OUT OF PHASE WITH FASHION

I'm not entirely sure how I've made it to the end of this week.

Nonetheless, there's a celebratory cola on my desk and the clock ticks ever closer to a restful weekend. Well, you know, relatively speaking.

Hay fever combined itself with a cold this week, and caught me off-guard. Then, an eventful late night was followed by a surprise early morning, when the gas man turned up to read the meter.

I say 'man' but he was around 14 years old I reckon. Yellow jacket, device that looked like a Gameboy (there's no way he'd remember what a Gameboy was) and a regulation British Gas baseball cap. He nervously shone a torch in my cupboard and took a photo of the meter.

Soon, the world will be run by young people, I’d wager.

Oh. That reminds me! Sandals and socks are back!

In an unbelievable twist of fashion irony, the trope of the uncool is now the cool of the gang: white socks, sliders (think moccassins with no toe) and jogging bottoms.

Yesterday I saw a kid, perching on a bike like a gangly spider, sporting the look, without even so much as a risible glare from his colleagues. He'd fashioned his hair like Gareth from The Office as well: bowl at the front, shaved at the back - enough to earn you ridicule and abuse in the 90s, somehow the look twenty five years later. Incredible. And why white socks? They're going to get filthy quickly!

I remain then, completely out of phase with fashion. And everything else - I am so tired. It's like the world's going by at a slightly different speed to me and I'm just an observer, swirling in and out of reality.

But then, maybe that's always been the case.