I’ve never worn a wig voluntarily. But the first time I remember being told I had to, I was five years old and, because my birthday is on Hallow’een, my parents were dressing me up as a werewolf.

Indeed, because of that date, I was subsequently dressed up every year after that until my 12th birthday when I threatened to call social services.

After that, the next time I donned a wig was when I was 22, a friend of mine Louisa, a nurse, was ill, so her boyfriend and I thought it would cheer her up if we both dressed up as ward sisters to deliver her breakfast.

Eleven years then passed before I took part in a toupe expose.

Toupes are hair pieces for men too ashamed to reveal any loss of hair, and I had one of the world’s top toupe manufacturers create 10 bespoke hair pieces for 10 balding men (I was one of them).

Interestingly, only three of the ‘models’ looked better with a full head of hair, while my particular toupe reduced to me to looking like someone hiding a string of offences.

Next up, and just two year later, I was asked to investigate transvestism.

The city I was living in at the time boasted a shop that specifically served the needs of those men who wanted to dress as women, and depending on what you could afford, you could be a ‘submissive librarian’, a ‘high end retail vixen’ or a ‘blushing bride’.

Because the store would only allow me to interview its clients in costume, I chose the ‘meek payroll clerk’ package.

And pretty convincing it was too (I had even had to watch a deportment video on how, in heels, to climb stairs and sit cross-legged).

I was in my late 40s when, having moved to Oxford, Oxford Playhouse asked me to dress as a ‘Dame’ in order to interview the cast of their latest pantomime which was to be filmed and placed on YouTube.

And now, in my 50s, I have been asked to wear a wig again – though this time to play a man, William White, Oxford’s famous Victorian City Engineer.

This coming Saturday, a new tourist attraction ‘Explore Oxford’ opens at the Town Hall (10am-5pm), which offers a brand new interactive experience for visitors keen to uncover the city’s colourful past.

I have been asked to play William White because, as Oxford’s newly appointed ‘Toilet Tzar’, the City Council felt it appropriate I recreate the man who oversaw the creation of the city’s first, modern sewage system.

The beard, moustache and wig are on loan from the Royal Exchange Theatre in Manchester and are worth a king’s ransom (so much so, a trained make-up artist is currently being sought to fit the hair pieces – telephone Annette Cunningham on 01865 252162 for further details).

I’m assured I’ll look convincing, but what worries me however is if I embrace the Victorian look, I might have to seek surgery to permanently correct my 21st Century sense of M&S swagger...