PENELOPE KEITH

Penelope Keith as either Margo Ledbetter in "The Good Life" or Audrey Fforbes-Hamilton in "To the Manor Born", or indeed just as herself, conveys the essence of Daphne. Or rather, what Daphne would like to be. She empathized enormously with the impoverished Audrey, a photo of whose eventual marriage to millionnaire businessman Richard De Vere she keeps in her wallet as a reminder that her ship may come in one day. She secretly practices announcing herself with "Daphne, Graefin von Fuchs-Langezeit zu Neanderthal, Guten Tag".

BARBARA CARTLAND

The late Miss Cartland was a great inspiration, particularly when it came to coordinating her outfits, she always had matching fur stole and dog. She was a great stickler for tradition in all areas of life, and I follow her example both in my table decorations and long winceyette nighties. She knew how to wear pink and as you can see, was a dab hand at putting on her makeup in the back of the Rolls on her way to a photoshoot. Delightfully mad and a prolific writer, one wonders if she were still with us, would she have been a blogger?

SIBYL FAWLTY

Although Sybil is slightly vulgar, with her adenoidal voice and her beehive hairdo, one has to admire her hotel management skills. Like Daphne, she had to deal with an idiot husband, as well as a mad Spanish waiter and a chambermaid with artistic proclivities. In Sibyl's place I'd have buried Basil under the patio and married the Major.

JUNE WHITFIELD, CBE

Try to ignore Lionel Blair prancing about in the background, have you ever seen the Queen look so happy as when she was chatting to June Whitfield? From Terry and June to Mrs Monsoon (oh that rhymes - did you see what I did there?) and more recently in Last of the Summer Wine, June has been a role model for Daphne with her elegant outfits, her graceful demeanor, her clear enunciation and her calm acceptance of the weirdos all around her. Rather like our own dear Queen, in fact.

"AUNTY" JOY PICKLES

Joy Pickles was a very early influence, as you can tell by the quality of this photograph. Star of such West End hits as Swingalongadante, Hamalongayorick, and the one which went straight to radio, Whizzalongawavelength, Joy and her stage husband "Uncle" Clarence were uncanny precursors of Daphne and Harold. They were once in a review group with famous comedian Arthur Smith. Joy (aka Babs Sutton) disappeared in Paris and was never seen again. Clarence is now a millionnaire and Arthur is a Grumpy Old Man.

BOADICEA

The Queen of the Iceni was a feisty dame, and much admired by Daphne's mother who named her daughter Daphne Boadicea Harridan in hommage to the rampaging monarch. It has been said (I will not say by whom) that Daphne lives up to the name when she is behind the wheel of a car.

BETTY BOOTHROYD

Despite her northern accent and her left-wing proclivities, Betty is a woman after Daphne's own heart. Like Daphne, she trod the boards in her younger days before turning to more serious things. As Speaker of the House of Commons Betty was always immaculately turned out, replete in full make-up, dress jewellery and manicured nails. Her sternly delivered "Sit down!" had Tory and Labour MPs alike quivering with masochistic delight. A lot of men would have paid good money for that kind of discipline.

JOYCE GRENFELL

The truly immortal Joyce Grenfell epitomizes the class, the elegance, the grace, and the humour that is Daphne. She also knew how to wear a flowery dress, which is even more impressive since she did most of her work on the radio.

MRS SLOCOMBE

Mrs Slocombe of "Are you being served" is rather evocative of Daphne's short stint working on the dress jewellery counter in a department store. Daphne however does not have a pussy.

DAME EDNA EVERAGE

The Australian housewife and superstar could be Daphne's antipodean twin - apart from the purple hair, the grating Aussie accent and the OTT specs. Edna and Daphne share exquisite dress sense, and an innate down to earth quality for which they are loved by millions. They are both, of course, widows, Edna's Norm and Daphne's Harold both much missed, although apparently useless when they were alive. But like the old troupers they are, they hitched up their support stockings and went on with the show.

HYACINTH BOUQUET

A good 50% of Daphne is shamelessly lifted from Hyacinth Bouquet of the comedy TV series "Keeping Up Appearances", played by the brilliant Patricia Routledge. Daphne shares Hyacinth's blatant snobbery, self-delusion, total obliviousness to other people's discomfort, obsession with What the Neighbours Will Think, love of entertaining, and of course a nice flowery dress. The hapless Richard was equally an inspiration for Harold, although the real Harold cannot be named for legal reasons.

MADEMOISELLE PIGGY

The porcine diva, with her magnificent bosom, her luscious locks, and her gorgeous frocks, is a seminal influence on Daphne, even down to our heroine's bizarre attraction to small green smart-ass frogs.

CHRISTINE HAMILTON

Another bossy deluded woman with a hapless husband. Christine somehow manages to evoke a dominatrix and a fluffy kitten at the same time. You can imagine she and Neil take turns in tying each other up (not too tight, dear, I've left something on the stove). Daphne admires her dress sense (navy blue and pearls, never dates) and her bravery after a cruel reversal of fortune.

FANNY CRADOCK

Daphne is an enthusiastic cook and loves entertaining. She was in her element when out in the tropics with Harold, floating about in a caftan with a small army of servants at her beck and call. Her menus are always rather reminiscent of the 1970's. Her culinary idol is Fanny Cradock, the inventor of the prawn cocktail and very bossy woman.

MAE WEST

There is a slightly raunchy side to Daphne occasionally. She likes younger men. Mainly because she refuses to accept that she is on the wrong side of 50 39 and thinks she looks a bit like Angelina Jolie in a good light, but also because they are strong and can carry heavy shopping bags. Her usual trick is to lure them with food and alcohol and then sequester them in her bedroom and subject them to gruelling acts of a lewd nature before taking them shopping. Few have survived.

