Before I tell you more about the hotness that is Diana Rigg DBE, I have to confess to a childhood sin. At a tender young age, my mother (and I) watched The Avengers. Needless to say that I understood half of the banter, not much of the covert sexual tension, but I was hopelessly and head over heels in love with Emma Peel, she of the tight outfits. For many of you, the name will not ring a bell, and I will admit that it is a 1960s series and that television in Belgium was hopelessly outdated at the time. But ah, how I used to look forward to Emma's karate chops. For a short demo, please do not hesitate to click below.
I mean, wowza. Look at that. And she can knit too! As the years went on, and I grew older, the soft spot in my heart never faded and I continued to squeal contentedly every time a film listed the sexy avenger, now slowly morphing into a silver fox, among its cast. As Rigg went on to carve out a comprehensive stage career, I had to content myself with her rare appearances on the Beeb.
But there's something about her, something that I can't quite put my finger on, that I find hopelessly, addictively attractive.
And let's face it, how can you not love a woman whose middle name is Enid?
I'm a failed domestic demi-goddess, fallen from the heavens, here to threaten you all with bad spelling and too much food, an arched eyebrow or two and too many adjectives. Don't you just love me?
But there's something about her, something that I can't quite put my finger on, that I find hopelessly, addictively attractive.
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