Ireturned from a recent holiday to Morocco with three mementos: a bright red pair of swimming trunks (teenager-sized; the largest the supermarket had), a bright red nose (thanks to my unscientific aversion to sun cream) and a bright red fez. I’ve always wanted to own a fez and since purchasing it in a Marrakesh souk – ‘For you, sir, special price’ – I have been besotted with it. I’ve worn it on the Tube, to a pub quiz and around the Spectator of…
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