“Am I just tripping?” a woman in an Athenian rainbow dress, floor-length dragon scale stole and wobbly velvet dunce hat asked a Royal Albert Hall crowd that included a sparkly emerald raver with a rack of sunglasses for a face and at least one Nosferatu. Well quite.
Roughly 37 costume changes earlier, as she thrust, shimmied and grinded across the stage dressed as a sci-fi druidess with an inflatable alien under one arm, we were convinced we were hallucinating Penny Mordaunt’s 4am antics at the Coronation after-rave.
