After a whole weekend of sole-parenting - and not just sole-parenting, but sole-parenting while ill, and to three children whose own end-of-winter snuffles and complaints are making them even more all-consuming than the mere fact of their tender ages - I am only just feeling magnanimous enough to forgive The Bearded One on the grounds of the fact that he's been working rather than, I dunno, having fun.
My good nature, however, does not extend so far as the bods at the Times Style Supplement. Imagine my disappointment - no, my teeth-gnashingly, blood-curdlingly red-hot fury - when I fell hungrily on the sealed section of the paper only to unearth a - what?? a Men's Fashion Special? A MEN'S FASHION SPECIAL?? Do you mean to tell me that, on a weekend where the only hit of retail I've had has been a £35 tunic (which will hopefully make my Sass & Bide Black Rats more wearable than they've so far been this year) I'm not to be treated to pages of swoonsomely lovely things to long for, lust after and, oh go on, all right then, buy? Are the nightmare-inducingly ugly feet of the male model on page 47 really as good as it gets??
Thank heavens for The Sartorialist, to whom I turned for comfort. Hel-lo Mr Milan. Apparently special is a word that can be applied to men's fashion, after all.
photo from The Sartorialist
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