MARGARET DUMONT

This statuesque and very funny lady was the perfect foil to Groucho Marx's leering smart-alec on the make. She was regal, wealthy and completely oblivious to Groucho's humour directed at her and his hand in her purse. A lot of people thought they were married in real life, although they were not. But they should have been.

MAGGIE MAGGIE MAGGIE

And talking of bossy women ... despite the instinct to gag felt by Daphne's creator every time she sees a picture of this woman, it has to be said there is an element of Maggie in Daphne. The conviction that she is always right, for example. However, Daphne is really a fluffy little kitten compared to the Iron Lady. Had Maggie tried wearing flowery dresses things might have turned out quite differently.

ANN ROBINSON

Daphne can be quite bossy sometimes, as the late Harold would attest, if he were still with us. Strong women tend to attract men who don't mind being dominated. In fact, some men quite like a bit of leadership in their woman. What's in it for the strong woman? Someone to carry the handbag, of course.

CARMEN MIRANDA

The diminutive Portuguese entertainer (no she wasn't Brazilian, she just grew up there) was known as the "Brazilian Bombshell" in the 1940's, and this is where Daphne derives her vivaciousness, uncanny sense of rhythm, and knack for balancing fruit on her head. One of Carmen's most famous songs was "Chica chica boom chick!" which sums it all up really.

MRS DOYLE

Notwithstanding their shared Irish ancestry, Daphne feels Mrs Doyle could benefit from a few hours with Trinny and Susannah. However, there is something about this woman's maternal attitude to the priests on Craggy Island(especially to the young one) that touches her heart. Bert is baffled by (but resigned to) Daphne's endless cups of tea and offers of Hob Nobs.

AND FINALLY ....

Portrait by Kim Ayres, August 2009

Congratulations. You've found the pot of gold at the end of the Wayne-Bough. Leave me a comment. You're not the first one here - that dubious character won a box of chocolates - but you're very welcome.

My name is Barbara, known to some as Babs, to Polish friends as Basia, and in parts of south London as Dave. Born in the Lanesborough Hotel (really!) in the middle of the last century, I was a "Diplomatic Spouse" for 12 years. Although as you can imagine I was far from diplomatic. I'm not really a widow, but a happy divorcee. I just "killed off" my husband for the fun of it.

I turned my back on the tax-free champagne-guzzling lifestyle of a foreign envoy in 2005 and have been in Brussels ever since. Before that I was (in reverse order) in Ghana, the UK, Poland, the UK again, Nigeria, and 14 years in Paris, where I worked for an American law firm and then the British Embassy, and sadly was never a dancer at the Folies Bergere! I probably danced on a few tables now and then, but never for money. I now work for a non-governmental organisation in Brussels which is involved in helping to shape European labour law (references to Millicent Tendency will strike a chord here).

Daphne was conceived on a train in Poland, as a way of killing the boredom of diplomatic spousitude, and Harold was invented to stop me killing my then spouse. Daphne initially wrote restaurant reviews for the in-house magazine, but went off at tangents so often that her views on life, marriage and table manners became required reading in diplomatic circles. You can read the pieces she wrote in Poland at "Wayne-Boughs' World".

After a number of years in semi-retirement, Daphne has found a new lease of life in Brussels thanks to the joys of blogging. Characters such as Vi Hornblower, Vera Slapp, Bette Noire, Scrumpy and Bert are all fictional but loosely based on one or more real acquaintances. These people all know who they are. Except Bert.

I spend my weekends home-making, cooking, reading, lying on the sofa, watching TV and movies, messing about on Facebook and of course blogging. I enjoy eating out, well eating anywhere to tell you the truth. And the occasional drink - after all those years in Paris I am an amateur of fine wines, but am not averse to a good Belgian beer either, or even the odd gin and tonic or three after a hard week at the office.

I have to travel occasionally with my job, organizing small conferences here and there, which I blog about under cover of touring with the Kurt Nachtnebel Oompah Band, or KNOB. So far I have been to Slovenia, Czech Republic, Spain, Greece, Cyprus and Bulgaria with my organisation. For holidays I prefer the UK or France or exploring my new home Belgium. I have many miles on the clock and am not really interested in long-haul travel any more. Travel broadens the mind, certainly, but also hardens the arteries.

I have been Brussels for over eight years now, the spiritual home I should have headed for 30 years ago. Speaking several languages (French, German, Polish) I love the multilingual nature of this town. People will find ways to communicate across the language barrier, and if that way is called "English", so much the better. But it is great to hear Spanish, Italian, German, Polish, English, French, Dutch, and many other languages spoken on a daily basis, sometimes in the same sentence. My colleagues are almost all multilingual, and it is not uncommon for a conversation to start in English, finish in French, pass through one or two other languages on the way and even stop off for a beer somewhere en route.

My long-term plan was to work in Brussels until retirement, then buy a property somewhere in a warm bit of France, where I (or Daphne) would finally write that novel I have been thinking about for the past thirty years. However, the banks have conspired against me and I may never be allowed to retire. If and when I do, I am now thinking more in terms of a return to Blighty, somewhere like Eastbourne or Worthing, where a lady of a certain age in a flowery dress may sit unmolested on the promenade eating her chips.

In December 2006 I invited a scruffy eco-warrior to Christmas lunch. He is still here. Gorbals McChe (for it is he) is my part-time butler, tech guru and lodger, not my life partner. Although the way things are going, I suspect I will be stuck with him for life. He is not much more fragrant than when I first took him in, but it's handy to have someone to send down to Mr Patel's for that third bottle of wine on a Saturday night.