I sometimes worry about the age-inappropriate nature of my cultural tastes. I am 40 but I still love high-school comedies, despite the subject matter revolving around adolescent dilemmas played out by actors young enough to be my children. I still buy clothes from Topshop when I should probably be ordering sensible grip-soled slippers from catalogues, and I switch over to Radio 1 when the afternoon drama is on Radio 4 (particularly if said drama features a British actor pretending to be American; they are the worst).