I’m not one of those people. You know the type: “I can’t wear that. I’ve worn it before.” – Sorry, WHAT? I don’t understand. If I like something, I get a solid amount of wear out of it. If I love something, I’ll wear it until all that exists of it is a single fabric fibre, attached lovingly to my being or wrapped delicately around my wrist (I may have attachment issues). In other words: I wear it to death. My Achilles heel is Mongolian fur (and lots of it) so wearing something to death, for me, usually involves an element of ‘passing on’ in a semi-human sense, i.e. devastating disintegration in the form of gradual balding. This process is sped up rapidly if I favour windy days. I can’t even reassure my fab furzzz that they’re going to a better place, because that would be a treacherous lie. With that in mind, if y’all have any fluffy treasures you wish to get rid of please just send ’em my way. I’m sorry, I seem to have digressed – what was I talking about?