These are a few of Isabel Webster’s favourite things…

Holidays

Before children, I considered myself an adventurous traveller. I’d spent months in Ecuador as an 18-year-old, I’ve Interrailed across Europe, backpacked around Rajasthan, ridden on horseback through Petra, been white-water rafting in Quebec, slept under the stars in the desert in Jordan, braved many walking Safaris in Southern Africa and climbed Mount Kinabalu in Borneo on my honeymoon. But, alas, the pitter-patter of tiny feet has clipped my wings significantly. That being said, I still live to travel and long for a warm climate whenever I’m in Blighty. I adore the sensory pleasure of different foods, smells, architecture and cultures. Holidays just tend to revolve around buckets and spades and short-haul flights for now… Luckily we have no shortage of beautiful beaches to choose from, with the South of France being our destination of choice these days.

Interiors

Both my parents are architects, so I grew up around drawing boards and design. But, whilst I have a good appreciation of architecture, it has always been interiors that have really interested me. As a teenager, when I would babysit, I would spend the whole evening rearranging my employers’ living room — in my head. I always thought I could improve most spaces. I believe to have a truly beautiful home you need the holy trinity of: time, money and taste. Very few people ever possess all three (especially these days) — I certainly don’t. But, Instagram has been wonderful for satisfying my hungry eye. I love nothing more than killing time at a train station or in a dentist’s waiting room by perusing the very many wonderful interior accounts that I follow.

Cleaning

It is a sad fact that one of my favourite things to do is the laundry. I feel immense satisfaction whenever I empty the laundry basket and I’m sure a psychologist would say there is some reason why I feel such happiness from cleaning clothes. It makes me feel like a good mum, even though that’s clearly nonsense. Don’t get me started on fabric conditioner… is there anything that smells better? It’s no surprise to me that Mrs Hinch has been such a huge hit — cleaning is therapeutic.

Walking

Walking is unfashionable. The sort of thing Theresa May or Angela Merkel would do on their summer holidays. But it is underrated. I love the sense of perspective you get from walking through a big wood, up a huge hill or under an expansive sky. And I love the opportunity it gives for good conversations with whomever you’re with. I have my best ideas, intentions or epiphanies when walking. If I’ve had a row or a bad time at work, I’ll always feel better after a turn around the block.

I pine mainly for the hills near where I grew up. I feel sure I know every loop, every view, every picnic spot, with walks passed down through generations of my family. But I also love London for walking. If we lived in the countryside I’m sure I’d drive much more. As it is, I walk my children everywhere — to school, the playground, playdates and afterschool activities — and I love it.

Dancing 

For me, there is no greater way to let my hair down than on a dance floor. I am always first up to dance; the emptier the dancefloor the better. Give this woman some space! My husband and I used to dance all night, until well past dawn, when we first met. Now it is mostly dancing around the kitchen with the children. But, they also love to dance, and I’m so happy to see them share our enthusiasm. It always clears the air, lightens the mood and gets the endorphins rushing; it’s good exercise too. 

Enjoyed Isabel Websters’ favourites? Explore last week’s Favourite Things here.

These are a few of Helen Fields’ favourite things…

Insects

I grew up in the New Forest and my childhood was spent in the woods catching bugs; I even went through a stage where my mum would find snails and all sorts hidden in my bedroom. Then, we lived in Southern California for three years until the pandemic and I refound my love for insects there. I was suddenly surrounded by black and brown widow spiders, scorpions, mantises, tarantula hawks and things like that. I could go into the garden and find these really amazing bugs; a lot of my time between writing was spent going around with a cup looking for bugs. I find insects fascinating as they are so alien to us and live this brutal kill-or-be-killed life. The day after we arrived in California I picked up a brown widow that I thought was dead and was looking at it very close up when it suddenly jumped up and started crawling over my hand. That was a close call. 

Fires 

Lighting a fire, whether it is inside on a log fire or outside on a bonfire, is one of the real joys of life for me. I suspect this goes back to my childhood in the New Forest too, every Sunday my parents would burn up everything they dug out of the garden and we would throw a baked potato in some foil and put it in the ashes at the edge of the bonfire. That wood smoke smell, when the fire first starts burning, is so evocative. When I light a fire it signifies a time to sit down and be quiet, it is a real switch-off button for me. It means I stop time for a moment and start relaxing.

Peter Jones 

The artist Peter Jones largely does paintings of stuffed toys, which sounds ridiculous but I walked into a gallery some time ago and there was a wall of these portraits of over-loved stuffed toys and I couldn’t look away. My son has a toy called Froggy which I first bought when I was pregnant. We have had him for 18 years now and he has had pretty much every part of his body replaced; Peter has agreed to do a painting of him. Peter found a load of portraits of Winston Churchill because he said that when he looks at Froggy he sees Churchill and that will be the inspiration for how he paints the toy. I love art, galleries and paintings and I haven’t seen anyone do what Peter Jones is doing. He has an extraordinary talent.

Scotland 

All of my books are set in Scotland. I love the cities, getting lost in the wilderness and exploring its history and castles. When I go to Scotland I feel a sense of gothic otherworldliness. It is wrapped in its own history, in a way that isn’t prideful exactly but that makes you feel these people aren’t just rushing to the future they’re taking their past with them and have a real sense of respect for it. The Scots also can talk like no one else on earth, they love telling stories and chatting. Scotland is very much wrapped up in stories and storytelling for me. Though I have never lived there, it is the home of my heart. 

