I’ve never been particularly keen on going round the shops for clothing.  It was always painful when we had social engagemnts ahead that required the most dreaded thing for me . . . . the wife’s new dress!  Oh my goodness that was always a nightmare and it still surprises me today that we managed to stay married for so long – the arguments that ensued from the wrong comment . . .    I would try to get out of the 4 hour ordeal of trooping from one high street store to another – there were never enough chairs for the poor husband.  Now if the store managers thought about it, by making sure the husband, generally the eventual bill payer, was happy and comfortable, Madam could relax, be flattered by the floor walker’s enthusiasm and gradually persuaded to look at the more expensive lines available.  The air of bon homme would be such that Sir wouldn’t notice that extra couple of hundred for the matching stole, handbag and kitten heels!