Vital Vidal

Seven years ago, I bought a Vidal Sassoon hairdryer for the princely sum of £12.99; 1800 watts, folding handle, 2 heat/speed settings, worldwide dual voltage, cool shot button, 2-year guarantee. Seven years down the line, it is still in perfect running order. In all the time I have had it, it has never given any trouble; coughed, spluttered or conked out while in use. Indeed, its lack of temper and even temperament is in direct opposition to the hank of hair that it routinely grooms.

Compact and streamlined, the brand name emblazoned in plain, white lettering on its shiny black casing, using it is rather like being in the company of one of those maddeningly well-spoken, ex-public school kids who never err, whether by word, deed, or gesture. How you long to see these scions of the well-to-do betray emotion, sprout dishevelled hair and effect slurred speech, just for once.

I am certain that these people have vices. Indeed, I know it. Yet somehow, they keep their private personae just that, private. Maybe that is the essence of good breeding? Meanwhile I have my hairdryer for company – and example.