Escaping with a friend

My husband and I have three children who we absolutely adore but it means if we go away together we have to find someone to look after them or take them with us, which changes the whole trip. When I get to go away with my girlfriends the laughter starts the moment we get to the airport or train station and it doesn’t stop. It is therapy. You go from talking rubbish to absolutely pouring your heart out and from laughing to crying in a heartbeat. I could pay for a year of therapy or go away for a weekend with my friends. It resets me. Whatever I have been worrying about they talk me through it, I think that’s what close friends are for. If I didn’t have that my life would be much less fulfilling. 

Enjoyed Helen Fields’ favourites? Explore last week’s Favourite Things here.

Thankfully, after a tough couple of years navigating the pandemic, festivals are back in full force this year and the escapism they provide is needed now more than ever.

Last weekend I headed to the sleepy town of Kings Lynn in Norfolk for Houghton, a 10,000-person electronic music festival founded by DJ and artist Craig Richards.

For a small festival, Houghton’s reputation precedes it —  though not for entirely all the right reasons. First launched in 2017, the festival has only run twice in five years, earning speculation that the grounds of Houghton Hall might be cursed; in 2019, it was cancelled due to stormy weather, then the pandemic struck and a mixture of lockdowns and issues with funding meant it was put on hold until 2022.

But, this year, nothing was stopping Richards and his team. The curse was lifted and what took place was nothing short of magical.

Surrounded by wild deer and well-manicured gardens, most of the festival takes place in the woodlands next to a large lake. With no map to guide you, the various stages have to be discovered in clearings and inside yurts by following the music. In the evening, visual projections light up the sky above the lake and reflect off the various sculptures scattered around the grounds: This is no ordinary muddy field with just a couple of loud speakers and a stage.

The sublime location was accompanied by non-existent phone signal or wifi, forcing festivalgoers into a much-needed digital detox (though it did make things tricky if you lost your friends). Switching off and surrounding yourself with good music and great company made for lots of smiling sweaty faces in the crowds.

Houghton has a unique 24-hour music license meaning no matter how late, or how early, in the day, the faint sound of bass somewhere could be heard in the distance. The DJs played sets lasting up to six hours and the quality of the sound systems is unrivalled. Dancing as the sun set behind the trees around us, it was hard to believe not so long ago we were living through a live music drought — desperate to hear the thud of the speakers once more. Highlights included Shanti Celeste, Optimo and Joy Orbison, all big names in the electronic music world who seemed as excited to be there as the festivalgoers.

Nestled in the woodland and shut off from the outside world, Covid, the cost of living crisis, climate change, war and any other issues waiting in the outside world were temporarily erased from our minds. Festivals are escapism in its purest form and the perfect way to forget your worries, at least for the weekend.

 The curse has been lifted and Houghton was worth the wait.

What to do

Take a morning yoga class in the Orchard

Though it may seem that festivals are about little more than drinking and dancing, many often have a strong wellness element to them and Houghton is no exception. For those wanting an active start to the morning, the Orchard offers complimentary yoga and movement classes throughout the weekend. Not only that, but there are life drawing sessions and meditation sound baths to join in with. There’s also a 15-person wood burner sauna on site and an array of masseuses, the perfect hangover remedy.

Explore the Sculpture Garden 

Houghton Hall’s renowned sculpture garden is open exclusively for festivalgoers over the August weekend. Catch the mysterious Houghton train down to the garden and explore the one-of-a-kind sculptural works from artists such as; James Turrell, Rachel Whiteread, Richard Long, Stephen Cox and Anya Gallacio.

Where to eat

The Turntable & Napkin

Perched on the corner of the lake at Houghton Hall is a floating restaurant. Brought to you by Oscar Toma, Andrea Marini with Chef Hakan Ceren, this is no ordinary festival food. Whether you need a proper breakfast ahead of a full day of dancing or to line your stomach before hitting up the bar, The Turntable & Napkin restaurant serves incredible food with views to match. It isn’t often you can eat pan-fried scallops and wild mushroom risotto with some of the world’s best DJs playing in the background.

Where to stay

Glamping over camping

If the thought of camping is enough to put you off a festival, worry not. Houghton offers a range of accommodation options from camping to glamping and live-in vehicles. You can find pre-pitched tents the Tangerine Fields, Airstreams caravans available to rent in Boutique Camping, as well as Hearthworks yurts, portobello bell tents (for a boho experience) and Luxury Vintage Canvas Tents, all of which will guarantee a good nights sleep.

These are a few of Stanley J Browne’s favourite things…

Slippers

I don’t wear shoes in my house. As soon as I come home the first thing I do is slip on my slippers. There is something about changing into slippers that makes me feel homely, safe, peaceful, tranquil and comfy. My slippers have to have a proper sole on them too, so I can wear them out in the garden. I change into my comfy clothes when I get home as well, but slippers are the highlight and the very first thing I do.

Afro comb

I don’t know what it is but as I have gotten older, something about combing my hair has become so therapeutic; it’s like getting a head massage. I find myself, not out of vanity, but for the feeling, coming home and combing my hair for a little while. I have a specific afro comb that has a fist on it, old school — so when I’m working or travelling, I carry that comb with me. I also wash my face, three or four times a day. It is the first thing I do before I eat — wash my hands and face. I like to feel clean and cleansed to relax and release stress. Combing my hair when I get home is part of that. 

 Vitamix

A Vitamix is not just any blender, it is a top-of-the-range blender. When this thing goes on it sounds like a Ferrari starting. I can’t be on the phone in the kitchen when it’s turned on, that’s how powerful it is. But what is great about the Vitamix is that you can throw ice in there or even make your own peanut butter in it. I play a lot of tennis so to get the electrolytes back I make smoothies for breakfast using watermelon, celery and avocado. The Vitamix makes it smoother than a normal smoothie. 

