I am not style

On Saturday I found myself in a large department store in Glasgow. I was there to purchase a shirt, possibly two, to get me through the endless round of Christmas nights out, lunches and whatnot that will inevitably start to pile up towards the end of the year. So I was looking for the smart/casual combination and as I wandered round I started to realise that I’m not style and, frankly dear reader, I never have been. Don’t get me wrong, growing up I succumbed to the fashion senses of the day, I had a plastic, neon orange belt, neon pink and yellow socks (always worn with one colour on one foot, the other on the other), and the tartan …

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