... I knew the sounds straight away from my visits to various historic motorsport events.  Yes, the heavy iron beat of an American V8 trundled into view - a classic 1960s Ford Mustang.  With a pretty blonde driving.  A vision from the rock gods, indeed.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Ford Mustang, San Antonio, Ibiza.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Ford Mustang, San Antonio, Ibiza.
 That evening we trouped back, en masse, to Eden to watch another band - this time Falling Red.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Falling Red, San Antonio, Ibiza.
After their set a group of us headed over to the nearby Tapas Restaurant Bar for a late meal.  Fantastic food, eaten al fresco and under soft glowing lights... and again I was impressed by some of the food available at San Antonio - it really isn't just burgers, pizzas and chips if you seek it out.  We didn't got back to Eden to watch the other bands - this time we headed over to Ragnarok, another rock bar in the centre of San Antonio.  There may have been a few more drinks consumed there before heading back to the hotel once again at around 3.00am to sleep it all off... no doubt there was going to more late nights ahead.

Sunday, 5 May 2019

A Complete Recovery

Good news from Bolton (and how many times has you read someone saying that??!).  Photos are recovered (and a few more that had disappeared recently, it seems) so my Brighton memories are once again intact... until Alzheimers kicks in, that is.

M, The IT Guru Of The North (which needs to be stated with a northern, 'don't fuck around' attitude like 'Jon Snow, King Of The North' if you are a Game Of Thrones fan) did what only he can do striking a killer blow at the corrupt and dead SD Card like Arya sticking her Valerian steel blade into the Night King.  OK, yes, I may have been over-indulging on my favourite TV show recently including the last crushing battle episode, so you'll have to forgive the vague references.

As a past-time, it's probably only slightly less geeky than trainspotting.  Which brings me nicely onto the next bit - also recovered were some accidentally-deleted photos from April, when I visited Manchester's Mayfield studio to watch a theatre production of Trainspotting, the classic Irvine Welsh story.  Not having a normal 9-5 job meant I could take an early booking on the Wednesday, have plenty of time to get ready, and head out to the theatre with my lovely lady friend S, who had the spare ticket for me just after 5.00pm.

Mayfield studios lies at the back of Manchester's Piccadilly train station - the city's sort of 'red-light' area.  The thought did cross my mind to do a bit of street-walking and see if I could pick up a john... jump in a car with a stranger, fumbling fingers at trouser zips, a hot frantic bout of cock-sucking, impeded by hard leather car seats and steering wheel, before sitting astride my unknown lover and guiding his steel-hard, piston into my hot, oiled chamber... but of course, sadly, it will remain a fantasy as the dangers outweigh the benefits - it was always thus. 

As for the show, it was mentioned on the tickets not to wear best clothing, as things can get a bit messy, so I decided my wipe-clean leather coat, over-knee boots and skin-tight leggings would be suitable.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - leather for Trainspotting.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Mayfield Studios, Manchester.
It was a brilliant show, including the infamous bed-sheet morning scene, resulting in messy fake poo getting sprayed over some parts of the audience, and a fair bit of male full-frontal nudity.  Fabulous.

As for the Brighton photos, I managed to use one that I'd salvaged off the camera last week for my Picture Of The Week, and here's a little taster for the newly-saved images.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - vintage lingerie and stockings, the lost photo-shoot.


Sunday, 28 April 2019

A BDSM Brighton Bank Holiday

Easter Bank Holiday.  Four days of fun, or, four days of travel chaos - be it airports or roads.  So, what does a girl living in Manchester do to escape?  Well, no-one sensible would brave a drive down the Devil's Highway Of Desolation (the M6... or should it be M666?), cut across the M42 Toll Road and it's highway robbery charges, travel down the world's longest racetrack (M40 - do 80mph here and you are definitely at crawling pace as cars thunder past at speeds that would make a Daytona racedriver think twice) before hitting the colossus of car parks - the M25 between Junction 16 (for the M40) to Junction 10 (for the A3).  Battle through the stuck traffic trying in vain to get to either Heathrow or westbound to Cornwall and Devon before hitting Junction 7 (Gatwick) and get snarled up there on agitated late-for-my-flight panic drivers and the ubiquitous 'Smart Motorway' development before finally heading south on the A23 for Brighton - the go-to resort for Londoners on a Bank Holiday break.

