The great thing about being 34 is when a boy in a nightclub thinks you're 23, you think you don't actually need the expensive Advanced Signs Stop Ageing Cream from Clinique anymore and that all is rosy and well. Until you remember that you've been in Blanche DuBoisesq lighting and you're wrinkles aren't showing. This same boy, who was dancing next to me, went to Applecross High, a bizarre coincidence given we were in a dank and dingy dance hall in Glasgow. There ended our similarities as he was born in 1987. A true child of the Howard era.