Let us all rise to acclaim the local shop, the little independent establishment that always seems to have exactly what you went in for. These places are not many in number, so we must be sure to celebrate those that remain with us. Their prices might – might – be a little higher than a bloated multiple owned by some faceless private equity operation, but surely, if this is the case, it is a price worth paying.

I find most shopping rather like watching my football team – a reliable source of disappointment. It’s not that I’m a particularly exacting customer. All I ask is for someone to serve me; ideally someone who doesn’t appear unhappy about taking my money off me. If they’re actively cheerful, helpful or knowledgable, so much the better. It’s not much to ask, is it? When I tell you what I’m looking for, please don’t look at me like an idiot for asking. In a health food shop the other day, I enquired as to the whereabouts of the nut roasts and she looked at me as if I’d asked for moonrock.

I often feel unwelcome before I’ve even troubled anyone for help. It may be that I’m damaged from an unhappy experience I had in an Armani shop in Knightsbridge 20 years ago. Not my kind of establishment, but I needed some trousers – and when you need trousers, you need trousers. When I mentioned this to the meeter-and-greeter, she told me: “We don’t really do large sizes.” I grunted and shambled out, broken.

Just give........

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