‘Where have you BEEN!!?’, the huddled and lost legions of Lusso adherents cry as we stride back through the door exactly like the confident antagonist in that great epic narrative of abandonment and resolve, Gloria Gaynor’s I Will Survive. The difference is our readers can’t change that stupid lock nor do we have that sad look on our faces (as if). We’re pretty confident that far from being not welcome anymore, we’re very welcome. So as we put our crocodile leather house slippers back on and get comfy in our favourite Arne Jacobsen Oxford 9193c office chair (hello, my old leathery friend) let me tell you a story.
Whilst not all magazines are as refined, classy and discerning as the one you currently peruse, they sometimes, like the proverbial stopped clock telling the right time twice a day, get it right. So a while back, as I was queueing with some cashews in the purgatory that is the Highgate’s Tesco Express (we can’t always get to Paxton and Whitfield) I spied on the shelf the tabloid rag that is housewife’s fave, ‘Take a Break’. Whilst I had no interest in losing four stone for Christmas or what Ant ‘n’ Dec’s bedroom secrets were, I was drawn to the central thesis.
It was indeed time to ‘take a break’. As we explore further in our piece on Henry Cookson’s grand adventures, time is the greatest luxury that the exhausted and stressed modern individual can acquire. It now polls far higher than high-end possessions and even job status as a thing of desire. So whilst our publisher went and learnt to fly his plane and joined a Nepalise fighting monastery, your humble and dedicated editor dedicated himself to mindfulness practice and developing a new method of bread dough proofing. But now there’s no need to firstly be afraid. Or petrified. Lusso’s back (in print), baby. Now bend over.