Guitars

I have two beautiful guitars: One is a Spanish guitar and the other is an acoustic guitar. I don’t get to play them as much as I would like but I still like to have them here. I couldn’t live without them. I taught myself to play when I was in my teens, I was inspired by Tracy Chapman after I saw her perform on Live Aid in the 1980s. She played “Talking About A Revolution” and then went and bought a second-hand guitar straight away and learnt to play by ear. One of the first songs I learned to play was Bob Marley’s “Redemption Song”. I found my way and started gigging, recording an album (which is on iTunes and Spotify) and have even rubbed shoulders with the lovely, wonderful Ed Sheeran — before he got famous. 

Autobiographies

I read a lot of autobiographies. I have recently finished reading David Harewood’s Maybe I Don’t Belong Here and have just started Viola Davis’. I have read a lot of self-help books too, I like to know what has happened to a person, why they are where they are, and what was their journey — whether they’re famous or not. My autobiography, due out in October, is called Little Big Man. I started it about 15 years ago and then just before lockdown, my inner voice told me it was time to pick up the book again and get it finished. I had met a ghostwriter so I sent her my draft during the lockdown, we wrote the proposal and sent it out for feedback and I got offered a publishing deal! They gave me a year to write it during the second lockdown, I wrote it in five months. 

We have so many reality television shows now and I feel like people want to hear your truth, they’re tired of Hollywood. I come from the other side of the tracks, the book is about a young man’s journey through his mum’s mental illness, children’s homes, foster parents, detention centres, prisons, drugs — you name it. And yet, I ended up at the Globe Theatre playing Romeo and Juliet and Othello. Not everyone comes out the other end and I am ready to share my story to hopefully help others. I am 51 now, I feel like I have lived enough life that the power of helping others is far greater than my fear of sharing my story. 

Enjoyed Stanley J. Browne’s favourites? Explore last week’s Favourite Things here.

These are a few of Pritika Chowdhry’s favourite things…

Family

My family is my absolute favourite thing — my husband, my bonus son, my daughter, and our three dogs. Funny story, I met my husband a few years back and I had two dogs at that time. I made it clear that I was a package deal, my dogs come with me and sleep with me in my bed. Our first date was brunch (with the dogs) but on the morning of our date, one of my dogs had the worst upset tummy. I wanted to cancel and go to the vet, but my now-husband assured me he knew just what to do. Most men show up to a first date with flowers, but he showed up with a can of prescription dog food, and from that moment I just knew this was the guy. He was the one. Now, we have a happy little family with our three dogs and two human puppies!

Art 

My artwork is my passion and purpose; it is my life’s work, my legacy. It’s an instrument of world change. I like to describe it as good trouble because it challenges the mainstream history and memory of geopolitical events. As a postcolonial feminist artist, I create anti-memorials to traumatic geopolitical events such as the Partition of India and 9/11, by excavating the counter-memories of the events, through the dual lenses of post-memory and diasporic dislocation.

Dogs

My dogs are my first children; I’ve had the oldest two since before I met my husband. We brought home our third dog on the day I found out I was pregnant with my daughter, so the dog and my daughter will be forever connected. Our dogs are so important to us that they were included in our wedding invitation — we were so focused on getting their little paw prints right, that we actually missed that the year was wrong on our wedding invitation… We just rolled with it, hand-corrected the year and sent them out. Our friends know we are crazy dog people.

Books

I have several bookshelves packed tight with all kinds of books; historical fiction, memoirs, classics, literature by South Asian authors and authors from countries all around the world, art history books, contemporary art books, scholarly books on memory culture, feminism, exhibition catalogues, art magazines and journals, dog training books… the list goes on. I draw my inspiration from the books I read. The Other Side of Silence by Urvashi Butalia presents path-breaking feminist historiography of the Partition of India, and centres on the experiences of women; Present Pasts by Andreas Huyssen analyses the politics of memory, monuments, and artworks; Ungrievable Lives by Judith Butler is a poetic critique of the invisible victims of America’s War on Terror in the Middle East. My copies of these books are full of annotations and highlighted because they inform my work deeply. 

Woman Made Gallery

The Woman Made Gallery — which has just celebrated its 30th birthday — is my favourite organisation and the longest-running feminist art gallery in Chicago. Founded in 1992, it is a unique non-profit art space for women and femme-identified artists that is founded on the principles of intersectional feminism, building allies and solidarity, and elevating artwork that focuses on women’s unique experiences and challenges. The founder, Beate Minkovski, is a charismatic champion of women artists of colour and LGBTQ artists. She was so welcoming and supportive of me when I first started my journey as an emerging artist in the early 2000s. Now, the gallery is run by the next generation of women artists and arts administrators and is still as inviting and inspirational as when I joined around 20 years ago. 

Enjoyed Pritika Chowdhry’s favourites? Explore last week’s Favourite Things here.

From Ian McKellen’s Hamlet at The Edinburgh Fringe to a drunken performance of Shakespeare and the latest eccentric Punchdrunk production, here is a guide to some of the best British theatre to see this summer.

Hamlet with Ian McKellen

Where: Edinburgh Fringe Festival, Scotland
When: 2 – 28 August

Over the course of his distinguished career, Ian McKellen has played Hamlet twice. The first time, in 1971, and then again last year. Now, aged 83, he is reprising his favourite speeches from Shakespeare’s famed works in the company of a troupe of Ballet dancers at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. The ballet troupe is choreographed by Danish ballet dancer, director and choreographer Peter Schaufuss and is set to be one of the best works of theatre to see at The Edinburgh Fringe. Buy tickets here.

