My daughter is named after this woman.
Judging from her typically snappy smart casuals (all linen, if I'm not mistaken, and such beautiful shoes), this photo was taken in the late 30s or early 40s, at Lorne, Victoria, along the Great Ocean Road. It looks like the Pacific Hotel in the background (correct me if I'm wrong, Judi).
Y'know, I loved my parents well enough,
But there was no one on God's Earth like my Nan. She was my life.
I get my textile snobbery directly from her. Thanks to Nan, I could identify Irish linen before I could string a coherent sentence together, and I don't believe my skin ever touched polyester fibre as long as she drew breath.
Mym is looking just like her which, for some reason, surprises me.