It’s my birthday today. And it’s disappointing. Not one person I know had the foresight to read my mind and discover that I want this ridiculous Valentino jacket (a jacket which I’ve never mentioned to anyone because I only noticed it a minute ago on Colette, and I thought it’d be amusing to dress up like Friedrich von Trapp for like ten minutes) then travel back in time, spend a trifling £4435.96 on it and have it delivered to me before I knew I wanted it. I know, I know…  And I make such an effort for other people’s birthdays.