I grew up on the edge of a big city in the middle of England called Birmingham. It’s an OK place. It’s not beautiful or anything like that.
‘Dry clean only’ is probably a phrase that you have seen before. You see it on the labels of certain pieces of clothing – like smart jackets, trousers and skirts, and ties or other silk garments.
My computer desktop is a bit like my handbag: it’s full of things I either don’t need or don’t use, it looks untidy, and I’m not quite sure where a lot of the stuff has come from.
Have you ever heard the phrase, ‘your school years are the best years of your life’? Well, it’s not true. At least, I hope it isn’t.
If you’re following this blog, you’re probably at the age when you realise that your parents haven’t always told you the truth.
A few weeks ago, I was sitting in Departures at Orly Airport in Paris with nothing much to do.
By today’s standards, my mobile phone is pretty rubbish. It’s a Nokia 1616.
‘When you’re small you’re like a piece of paper with nothing written on it.
There is one shop on my road in Berlin which really stands out from the rest. Himo is nestled in between a closed-down supermarket and a quiet, tired-seeming hairdressers.