South Pacific 

Where: Sadler’s Wells Theatre, London
When: 27 July – 28 August

In 1949, Rodgers & Hammerstein’s musical adaptation of Tales of the South Pacific by James A. Michener hit Broadway. Rodgers & Hammerstein had seen potential in Michener’s book for a powerful love story told through song that would also carry a progressive message about racism. Decades later, Chichester Festival Theatre revived South Pacific to critical acclaim and now the musical has made its way to London as part of a UK tour, directed by Jonathan Church. On-off lovers Emile de Becque and Ensign Nellie Forbush are played by Julian Ovenden and Gina Beck and there’s a cast of 30, a full orchestra, and all the classic songs to sing along to. Buy tickets here.

Punchdrunk: The Burnt City

Where: One Cartridge Place in Woolwich, London
When: Until 4 December 2022

If you have ever experienced Punchdrunk you will know it is no normal theatre experience. Immersive entertainment taken to the extreme, Punchdrunk performances are works of experimental non-linear theatre that place the audience (quite literally) in the middle of the action. There is no stage or seats, just one big set in which the audience and actors co-exist. Their latest offering, The Burnt City, takes audiences back to the fall of troy as a mythical world of Gods and mortals rises from the ashes as Greece teeters on the brink of victory. Nothing could ever prepare you for the world of Punch Drunk… Buy tickets now.

The Glass Menagerie 

Where: The Royal Exchange Theatre, Manchester
When: Until 2 September – 8 October

Following his smash-hit production of Hobson’s Choice, director Atri Banerjee is back with a reimagined version of Tennessee Williams’ semi-autobiographical masterpiece The Glass Menagerie. The production tells the story of Tom, Laura and their mother Amanda; Tom escapes his home life through cigarettes and long cinema trips, Laura withdraws into her collection of glass animals, whilst their mother obsesses over a better future for them all. When Tom brings home a potential suitor for his sister, a chance to change their fortunes arises in this bruising portrayal of family, love, loyalty and trauma. Buy tickets here.

Mad House

Where: Ambassadors Theatre, London
When: Until 4 September

This dark comedy stars David Harbour (best known for his role as Hopper in Stranger Things) and Bill Pullman (The Sinner, All My Sons, Independence Day). In rural Pennsylvania, Michael (Harbour), the black sheep of the family, has returned to his childhood home to care for his dying father Daniel (Pullman), a cruel patriarch. Before long, his siblings arrive and each begins to work out how much money their father might be leaving them. This family psychodrama from Theresa Rebeck is directed by Moritz von Stuelpnagel. Buy tickets here.

Sh!tfaced Shakespeare presents: Romeo and Juliet

Where: Leicester Square Theatre, London
When: 6 July – 10 September

Ever wondered what it would be like to see a work of Shakespeare performed drunk? Well, now’s your chance. Each night, Sh!tfaced Shakespeare takes one of the Bard’s most exciting works (this one is Romeo and Juliet) and selects a random cast member to drink for four hours prior to showtime. The rest of the actors are stone-cold sober and faced with the difficulty of acting alongside a very drunk castmate. Shakespeare’s work already contains “foul language, partial nudity, simulated acts of a sexual nature, attempted singing, full contact wrestling, full nudity, actual acts of a sexual nature and involuntary ‘tongue stuff,” says the company, “all we’re doing is adding a splash of booze to the mix.” It might not be the best theatre you’ll ever see, but it will definitely be the funniest. Buy tickets here.

These are a few of Brett Dean’s favourite things…

Tea

I like the flexibility of tea, how there are so many different types for different times of the day. Most of the time, I drink good old builders tea or English breakfast with a splash of milk. But I also drink green tea and herbal tea or sleepytime tea at night. Tea has a certain pause about it, it is a sort of cadence in the day and something that is easy to take for granted, but it is an important part of my day and something I treasure. Tea has more nuance than coffee, though I sometimes like a strong coffee too.

Music

As a musician and composer, music is undoubtedly one of the things that gets me up in the morning and motivates me to do what I do. A little like tea, because I am a professional musician, one can take it for granted but it is something that always thoroughly fascinates me. I love listening to the radio and not necessarily knowing what I am listening to. If it is classical then there is a chance I will know what the piece is, but even then I might not know who is performing it, which is an interesting listening exercise. All manner of music, the storytelling and expression that comes through these organised and sometimes less organised sounds, is one of the wonders of the world. 

Films 

Film has always been a source of inspiration for me. Cinema, like music, is an art form that evolves over a period of time, whereas painting, my wife Heather’s art form, for example, is set in time. Music and film are transitory. I have always been fascinated by how filmmakers go about the use of time in their art form as I often see parallels with how a piece of music might unfold. Sonically I have also always been intrigued by how sound is used in cinema, not just music. I particularly enjoy films when I can see them in the cinema, although I have just moved to a part of the country where the nearest cinema is quite a few miles away. Through lockdown, like many other people, my wife and I turned the family home into a cinema and co-created our own mini film festival working through themes such as courtroom dramas or John Houston films.

Owning a dog

I am very fond of our dog and the concept of being a dog owner, which is a new thing for me. It has been an added thrill in my life and she is asleep next to me right now. She is a Belgian Shepherd with some lurcher/greyhound in her. The Shepherd side of her makes her very loyal and a wonderful walking companion. One of the godsends during lockdown was to go walking with her. We were living near Newbury and have just moved to Wiltshire and it is wonderful to go walking through the fields and make use of the brilliant British public footpaths, which strangely, we don’t really have in Australia. 

