Black Leather

I bought a bargain kilt yesterday, £11.99 down from £49.95, all it needs is a new strap - easy to sort, I thought.

I've unpicked a battered old handbag, only to find it was plastic. Then I remembered my old black leather coat, which has been cannibalised several times already for spares. Managed to find it in a cupboard; the leather's a bit thinner but it will do.

The coat brings back memories of my early years in Edinburgh when I hardly ever went out without it: of the silly buttons I put on it when I lost one of the originals: of walking home from work down William Street, past the interesting little shops, to the room at the top of a Manor Place townhouse, while singing 'Hey, there, Georgy Girl....' Gosh, that was a long time ago. Suffice to say, the coat would now be several sizes too small but still comes in useful now and again.

All I have to do is cut a suitable piece, punch some holes and stitch it on, then I'm ready for the next Burns Supper, which is probably the only time I'll wear it (unless I convert it into trousers).