Rob Rinder: London men greet summer in Khaki shorts and novelty t-shirts. I do admire their confidence

Natasha Pszenicki
WEST END FINAL

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The sun has decided to pay one of its brief flying visits. This is England, so we’ve got about a week of real magnificence before everyone gets irretrievably burnt or sticky. London, as always, looks stunning in the sun, but then everyone benefits from good lighting. One sunny day, I swear I saw Croydon town centre look mildly pleasant.

As we cast off our duffle coats, I’ve been struck by how differently men and women respond to summertime. On the whole, London’s women seem to get it right — gorgeous, tasteful, flawless. But London’s men… well, they seem to go a different way. It’s not a criticism — it’s actually pretty inspiring.

Men flaunt their bulging tums in yellowing vests, their armpit hair flowing in damp rococo curls like some pubic Forest of Dean. They confidently wear khaki shorts that stop just above their ankle (prepping for some sudden flood) then add sandals bristling with toenails that could star in X-Men. That’s before I even get to the novelty t-shirts.

They clearly don’t give a damn and I say more power to their pimply elbows. It’s delightful when people dress for themselves and no-one else. I wish we all felt so free. It may not always be easy on eye, but being secure in yourself is always fabulous.

As we inch — slowly, painfully — towards Freedom Day, I’ve begun reflecting on some strange lessons from the last year or so. I never thought it possible but there’s been some tiny positives to set against the incalculable awfulness of lockdown.

One place where there’s been a strange, unintended benefit is the limits on wedding attendance. I know that for many it’s been heartbreaking, but for others I wonder if they’ve been a bit liberating? The 30-person cap has meant people have had to pick those who matter most. They can wave goodbye to distant cousins and long-forgotten schoolmates and no-one can resent it because it’s The Rule.

Weddings have ceased to be a crowd of obligatory invitees. Instead they’ve become magic concentrations of joy and connection. It’s an odd reminder of what’s important; let’s hope we hold on to it when life gets back to normal.

I’ve been given an MBE but I’ll never feel I deserve it

When the email from “the Cabinet Office” dropped — ominous subject matter — I was sure it held something dreadful. Prosecution for something or other? Did I pay for all those Calippos? An inquiry into my controversial rumba on Strictly? I ungummed the flap, thinking they’ve got the wrong man. Then I read the letter and the world went all floaty. I’d been given an MBE. But my euphoria lasted three glorious milliseconds before the thought returned, “They’ve definitely got the wrong man.”

This was a year when countless first responders, doctors and nurses placed their bodies selflessly between us and Covid. What matched up to that? But then I got a call from my mum and it all made sense — she’s been given one too.

We’d officially got it for the same reason. Holocaust education. But where she’d worked countless hours on behalf of a global community of Holocaust survivors to educate the world, I had done far less, focusing attention towards her and the work of the ‘45 Aid Society and Holocaust Education Trust. I can’t rid myself of the feeling that I got my gong riding on the coattails of other people’s hard work and my incredible, indefatigable mum. I’ll never feel I deserve my honour — but I know she does.

Oh and if it’s Princess Anne pinning mine on: Your Highness, do get in touch, I’d love to coordinate outfits.

What do you think about the Queen’s birthday honours list? Let us know in the comments below..

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