The joys of Lakeland

I’ve only been 41 for a month and, finally, my age has caught up with me.

Not in the way of appearance, of course – I’ve been getting “Mummy! You’ve got bags under your eyes!” for yonks now – but in outlook.

Walking through Mirdiff City Centre the other week, with a surprise hour to spare, I realised that I was finding the usual clothes shops very boring. I mean, clothes-shmothes – once you’ve got some, who needs more?

Instead, I found myself drawn to Lakeland – the shop about which I used to tease my mother when, every time I went home, she’d present me with yet another oblique kitchen gadget – you know, things like milk-frothers and mango-splitters for which a childless person who eats out five nights a week and even orders in her cappuccino has absolutely no use.

The Lakeland mango-splitter. Put it on your Christmas list.

But things, they’re different now. Now I’m a 41-year-old Housewife with two children, I see the value of a yellow plastic banana protector and of a baking paper that’s greaseproof on one side and foiled on the other (genius!).

I could have spent hours in Lakeland. Every item I picked up was the answer to a question I’ve asked or an irritation I’ve felt at some point in my life as a Housewife.

Baking beads; wooden lolly sticks; tubs in which to store the unused half of the apple, tomato or onion (what will I do with the empty margarine tubs?); bread bags; storage solutions; shelving maximisers; cupcake papers in every conceivable size; sandwich toasting bags; silicone cake moulds; bake ware beyond belief; and my personal favourite: Non-slip, leopard-print clothes hangers – just think, no more silk tops lying crumpled on my shoes (yes please!).

I was too overwhelmed to buy anything on that first, wide-eyed visit, but I’ve got to admit: I’ve since reinvestigated the dusty mango-splitter and my opinion’s changed: If you like mangoes, it’s brillsville.

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