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Monday

Rob Crossan

A middle-aged man’s guide to ageing gracefully

Middle-aged men might be feeling persecuted at the moment. But we bring so much of the opprobrium upon ourselves. The MasterChef host Gregg Wallace has, it should be remembered, not been charged with any crime. But the allegations of his inappropriate, predatory and downright cringe-worthy behaviour towards women have inspired the kind of reaction among my male colleagues and friends that I haven’t heard the likes of since the arrival of David Brent and The Office some 20-plus years ago. Nobody finds your Tommy Cooper impression funny because the only other person old enough to remember Tommy Cooper is outside hectoring a stranger about the smoking ban ‘You don’t understand,

Julie Burchill Julie Burchill

When did the Beckhams become minor royals?

Seeing the snaps of David Beckham, Victoria in tow, smirking like the cat that got the cream-covered canary at the King’s state banquet for the Qatari royals, I was in two minds. It pleased me to think of Meghan angrily slamming the doors of her 17 toilets, as the trophy couple the Sussexes once saw as friends so firmly showed their allegiance in the ongoing War of the Windsors. But on the other hand, there’s something rather unappealing about a monarchy which sups with showbiz, using a short spoon. We’ve just seen in the example of the American election how profoundly unimpressed people are when the powerful, rich and famous

John Sturgis

The tragedy of Anne Boleyn’s childhood home

Hever Castle was the childhood home of Anne Boleyn and played a not insignificant part in the Henry VIII story. The smitten despot, already planning his divorce from sonless Catherine of Aragon, would ride over from his hunting lodge at nearby Penshurst Place to woo Anne there. Then, when things didn’t work out as he’d hoped, Henry seized Hever from her family and gave it to wife number four, Anne of Cleves, as part of the settlement when he was divorcing rather than beheading her, as he had poor Anne Boleyn. The first thing that I heard when I arrived in a teeming car park was the voice of Mariah

Friday

Penworthy

Two bets for the next two weekends

The two big races tomorrow, the BoyleSports Becher Chase at Aintree and the Betfair Tingle Creek Chase, could hardly be more different contests. The former is a 12-runner competitive handicap run over three miles and two furlongs on the Grand National course, the latter is an eight-runner Grade 1 race, with all the horses running off the same weight, over a shade under two miles. The Becher (Aintree 2.07 p.m.) is a keen betting contest, while the Tingle Creek (Sandown, 3p.m.) has an odds-on favourite in Jonbon, who has never been out of the first two in 18 runs and, given his consistency, it is difficult to find each-way value

Arabella Byrne

There’s something smug about a Nehru jacket

At a recent drinks party in Oxfordshire, I counted five men wearing Nehru waistcoats. Not one of these men looked like he was paying homage to the garment’s namesakes, Indian Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru. Not one looked as if they were genuinely taken with Indian fashion nor remotely bothered that they were wearing the same thing. I detect a hint of smugness in there somewhere, a rather-too-pleased-with-itself appropriation Puzzled, I thought back to other men I’ve seen rocking the Nehru: Imran Khan, obviously; Nicholas Coleridge, probably; Mick Jagger, surely. I’m not sure what all these men have in common, but their take-up of the Nehru waistcoat has neither surprised nor

Sean Thomas

London is getting worse

A famously elitist members’ club, a 900-year-old meat market, and a traditional old barbershop may not feel like they have much in common. In fact, they didn’t – not until the last week or two, when they all simultaneously closed in their disparate parts of London. The first closure, that of the Groucho Club, has been widely covered in these pages, generally with an overtone of chortling. After all, it is hard to feel sorry for a place that is notoriously exclusive, boasts a world-class art collection, and charges members £1,500 a year for the privilege of eating near a Damien Hirst – or indeed eating near Damien Hirst. It

Flora Watkins

How The Box of Delights became a Christmas cult classic

At this time of year, switching on the radio to hear the twinkling harp at the start of ‘The First Nowell’ from Hely-Hutchinson’s Carol Symphony has a profound Proustian effect on an entire generation. It takes us back to our childhood living rooms in 1984, sitting cross-legged in front of a boxy TV with a 14-inch screen, bewitched by the most exciting, terrifying and Christmassy programme we had ever seen. Part of the nostalgia comes from knowing that this wonderful series would probably never be made now As a bookish child who lived largely in my head, I thought the BBC had made The Box of Delights especially for me.

Wednesday