"I must have this scarf, I love it. One hundred pounds, bargain. This is the coolest scarf in town ."

Richard, no, don't you get it the Skellys want to run London and turn all you Londoners into Mexican dishwashers and Polish street cleaners, buying this scarf shows them you are part of their gang and it could be dangerous. Can't you find another scarf, what about that stripy one instead?

"SP, don't be silly. You are talking codswallop. Get out my way, this is the last purple Skelly scarf, I love it and I am buying it and no one is stopping me with some Skelly conspiracy nonsense. Move along you are blocking the cash register, lass."

A fellow male trendy hipster grabbed the scarf out of Richard's hands.

"I"ll have that if you and your missus are fighting over it, my mate Johnny has one an' he says all the birds love it and it is a good conversation starter. It is the last one so if you don't want it, I will happily relieve you of it, matey."

"Hands off my scarf , she is not my missus, she is a princess and belongs to no one as of yet, whilst I obey her every command with pleasure I must draw the line at wardrobe restriction. The scarf is mine but I understand there is a waiting list and you can have your own within the next 6 months. Good luck now if you will excuse me." Richard whipped out his Amex and a minute later he was strolling around Berkeley Square and sure enough the ladies were oowing and ahing over the aforesaid Skelly purple cashmere scarf.

"See,"said Richard,"the scarf is a winner."

I shook my head, does no one get it.