Vintage View: The works of MI Hummel

THE cavity-forming sweetness until recently, (possibly with the rearrangement of my hormones), would send Ms deLongchamps bursting through the wall to attempt escape.
As my 11-year-old sage would say — ‘creep-tosa’. MI Hummel figurines, those flamed-cheeked little butterballs with their knock knees, whipped cream hair, pinafores and lederhosen, populated mantelpieces in stiff little gangs for an entire generation of sentimental baby-boomers.