Pretend this is an ascot

Preferably pretend it's an ascot of neatly four-in-handed silk tucked smartly into the '60s Carnaby Street authenticity that is the smartly tailored glen plaid jacket I'm not-pretend wearing in this picture. And then pretend I'm pictured here having high tea at Harrod's or lobbing withering insults at the downstairs help instead of struggling to find not-shadowy selfie light behind a set piece backstage at rehearsal. There! You now have a deeply nuanced understanding of the emotionally layered noblesse oblige my character brings to our show.

Speaking of our show, you should come see it -- if for no other reason than to find out if I pretend to wear pants.

Zip up your tickets here.