As students of the British legal system know, it’s against the law to buy somebody else a present without getting one for yourself. Consequently, I am now the proud owner of new trainers.
Since my old pair are more ropey than Britney Spears after a night on the Diamond White, this is a cause for celebration. At least, it will be – once they’re worn-in, and not so damn white. In the meantime, I shall mostly be looking like an idiot, with Hollywood smiles for feet.
Anyway, that’s enough about my coruscating shoes. I’m off to tap-dance in a dog turd.