Body surfing

I am not an especially active person, we musicians tend to sit a lot (or stand as a composer). I walk every day but I am often at something approaching my happiest when I am in the surf in Queensland, though I haven’t been back to Australia since the very early stages of the pandemic. The beaches of Queensland are something that I do miss; that sense of catching the wave with your body. I have never learnt board riding but I have always loved body surfing, there is something elemental and physically refreshing being tossed around by the foam of the waves. 

Enjoyed Brett Dean’s favourites? Explore last week’s Favourite Things here.

Over the years at school, I tried netball, hockey, cheerleading, athletics, tag rugby, tennis and a lot of cross country, but never football.

Not only did I not play football, I actively avoided watching it too. I found football chat between my brother and dad at the dinner table tiresome, and never joined a fantasy football league or picked a team to support. 

Then, last summer, I got into watching the Euros, cheering on the England men’s team and finally buying into the football hype. But it wasn’t until Sunday night, when the Lionesses made history by beating Germany 2-1 in the Women’s Euro 2022 final, bringing football home at long last, that I wished I was encouraged to play when I was younger. After all, Leah Williamson and her squad make it look like a world of fun.

The match was attended by 87,192 spectators and attracted an audience of 17.4 million on the BBC, making it the most watched women’s game of all time in the UK. And while it has been incredible to see people finally get behind women’s football, we owe it to the Lionesses not to leave their legacy at Wembley; it’s time football was for everyone. 

“Girls play netball and boys play football” seems to be an unfair stereotype that schools can’t shake. Earlier this month, figures published by England Football, part of the Football Association (FA), showed that 63 per cent of schools in England offer equal football coaching to girls and boys, but this number drops off to 44 per cent at secondary school level. 

England striker Alessia Russo told BBC Breakfast yesterday that she had to tag along to the boy’s after-school football club to be able to play the sport, despite not really being invited along, and had to initially join a men’s football club when she started playing seriously.

Meanwhile, the front page of the Bucks Herald from 1998 has recently gone viral, describing how nine-year-old Ellen White was banned from registering with the Chiltern Youth League, due to being a girl, much to her disgust. White has scored 52 goals at international level since making her Lionesses debut in 2010.

The determination of Russo, White and their teammates to play football despite the barriers they faced is a huge credit to their love for the sport and shows we have made a little progress, but still have a long way to go. It isn’t enough to just allow girls to play football, we have to encourage them too.

In an open letter to Rishi Sunak and Liz Truss asking the Tory leadership candidates to help them create real change and enable every young girl in the nation to have the option to play football at school, the Lionesses wrote: “We ask you and your government to ensure that all girls have access to a minimum of 2hrs a week PE. Not only should we be offering football to all girls, we need to invest in and support female PE teachers too.”

The letter comes just weeks after the Healthier Nation Index found that almost half of women don’t do regular exercise in the UK, with 47 per cent saying that they’ve done no vigorous weekly exercise, such as jogging or gym classes, in the past year.

Encouraging girls to play football at school — or any other sport they might be interested in — could very well translate into future generations of women who have a better relationship with exercise and healthier lifestyles as a result. If the government does the right thing and uses the momentum of the Euro final to get the nation moving, the legacy of the lionesses could help improve the lives of millions of women and girls.

“We — the 23 members of the England Senior Women’s EURO squad — ask you to make it a priority to invest into girls’ football in schools, so that every girl has the choice,” ends the letter. It would be a huge insult to these incredible players not to listen. 

One thing is for certain, my future daughters will be encouraged to play all the football — and eat all the Yorkie bars — they want, and I will tell them all about the Euro 2022 final and the Lionesses’ incredible victory.

These are a few of Alice Victoria Winslow’s favourite things…

BoJack Horseman 

It took me a while to finally watch this show, despite everyone I know swearing I would love it. I have trouble getting into animation sometimes, but I’ve finally started, and MAN OH MAN, AM I HOOKED. It’s some of the smartest writing on television — hilarious but so layered and profoundly moving as well. 

Babak Ganjei shop 

My friend Babak makes incredibly funny topographic artwork. I have a handful of his framed works and t-shirts, and they never cease to make me laugh. His sensibility is so unique but also so relatable. It’s especially gratifying to walk around wearing my “Dead Inside” t-shirt. I get a lot of funny looks, but when people smile, I know we’re on the same page. 

The Hudson Line 

I grew up in the Hudson Valley, in New York state, right on the banks of the Hudson River. It’s one of the most beautiful rivers in the world (yes, I’m biased and have not seen all the rivers in the world, but I stand by that superlative). The Metro-North train line that runs from Manhattan to Poughkeepsie along The Hudson is breathtaking, and though I’ve done the ride hundreds of thousands of times, it still puts me in a state of awe. That train brought my parents home to me from work every night as a kid and later became the train I took to visit them when I lived in New York. So it’s something of a sacred route in my life.   

Air travel 

Hear me out. Yes, the seats are small, the lines are a nightmare, and the snack selections keep getting worse. But I never feel freer than when I am on an aeroplane. The in-flight experience has a magic quality to it because it is completely lifted from the timeline of the rest of my life. It’s time that feels completely my own in a way it never feels on land. Also, maybe it’s the altitude, but I seem to do my best creative work at 40,000 feet. I’ve also had some major life epiphanies mid-air. A few times I’ve landed with the feeling I am a completely different person than the person I was at take-off. If it weren’t so bad for the environment, I would try to arrange a situation where I could just hop on a long flight whenever I had a creative deadline or a big personal decision looming. 