But, I'm a girl that doesn't mind a challenge - and besides 1) I left on Thursday afternoon hoping to beat the worst of it, and 2) Zara DuRose was hosting a little soiree at a boutique hotel in the lovely city - enough of a temptation to battle my way south.

Amazingly, my journey wasn't as bad as I feared - just five and a half hours after leaving home I had arrived in Brighton city centre and was unpacking my case in the lovely hotel bedroom.

The hotel was fantastically decorated with numerous music and film iconography...

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort -  Bowie in Brighton.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - hotel stairway, Brighton.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - hotel stairway, Brighton.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - hotel stairway, Brighton.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - hotel stairway, Brighton.

First things first, though... some photos in the fabulous burlesque-inspired bedroom.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - hotel bedroom, Brighton.
Two hours later and feeling in need of some alcoholic refreshment I made my way to the funky bar for (I promised myself) one drink - it was going to be a long weekend, after all.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - hotel bar, Brighton.
Unfortunately, after a couple of strong cocktails and few of shots of Old J Tiki Fire rum (75.5% abv) that idea was not only out of the window but was sailing merrily away from the coast, last seen heading towards France.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - hotel bar, Brighton.
The hotel was hosting an art exhibition, too, that night, so I met some lovely and interesting people, including a lovely retro-fashioned French girl that I introduced the pleasures of wickedly-spiced rum to - á votre santé, indeed.

It was near midnight when I stumbled up four floors of narrow, winding steps to my bedroom (I knew there was a lift but in my somewhat hazy state couldn't remember which cubbyhole/corridor it was hidden in), but I did think about quitting and sleeping on the corridor floor halfway up - the stairs certainly didn't seem so high when I first wandered up and down them.

Nevertheless, I was awake early as planned - no hangover, as it's never been something I've suffered, amazingly, and the plan was to venture into Brighton for a quick stroll before an afternoon snooze prior to party night.

Going with my 1970's-summer inspired mood, I slid into my tight denim catsuit and headed for breakfast in the main bar, taking another chance to peruse the various art on display...

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - poster, hotel, Brighton.
The artwork from the previous night was still on display, too, giving a rather bright start to an already sunny morning.


Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - hotel bar, Brighton.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - hotel bar, Brighton.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - hotel bar, Brighton.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - hotel bar, Brighton.

One fabulous breakfast later and I was out of the door into the glorious sunshine of the morning - it was going to be a scorcher.  Out on the seafront promenade it was fairly quiet in the hazy morning sunshine.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Brighton.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Brighton.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Brighton.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Brighton.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Brighton.


I had a stroll around the Laines, taking the chance to pick up some snacks and eat an early lunch before heading back to the hotel just after midday.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Brighton.
After an afternoon kip it was time to get ready for the 5.00pm start.  Another catsuit - see-through lace and decorated with Day Of The Dead tattoo artwork, that I bought from Hamburg all the way back in 2017.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - catsuit, hotel stairway, Brighton.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - catsuit, hotel stairway, Brighton.

Downstairs, the ZDR team had done their stuff to transform the small hotel into a sex/BDSM paradise.


Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - ZDR, Brighton.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - ZDR, Brighton.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - ZDR, Brighton.
Quite a few people had already arrived and the DJ was busy filling the air with a mixture of beats and sounds.  I got chatting to one lovely couple who had travelled further than I had - Cumbria.  I managed a quick chat with Zara and her fabulous team, too.  For the first time, too, I managed to have a proper look around at the transformed play areas.

In the main suite downstairs was a fantastically-sleazy circular bed (complete with mirrored ceiling) and a pole-dancing area.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - ZDR, Brighton.

