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I’ve never liked Ascot. On the occasions when I have dressed up and flogged across the south-east on a series of trains to get there, I have always regretted it. The pinching shoes, the faux-snobbery of the Royal Enclosure, the traipsing around the grandstand that resembles an airport crossed with a shopping mall, the feigned interest in equestrianism, the footballers in toppers and tails. All in all, I find it hollow. But there’s a certain sadness here; I want to like Ascot. I want to see what others see: the champers, the races, the hats, the larks, the British at play. Instead, I just find it a bit naff; the Season equivalent of nude tights à la Pippa Middleton.  Getting into the Royal Enclosure is considerably easier than in bygone

Prius owners are always demanding more legislation against drink driving, but an advantage of living in America is that if you are too trashed to drive home, your 15-year-old kid can pick you up from the bar. The only problem with this is that we Americans love reckless driving too much to let anyone else take the wheel. Drink driving is one of our great illegal freedoms. Actually, it’s called ‘buzzed’ driving in the States, and as we like to say, ‘it’s only illegal if you get caught.’  Driving while intoxicated is about the rights enshrined in the Constitution Justin Timberlake was caught indeed in the early hours of Tuesday

You will almost certainly have noticed that Taylor Swift is making her way across the UK. Even in the crowded news marketplace – an election, Euro 2024, poorly royals – she is, just by virtue of playing some concerts, consuming a lot of airspace and column inches. We see endless vox popping of her fans, of all ages, gushing about their idol. I can relate to an extent. Like any normal young girl growing up in the 21st century, I sought solace in the music of Taylor Swift. When my heart hurt after I’d found out Ed Bentley had told another girl he loved her on MSN, she soothed me