Kenwood Ladies’ Pond 

Is there anything more healing than an English pond? When I’m lucky enough to be in London in the summer, I love getting up early on a hot day and heading to Hampstead Heath to do some laps around the Ladies’ Pond. Any stress slips right away. I feel at one with all the swimmers who’ve traced the loop before me — all the stress they were carrying and washing away — and all the swimmers who will trace the loop for years to come. Also, the ducks. I feel one with the ducks. I love those ducks.     

Enjoyed Alice Victoria Winslow’s favourites? Explore last week’s Favourite Things here.

This scheduling clash made it clear that, unsurprisingly, neither Truss nor Sunak are avid Love Island viewers, but it also served as a reminder that whilst Love Island might take over the summer of myself and my contemporaries, the same cannot be said for the maturer half of Britain.

Until now, that is. Reports suggest there is a television show in the works that could make even Liz Truss tune in (potentially) … a  Love Island for middle-aged contestants.

For those unfamiliar with Love Island, it is a reality television show in which a group of good-looking men and women are put into a villa in Mallorca, where they live for eight weeks whilst undergoing tasks and “coupling up” in an attempt to find love and win a £50,000 prize.

The contestants are young (the youngest ever contestant being 18, and the oldest 31), beautiful, and just about interesting enough to watch them lounge around a swimming pool for half of the summer each year. There are public votes and constant dumpings and recouplings, as they attempt to find the best romantic match on offer, breaking hearts in the process. It is a format that borrows from a long history of dating shows and Channel 4’s Big Brother, tweaked for the Instagram age. 

Despite being watched by between 2.4 and 5 million viewers each evening, in recent years, Love Island has come under scrutiny following the suicides of two contestants and the show’s presenter, Caroline Flack. Each year, there are also often several instances of misogyny and bullying that cause women’s aid charities to issue statements about the behaviour witnessed on the show, which lead to critics calling for the show to come off air.

The format works but something in the show’s culture is clearly broken, and that’s where the middle-aged divorcees come in. A new pilot is reportedly being developed where contestants entering the villa are in their 40s and 50s with “normal bodies”, as opposed to washboard abs.

The show, preliminarily titled Your Mum, my Dad, would aim to give middle-aged people in recently failed relationships a second chance at love. A source told the Sun; “times change and the current generation in their 40s and 50s still care about how they look, are fit and healthy, into fashion and are ready to let their hair down. This show will give those who settled down young a second chance at love while they still feel in their prime.”

It is easy to see the appeal to Your Mum, my Dad: many people find love in their 40s and 50s — why shouldn’t they be able to do it on national television? And seeing older (hopefully maturer) relationships on our screens might provide some positive role models to younger audiences, which, if the number of Ofcom complaints that this season of Love Island has received for misogyny is anything to go by, young people are in desperate need of.

To try and maintain a larger audience, the new show will still incorporate young people by having the contestant’s children be responsible for pairing them up behind the scenes; a sort of PG Sun, Sex and Suspicious Parents in reverse. 

This could either be hilarious, or completely patronising. After all, the parents of contestants in Love Island aren’t responsible for deciding who their children end up with. Middle-aged contestants are far more likely to know what they want in a relationship — why can’t we leave the decisions up to them?

Another issue that arises from this potential new element to the Love Island franchise is ITV2 using the show as a scapegoat against accusations of lack of diversity in the original show. Each year, different variants of the same contestant appear on the show, with little variety of body shape or size, age (obviously), and a noticeable lack of Asian representation. Creating a show with middle-aged contestants with “normal bodies” doesn’t take away from the unrealistic expectations perpetrated by the original Love Island; producers must try and improve the original show whilst developing further franchises.

But most of all, the problem with this new spin on Love Island for me, derives from the entertainment factor that comes from watching extremely good-looking young people face romantic rejection for the first time. Would it still be funny when a 45-year-old father of two is rejected just months after going through a crushing divorce? I’m not so sure…

The great thing about reality television, however, is that it is all about throwing mad ideas at the wall and seeing what sticks. Maybe Your Mum, my Dad would be a complete car crash — but we will never know unless we try. Let’s hope ITV2 picks up the pilot, and for those looking for a second chance at love (and a shot at internet fame), get your applications in soon.

These are a few of Jack Jewers’ favourite things…

Art history

I am not in any way trained in the history of art, but I discovered a love and talent that I didn’t know I had during lockdown when, like many people, I had various projects up in the air and I was a bit stuck for things to do. I started doing art history Instagram stories, and they kind of blew up. I take an old painting (typically from the period I write about), look for the hidden messages in it, and analyse why the painting was so successful, often from a sassy, side-eye point of view. Art is also a real way into writing for me. One of the best bits of advice I got when I was starting to write The Lost Diary of Samuel Pepys was when someone told me that if you want to get into the mind of characters, look at paintings from the period and look at the small details. This is because they can tell you so much about fashion, and hairstyles and when you break down a painting and look past the surface, it can also tell you a lot about the hopes, fears and desires of people from that period. That stuck with me and gave me a new way to appreciate art history.

Travel

My first foray into professional writing was writing guidebooks, and something I discovered in doing this is that the best way to travel is to allow yourself to get lost. It is nice to have a rough idea of where you are going, but that often means you’re racing past thousands of years of history and missing it. One of my favourite places to travel is the Languedoc region of France because it has this glorious atrophy about it, you could be driving along and see a half-ruined chateau on the corner of the road, and you can go and peek inside. Allowing yourself to have those experiences is often when the most magical connections to the past appear. It’s the closest we can get to time travel.