That 1970s-decadence was definitely the feel of the weekend, it seemed.  In an adjoining room a jacuzzi big enough for quite a few people (assuming they are all 'very friendly') was waiting.

Back upstairs, more people had arrived.  I decided to join a tantric sex workshop out of sheer curiosity, so, with about ten others, filed back to the play room downstairs.  It was an interesting experience, even if I didn't really learn anything that would especially work in my own boudoir as it mainly centred around methods for getting the guys to manage longer before ejaculating.  Also, some of the positions that we we required to get into weren't exactly easy considering the myriad forms of constricting attire in the group - latex does indeed stretch, but only so much.  Across the room, one poor chap disappeared from view under his partner's humongous tutu as she struggled into position above him - her tight corset wasn't quite helping, either.  Others struggled in heavy latex and leather outfits.  My own stretchy elastane catsuit wasn't too bad, but I was quite nervous of an errant high heel, body-piercing or metal stud raking the  delicate material as people moved around me.  I actually became quite relaxed by the end of the session - not really what I was after when I actually wanted to be getting revved up to party.

By 10.00pm the party upstairs was back in full swing with stage performances featuring burlesque girls, but I was very disappointed to find that my tantric session had meant I missed my dear friend M and his new wife doing their somewhat extreme routine - all I will say is it featured fishing hooks, strong twine and a very brave man.  Well done M!  I did see the photos afterwards, at least.  It's the first time that fishing as a sport has ever appealed.

I decided to have a change of outfit midway through the night.  Off came the catsuit, on came a small sexy playsuit that I bought in Berlin all the way back in 2015, complete with fetish-inspired Alexander McQueen studded sandals.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - ZDR, Brighton.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - ZDR, Brighton.
Downstairs I had a drink and, sitting on a plush sofa in the playroom, enjoyed watching a little scene with a gorgeous blonde in red lingerie being spanked, which got me in the frame of mind for some fun of my own.  With perfect timing a couple came into the room - a mature gent and a gorgeous black lady with long black hair.  She sat on the sofa next to me and we began chatting.  In the midst of the chat we both mentioned that we liked girls as well as men, and soon I was astride her on the sofa, kissing her luscious plump red lips, our tongues performing a delightfully decadent tongue-tango as we kissed.  I stroked her heavy, full breasts and tasted her saliva and scents in my hungry mouth.  My pussy was dripping with its own honey by the time the couple decided to head for the jacuzzi to continue their fun, but I didn't fancy crowding into the jacuzzi with people already enjoying their own kind of watersports.

As the party began to wind down around 3.00am I got my chance to indulge in the some extreme and heavy BDSM play in an empty playroom.  With A as a willing femme supplicant and with the help of D (one of Zara's team) and an array of whipping delights we took the painslut to the very edge of her limits.  A very hot and energetic end to the night.


At 4.00am, some 11 hours after I ventured from my bedroom downstairs to start the evening, I was finally crawling back to bed.  A slow, drive back north on Saturday, complete with a stop-off at Ess&Emm near Banbury - only one problem raised its head.  On returning home I found that the SD Card in my camera had badly failed, leaving most of the photos I took on Thursday evening corrupted.  The offending SD Card is now with M, my on-hand IT Guru in the hope of rescuing said photos.  I was hoping to update the Private Gallery on my Adultwork profile with the saucier ones, so I will have fingers crossed all week in the hope that M can help.

Overall a fantastic Bank Holiday - helped, of course, by the stunning weather.   I'm hoping for even more sun on my next excursion...



Sunday, 31 March 2019

Nightmares And Dreams - Part Two

The following morning our alarms went off early - S and I had to get ready, whilst Mr.B, bless him, had volunteered to head over to the V&A museum to get in the queue for daily tickets.  It was still a long shot that we'd actually get any... but it was worth a try.

