I missed out on flares, twice. First time I was too young, second too old. Even so, at various points in between I remember feeling the world was my oyster, waiting and ready for me to shuck and suck. As arrogantly confident as I might have felt at those times, though, my family tell me I was never hip. I might have felt cool, but it seems my feeling was never visible to others.
Of course, those days are long gone. My children wouldn’t tolerate attempts to look trendy now: it’s not how parents should behave, apparently. Anyway, I am more comfortable simply playing to type these days. Tweed jackets are comfortable after all. And, like me, they’ve stood the test …