I like to imagine myself in different characters. The character can last anywhere from a couple hours to a full day – it's whatever I fancy. For example, sometimes on my way to work, I play the intellect and do a (Monday) New York Times crossword, arranging my face in a look of concentration as I make my way to Westminster, amongst politicians and James Bond types. 'She must be doing a Sunday puzzle', I imagine everyone observing, as I type in E-O-N-S for 5-across...or is it I-O-N-S?
But this Saturday I pretended to be a furniture personal shopper, on the hunt for my client's dream lamp or vase, whatever you'd have it. I made my way to the Princess May carboot sale in Dalston (the British version of a flea market, a mix of a yard sale and a flea) at 7:30am in a very considered outfit – specifically some colorful cozy trousers and hiking boots to get that kooky North London look. But, as I was sitting on the Overground amongst the type of people who would be up and at 'em on a Saturday …