October 29

Got my goat…

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Thank you cashmere goats...

Ohmygosh… the sun is out. Well, sort of. A darn sight better than yesterday and the promise of vital rays brightening our little island this week.

I feel the need for a soap box. A little one perhaps but can’t understand why men in particular don’t go through their wardrobes and chuck away anything that makes them look pudgy, fuddy duddy, unappealing. And it all comes out at this time of the year somehow. Nasty old jumpers in dubious colours, fraying collars, pleated baggy cords, scuffed weekend shoes. It’s as if Saturday morning becomes the lets hunt the comfy frumpy stuff and put it all on in lots of lovely layers. Not to mention the weekend jacket, you know, the smelly old reliable… lots of practical pockets with remnants of last year’s tissues or god help us, crusty handkerchiefs hiding in each compartment. And that’s if they don’t have children or dogs or go fishing.

The alternative… just wonder around Hyde Park over weekend and one can spot the image conscious Italian gent layered in cashmere a mile away. So effortless, so right.

A note on cashmere:

It is no small wonder that cashmere is one of the most precious and prized commodities in the world. It comes from the downy underfleece of the cashmere goat which makes its home in the highest and most inhospitable plateaux of Mongolia and Xinjiang. Each year one goat produces a meagre 4.5 oz of under fleece, which is painstakingly combed out every spring by nomadic herdsmen. It takes the hair of one goat to make a scarf and two or three for a jumper depending on the weight… 60% of each fleece is discarded.

Thank you cashmere goats, much appreciated.

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