So I’m stuck in the bus station and all there is to hand to pass the time while the driver of the 117 nips off to the toilet or buy a pastie or whatever is the ’style’ section of The Sunday Times.

Apparently, it’s London Fashion Week and my eyes were fair boggled by the ’styles’ on offer. Weird angular chicks wearing weird angular clothes with too-prominent cheekbones and zany eye makeup. I can’t say all that appeals to me.

The men weren’t much better, decked out in clobber that no self-respecting man North of, say, Hemel Hemstead would be seen dead in. You see the occasional fashion victim down in town wearing an indoor scarf and drainpipe jeans.

I sometimes think that my dad had the right idea: his traditional Asian robes literally never dated as they’ve  been much the same for centuries I imagine. 

In other news, the £100 ghd straighteners I blogged about a few weeks ago? Well it transpires that my wife doesn’t much care for them after all. Perhaps it’s just because the first time she tried them she managed to burn her ear, but pretty much they’ve sat unloved and mostly unused ever since. At that kind of outlay I wonder if a new wife might be a cheaper bet.

(If you’re reading this babes… love you!)