Now, I'm rarely at the height of fashion. Like Jeremy Paxman I'm more likely to worry about the gusset support of trusty M&S underwear than whether I'm wearing the latest 'must have of the season'.
However, a bizarre combination of an upcoming wedding invitation and me needing a new suit means that I'm unexpectedly at the forefront of fashion - I've popped into the newly opened Banana Republic store on Regent Street.
It's basically a smarter version of Gap - but I know what I like and this sort thing appeals to me. I do note, however, that even a new store, whose assistants were good in showing me where things were, still has that universal issue of not having enough tills open when I actually want to pay for the stuff.
My descent into middle aged grumpiness continues...
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