Wrists of Fury

They don't look much do they? But I've been meaning to blog properly about these little beauties for months now, as they're just about the only things that have been everywhere with me over the winter. I originally found them in the Brora catalogue - a favourite of my Mum's - way back in September, but it took me a while to actually get to the delightful shop on that centre of civility, London's Marylebone High St. As a man with oddly lengthy limbs (my friends call them the 'Long Arms of the Law'), these seemed the perfect thing for when coats, jumpers and shirts don't quite fit properly. This is virtually all of my long-sleeved items, but as I don't have the money to go bespoke, I have generally made do with rolling up my sleeves. From purchase day, I have worn them probably 90% of the times I've stepped out of the house, the other 10% being when they were in my bag. The mid-grey colour happily sits alongside any other colour (except perhaps light grey); the cashmere is soft yet durable and they are flexible enough for me to wear just around my wrists (which I'm certain I've seen at some fringe menswear show in AW07) or for me to retract my entire hands into. They also make convenient Oyster/entrycard holders. They are utterly functional: unlike gloves, I can do up my coat or use a mobile communications device when wearing these, and they can be rolled down away from my hands when they get a little too warm. I know winter's drawing to a close (I'm on the lookout for a transition coat; Topman's crimson double-breasted mac has my vote so far) but I can't recommend these wristwarmers highly enough; in fact I've been extolling their virtues to just about everyone I meet - so much so that many of my friends have invested, and my Mum now has a pair of rather fetching grape-coloured ones. Like Mum, like Son. So thanks Mum for, well, everything; but in this case for some sartorial inspiration and an absolute Staple. Other Staples this week:
Cashmere wristwarmers
The choral music of Mäntyjärvi, as performed by my friend Jen
Topman's double-breasted crimson mac
Jens Lekman's fantastic album 'Night Falles over Kortedala'
Having a weekend back in your home town
My Godfather's inaugural lecture at SOAS
Jumbo records in Leeds and their lovely staff

Cold Comfort Advice

Unfortunately, it's finally hit me. That fucking cold that goes around the office, gradually taking out your podmate and your boss, but which you seem to stay immune from. I staved it off during the weekend, but three nights of varying degrees and genres of indulgence have done it. My tonsils are back and this time they're bigger than before. I've been through this many times; I've no idea why. I think it might have something to do with a slightly hectic lifestyle, not really eating properly (different types of cheese for dinner and lunch is not a varied diet), but every few months or so, my tonsils suddenly decide to take over my throat and stop anything being enjoyable. I'm always quick to dose up with spoonfuls of honey, Dolitabs (miraculously tasty French paracetomol), vitamin C, Echinacea, Strepsils, Lemsip, and whatever else I have lying around in the cupboards, but this stuff is the best. It tastes so minty that it makes your eyes water; and spraying it into your throat is not the most attractive of propositions, but damn, it's good. It's immediate, portable, and a fetching shade of emerald green. The only bad part is that as I'm writing this, it's in my desk drawer at work; a photo will follow shortly. It's neither glamorous, nor expensive, but this is the one thing that I have for colds that I know is actually going to make me feel better. Once again, Boots prove that they are the best in the land. All hail the pharmacists! Aside from a stinking cold, other Staples this week include:
Antiseptic throat spray
Brora grey cashmere wristwarmers
Obscure Teutonic bleeps from a certain curly-haired mate's iPod
The Big Chill House in King's Cross
Having friends who can help with legal stuff
Hovis 'Seed Sensations' bread
A hot, well-brewed, sweet cup of tea