Excess baggage
Then there’s the footwear mountain: strappy sandals, boots, courts and wedges along with the two pairs of shoes that I actually wear. Alexea, a woman I met recently, has given over an entire room (10ft x 15ft) to her colour-coordinated collection of shoes. And it’s not just women. Robin Dutt, of this parish, uses his kitchen as a closet extension. He doesn’t have a cooker or a fridge and never cooks, so it makes perfect sense to him.
A weekend visit from Robin invariably involves him arriving with at least six changes of outfit – he has been known to undergo three sartorial transformations over the course of one evening. And that doesn’t include the period gems he snaps up from one of the glorious vintage clothes shops scattered along George Street or the high street. It is almost impossible to browse these ancient highways and not come back with excess baggage. Butlers Emporium and the aptly named The Wardrobe are particular danger points, with an eclectic mix of nearly new and 1940s and 1950s classics.
Rock House is now home to several suitcases of irresistible buys waiting to be housed on hangers in the cupboards that never seem to get built. These ‘must have’ (yet to be worn) items share a lot in common with those that do sometimes make it as far as Heathrow and back.
According to a Debenhams study, four out of five women pack three times as much as they need and return with two thirds of it unworn. Easily done. Cruise passengers are the worst (or luckiest) offenders. Freed from the tyranny of paying an airline premium for overpacking, it’s possible to take almost every dress you have ever bought.
Holidays in the UK pose particular problems. The weather, for instance; an obvious excuse to take every conceivable outerwear option. And your fellow travellers. Mark claims that men simply don’t ask each other: ‘What outfits are you taking?’ Their loss, if you ask me. But at least it leaves them free to carry the extra bags.
Next week: House colours.