Cinema 

Cinema was my first creative love and is my background. During lockdown, my wife and I discovered pre-code cinema. Pre-code means the Hays Code, a very strict set of censorship rules brought into Hollywood in 1934. It changed cinema completely. Until then, Hollywood was daring, experimental, often quite risque and much more socially progressive than you might expect. There was a wealth of films that got completely swept away as you couldn’t show them anymore. Now, of course, they’re accessible but because they disappeared from our culture for 20-30 years, they’re slightly forgotten. Finding these films was an absolute revelation.

One example that I often come back to is, from a social history perspective, you can watch the portrayal of women change within a few years. In Hollywood, up until the mid-late 30s, women were not only in front of the camera with stories that put women front and centre but also behind the camera as writers and creatives. Then the Hays Code came in, and the portrayal of women was suddenly all about motherhood. Take The Thin Man series, for example, the first film was made in 1934, and it is one of my absolute favourites. It is a very good story and is incredibly fun, and the main couple are absolute intellectual equals. They have a very codependent, passionate marriage. If you get to the last The Thin Man film ten years later, she is nothing but a housewife. You go from women being active participants in cinema to being relegated to the kitchen in just a decade. 

Food 

My book is about Samuel Pepys, who famously wrote about a million words over ten years in extraordinary detail in the 16th century. A lot of what he writes about is things like meals and food. That kind of got me thinking about how food is important to me as like many people, I associate food with friendship and family. Pepys was the first person in England to have a cup of tea (on record), although he didn’t like it and preferred coffee! He also writes about lavish parties that he has and almost Bacchanalian dinner parties where everyone gets very drunk. Famously he would hold a particularly raucous dinner party on the anniversary of a major operation he had in his twenties to remove bladder stones. This is ironic and speaks to his dark wit that he would celebrate having a near-fatal condition caused by overeating and the highlife by having an over-the-top party each year. Food as a kind of communal activity with friends and family is important to me, and I’ve been on a quest since the age of fifteen to make the perfect roast chicken.

Scents 

Someone once asked me what I would do if I had to change careers altogether? Somewhat surprisingly, I said I would like to be a perfumer. I have no experience whatsoever and would probably be terrible, but scents are essential to me creatively because it is the most evocative shortcut to fiction. You could spend pages and pages describing a place’s look, but nothing will get the reader there as quickly as describing the smell. Scents are important to me in my creative space; I always have some oils, a scented candle, or something burning. 

Enjoyed Jack Jewers’ favourites? Explore last week’s Favourite Things here.

These are a few of Sian Welby’s favourite things…

Walking around TK Maxx

I’m obsessed with TK Maxx because I’m addicted to candles and plant pots and plants. If I see a plant pot I don’t need, I’ll just get another plant to fill it. At the moment, I’ve got about seven or eight plants in my room. My favourite TK Maxx store is back up north where I’m from in a town called Newark. When I get off the train from London, I sometimes have to wait for my mum to come and pick me up. So I walk to TK Maxx and end up buying all these cushions and garden sets. Then I end up with a folding chair in my lap on the train back with me to London.

Slippers 

I love slippers. It has got to the point where I now take them to other people’s houses because I hate having cold feet. I think it is strange when you get to someone’s house and have to take your shoes off with no slippers to change into because your socks are getting dirty and your feet are cold. We all need to embrace the slipper and start taking them with us on holidays and to hotels too. I always have a pair of fluffy slippers and my favourites Ugg ones. I don’t need this many pairs of slippers but I probably have about six pairs. We all need to embrace the slipper, and I think lads need to embrace the fluffy slipper too.

Murder documentaries

My persona on the radio is very happy-go-lucky and in general, I’m a very upbeat person. So it is a bit of a contradiction that I love watching murderer documentaries and serial killer exposes. My friend Yinka has just done a programme on hitmen and apparently, there’s a hit list in real life and your name could be on it. The show is called How to Hire a Hitman and it’s on Channel 4. It’s fascinating because mums, wives and neighbours are just ordering hits on people in their towns and you would never expect it. Yinka goes on a mission to find the people on the list. It’s amazing. 

Chinese takeaways

My Chinese takeaway order is almost everything on the menu. I’ve got to have the prawn toast, the prawn crackers, the spare ribs, the crispy duck, the chow mein and the salt and pepper chicken. It is something that I don’t have very often but I associate it with being back home with my mum, dad and sister — very much a family thing. We always order one dish too many, but I see it as total comfort food. In London, you go for sushi or dim sum. Everything is very trendy. Chinese, for me, is a guilty pleasure that doesn’t need to be fancy. You want it from a small little local takeaway shop. 

Labelling things

I don’t know where this started. I’m not sure if it was Netflix’s Marie Kondo phase or maybe it was Khloe Kardashian, but I’ve got one of those labellers from Costco and I literally print out labels for everything. Even if the jar is see-through and the point of it is that you can see it has tea bags in it, I will print the label and write tea bags on it. I label everything in my fridge and I even have a specifically labelled dairy aisle, fruit and veg area and a meat section; it’s all got little tags on it. I’m quite a clumsy, messy person — me wearing a white top is lethal — but I like cleaning and being tidy.

Enjoyed Sian Welby’s favourites? Explore last week’s Favourite Things here.

But time heals all wounds and I have spent many months ready for another major tournament and wishing the World Cup was this summer, rather than later in the year.

To my shame, I had all but ignored the fact that there was a tournament going on this summer — the UEFA Women’s EURO 2022 — and it is being hosted in England. Then, on Monday night, I accidentally turned over the television to England’s second game of the tournament and within seconds realised what I had been missing out on.

