A word on style

Rikki has never been one to spend any time or money on his appearance. For those of you who see him during the work week (whatever that is nowadays), he is in a uniform provided by myself and Beanie: navy trousers, navy sweater, black socks and shoes and whatever shirt he chooses from a pre-edited pile. At the weekend, well who cares? He is left to his own devices. Rob, on the other hand, is naturally stylish and is curated by his even more chic and endlessly stylish wife, Nyree. Lots of fnarr fnarr jokes were made about speedo briefs (for all of you who thought you were the only ones to pass comment, you are not as original as you think). It was a relief to know that Raffi would be acquiring sports attire for the teams. The white cotton polo shirts are produced (we used to call them airtex but there you go, am not one to bear a grudge). Next up, the track suits appeared. A lurid green shiny monstrosity made of something closer to its original chemical composition than any actual fabric. "Airwick"Raffi informs us. "Wicks the sweat away." Mothproof was Rob's analysis. Radioactive I concluded. Even Rikki raised an eyebrow. He does like his natural fibres albeit vintage ones. As the equivalent of footballers wives, the rest of us are just happy to not have to follow suit. Temperature check: Yetevan 95 degrees Farenheit.