Refuse my gifts at your peril

‘I always try to make it clear a gift from me is an open-and-shut transaction. I give and you receive’

Sorry, we were wrong. Feel free to walk past a wash basin

It reminded me of someone apologising for bad hair in the seventies and bad clothes in the eighties

‘A bribe is so much more stylish than a threat’

‘Forgive me for being vulgar but would $50 help you find us seats?’ says my gallant companion

A licence for utter sloth

‘To have eight hours in which it is considered mildly heroic to stay seated is a tremendous luxury’

Blessings from the counter life

A friend who has become a gourmet marshmallow tycoon wants to crack the savoury end of the market

A lesson in birdsong

I grew up destined to be Nancy, but it has occurred to me that I am getting more like Fagin with each day

Matters of life and death

Asking ‘Was the book therapeutic to write?’ insults the art of writing (and possibly the business of living, too)

Flights of fancy dress

The outfits occupied that tiny overlap where seaside landlady and convent girl collide

Happy to be speechless

‘There are people with real problems out there, why are we creating fake hardship?’

Don’t try for me, Argentina

All my life, perhaps since the age of seven, people have told me how much I would love Buenos Aires

Noble calling of a tray-bearing aunt

The play made you feel that the life you were living now, with all its quirks, was a fine one, perhaps the best

The Henry James guide to parenting

We are so bedimmed by the glamour of teenagers that we mistakenly bow to their every whim

Being offered a self-helping hand

While talking to one of the greatest actors of our times, he recommended a book that might benefit me

Spring clean at your peril

A house that bears few or no clues as to the life that is lived there is discreet, certainly, but is it a home?

The bland leading the rebrand

Sometimes all you want is a piece of fish so fresh it doesn’t taste of anything at all

The subtle art of going all-out

I like the feeling of giving something my best shot. It tickles me and makes me feel alive

Read this and weep

If you have ever had reading as a passion, it can be painful to see it regarded as an antiquated pursuit

Hopeless and romantic

Must romance, by its very nature, always be fleeting, a glimpse of something about to happen?

Cheery by chance, not design

I am all for cheering yourself up, of course I am, but the preparation, the rituals, the rules . . . 

It’s my party and I’ll fine if I want to

Leaving the party early with the four nicest people would incur an on-the-spot fine of £10


Susie BoytSusie Boyt writes a column on shopping for the FT Weekend supplement. She is a novelist and lives in London.

E-mail Susie Boyt

To receive an email alert for Susie Boyt , sign up at the top of any hercolumns.

Enter job search