As I hover, awkwardly, for what seems an interminable amount of time, Dame Joan Collins clocks my hanging right hand. "Darling, I don't shake hands," she says, sashaying off.

Thus begins my lunch with showbusiness royalty and, as of the New Year honours list, a dame.

We may have got off to a shaky start but for the next 90 minutes Joan – sorry, Dame Joan – is a dream: feisty, witty and unapologetically opinionated.

Wearing a cowboy hat and Michael Jackson-esque sunglasses throughout, she exudes Hollywood glamour. I want to be Joan.