By 7.30am Mr.B had set off to South Kensington, and S and I tidied up the apartment and got ready.  That done, we caught a tube train down to Victoria, then it was just a short taxi ride over to the V&A, where we found a huge queue of well over two hundred people.  Luckily, Mr.B's early departure and stoic qualities in queue-sitting meant he was sixth from the front.  He was slightly pleased to see us as it meant he could actually go and find a toilet for some much-needed bladder relief.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Just before 10.00am a representative from the museum came out to tell us that there were only 120 tickets available.  I looked back at the long snaking queue behind us and thanked Mr.B again for his timely arrival - I doubted that we'd have had a chance if we turned up just after 9.00am as originally planned.

Tickets bought, and we were in the lobby of the stunning building.  With a short queue in front of is it gave a chance to have a quick look at a couple of exhibits - including a beautiful green and yellow glass-looking piece hanging in the main reception area.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - V&A museum, London.
We got to the main exhibition at 10.15am - our appointed time (only a certain number of people/tickets allowed at certain times to stop it getting too crowded).  Dior - Designer Of Dreams.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
We talk often about people changing the way the human world is viewed - artists and musicians, especially - think of Elvis, Bowie, The Beatles, Monet, Dylan, Beethoven, Carravagio... all challenged and changed the status quo.  Dior did similar... only in usable, wearable fashion.  After the Second World War, with Europe still in tatters, rationing across the continent (which would not end fully in Britain until 1954).  In the midst of this, Dior flamboyantly and bravely looked to a brighter future and unveiled his legendary 'New Look' style.

In the unglamourous post-war years, women were treated to tight, sexy jackets, figure-hugging pencil skirts and flowing full-bodied skirts that swirled sexily, high heels and glamorous gloves, sensual wide-brimmed hats that allowed a glimpse of dark eyes and red lips as the wearer coquettishly glances your way...

...it was a look into another world.  The original inspiration came from Dior seeing the shapes in an upturned tulip, with the sensous delights hidden beneath flowing petals.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior.
For the next hour I wandered around the truly breath-taking exhibition, beginning, appropriately, with that ground-breaking New Look collection.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
It also appeared Dior was quite a fan of the British and their style, (though what he'd make our the current style standards I'd hate to think...)

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
...enough to warrant a dress fit for a young Queen Elizabeth...

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Queen Elizabeth's dress, Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
I continued on through the exhibition, the years moving forwards with each display.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Christian Dior himself sadly died young, in 1957, but his fashion house continued, under the talented hands of other designers, such as Yves St.Laurent in the early years and later the likes of John Galliano.

The next display offered up a very different collection.  More baroque, more flamboyance, and with a decidedly French 'Palace Of Versailles' opulence.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Style-wise it was... not the sort of thing to wear to the local bar, but the detailing and soft colours were exquisite.

The next room couldn't have been more different.  Dark, bright and almost garish colours, and echoes of a different past, from Africa, the Far East and South America.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Next up... the Garden Room.  What I'd seen so far had been amazing, but the full display and stunning efforts by the V&A team was astonishing.  A ceiling draped in the lavender colours and shapes of wisteria gave the room a magical feel.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Luckily, the clothing collection that sheltered under the beautiful display was not over-whelmed... even the miniature display.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Further on, the exhibition changed again, showcasing some of the Yves St.Laurent works for Dior.  Dior actually spotted St.Laurent as a young designer and saw that he was capable of great things, giving his fellow Frenchman his first break in the fashion world.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
The display from the Galliano stewardship was bright, brash and brave, with strong colours matching strong lines...

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
The next room offered a very different aspect - mock-ups in plain white cloth, that showed the intricate cutting and design that goes into the final product.  There was an almost ethereal calm in the quiet, colour-free templates.

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Following the white room came a long corridor, with one side devoted to a rainbow of accessories...

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
 ...and the other to the various and numerous magazine covers that Dior's designs have graced...

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
The last room offered and ever-changing lightscape with some of the latest selections from the Dior house...

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
It was remarkable, a wonderful display from genuine artists and creators, with the last simple but beautiful word going to Dior himself...

Dexi Delite South Manchester Escort - Dior exhibition, V&A museum, London.
There was time left for lunch in South Kensington before heading back to Euston for our journey home.

A magical trip to London that I won't forget - the stuff dreams are made of, indeed.