Clothes Archive

Montalbano Sono

As icons go, a balding police inspector from Sicily may not be up there with the most obvious choices, even more so given that he is a fictional character. Yet there is something in/about Salvo Montalbano that sings to me. That makes me think of all the time I have spent in Italian department stores

A right old mess

“You look like a mum” she says, following the trail of undigested milk down my top. “Great” I reply. Knowing I’ve now got to change. Change, yes, but not just my top. I posted the above photo three weeks ago. Some two weeks after Harry was born. I hadn’t shaved for most of those two

Postcards from Rome – Dressing with the seasons

Pop quiz due How can you tell the locals from the tourists in Rome? Most of you are going for the trademark cameras or rucksacks. Others, for the gormless look of the lost tourist, nose deep in a map. The true key to differentiate between the two is not necessarily that simple. The real test

Death of a tee

Goodbye old friend You served me well I shall cherish the times we spent together You protected me You covered me You gave me warmth when others offered only cold You were cool when some would have been stifling We travelled great distances together But as time drew on, you rarely left the house You

A stig by any other name

I’m a mess. With each passing week – with each frayed collar, each lost button – every load of washing (of which I am unlikely to have played an active part), it is clear. I am letting myself go. I can’t remember the last time I bought an item of clothing – can’t remember the