The Lionesses (England’s female squad) thrashed Norway with an 8-0 win placing them at the top of Group A and qualifying them for the semi-finals. It was an astonishing game of football with 27-year-old Beth Mead stealing the show with a hattrick.

A few people, notably Keir Starmer, had tweeted their congratulations to the squad, but in comparison to the absolute football frenzy of last summer, their incredible performance was largely uncelebrated. This made me wonder why we (myself included) take women’s football so much less seriously than men’s? And if an 8-0 victory doesn’t capture the country’s attention, what will?

The argument surrounding women’s football is rather chicken and egg. Some say women’s football isn’t as celebrated as men’s because it isn’t publicised in the same way. Others reply that it isn’t publicised more because it isn’t watched enough. But really, it is far more complicated than that. 

During 1914 and the beginning of the First World War, women found themselves working in factories to replace men who had gone off to fight. The work was gruelling and often involved working with machinery and toxic chemicals, so health and welfare advisors began encouraging the women to take up sports as a rest bite from the tough labour. 

Many factories set up football teams and before long, one team from Preston had made a name for itself. Dick, Kerr’s Ladies FC (from Dick, Kerr & Co munitions factory) was founded in 1917 and, like the other female teams, played games for charity and to raise money for the war effort. 

By the end of the year, the Dick, Kerr’s Ladies FC’s Boxing Day match against a rival team was attended by 53,000 people, with an estimated 14,000 more hopeful spectators waiting outside the stadium. The female club had found fame in football and had requests to play all across the nation.

By 1921, however, the Football Association (FA) decided to effectively ban mainstream women’s football due to “complaints having been made as to football being played by women” and the “unsuitable” nature of football for those of the female sex. Many thought the decision was made out of jealousy, as women’s football continued to be loved across England. Women were no longer allowed to play on official FA grounds and though they tried to keep playing on unofficial pitches, media attention quickly waned.

Over a century later and women’s football has never quite recovered from this decision by the FA — though there have been plenty of exceptional female players over the years trying to fix this. 

Yet there has never been a better time to start watching women’s football, as the England team seem to be going from strength to strength. During qualification for the 2023 FIFA World Cup, Ellen White became the England team’s all-time record goal scorer and the game (a 20-0 win against Latvia) was multi-record breaking as three other players scored hattricks too. It was also the largest victory any men or women’s senior England side had ever achieved (take that FA!) 

The final argument you will often hear surrounding women’s football is that the female game lacks the “strength” of men’s football, to which I say, so what? We already have a thriving male football industry and while last night proved that women’s football can be just as spectacular, we don’t need to compare the two. There’s room for them both in our football-crazed country, and surely any real fan would think the more football the better?

I’ll be eagerly tuning in to watch the Lionesses play in the quarter-finals next week, and you should be too. If the team plays anything like they did last night, we might win this time too. 

These are a few of Alice Krige’s favourite things…

Animal Charities

I have become very aware of the work animal charities do in the last few years, from Network for Animals and the Humane Society International to PETA, SSPCA, Dogs Trust and Animal’s Survival International. All these groups work with animals in need day in and day out and quietly do extraordinary work. Humans have a unique capability for cruelty to one another and animals. It moves me so much that there are people who truly dedicate their lives to caring for animals who, for the most part, are pretty defenceless in the face of what we subject them to. Network For Animals also educates local communities as, very often, great cruelty happens where there is poverty or deprivation. I contribute as much as I can, but at some point, I hope I can advocate more vocally for animals. My husband and I have also had rescue dogs for as long as we have been together (which is an astonishingly long time), but our last dog died in October 2020. My husband simply can’t cope with having another one yet, though he knows we will in the future when we are travelling less. I think we will go to the Dogs Trust in three or four years and get a very old boy who needs some loving care. 

Working on creative projects

I love working on creative projects with passionate groups of people, whether that is theatre, film or conservation. It is inspiring to be around people who are committed to creating something, and is one of the joys of being alive. The pandemic slowed things down, but I recently worked on a film called She Will which is out soon. We shot the film really fast under quite challenging physical circumstances, filming in October and December in the Cairngorms in Scotland. She Will has been labelled, perhaps erroneously, as horror or soft horror, but it is actually much more of a psychological drama about the supernatural. It was very joyful filming it because everyone who was there was very committed to the experience. I think if you are producing something, you have to really care about the material. This is because it is a process that can take years, from inception to release, and so you need to feel as passionate about it at the end as at the beginning.

My secret garden

We are truly fortunate to live in the countryside in Devon, and we have a really wonderful garden with four distinct spaces within it. The garden was this way when we bought the house and one section is particularly magical. It is a circular garden surrounded by hedgerows and seven great trees. The hedges mean it is totally enclosed, and we don’t mow it till August, instead cutting a couple of paths through the wildflower meadow. Hedgehogs and glowworms inhabit it, and the fox comes through occasionally. You enter the space through a narrow hedge gap that you wouldn’t even know is there. I pause on the threshold and sort of silently ask permission to enter every morning because it is a beautiful space that is entirely unto itself. 

The night sky 

There is something about my wild garden and the night sky that I find absolute necessity; even if I am not here, I like to imagine it and — I know this sounds odd — it grounds me in the mystery. We don’t see it every night because we are in northwest Devon, and there is a fair amount of cloud, but I love seeing the night sky and the way the constellations traverse the cosmos. I feel bereft when I am in London because I often can’t even see the moon because of the buildings. I feel alive when I am connected to nature and the night sky. The gift of the countryside is that you are so connected to the bigger picture. We have sheep and cattle up on the moors that live wild and are only brought in if there is a bad winter. You drive through moorland, and it is a very life-affirming, rejuvenating energy. There is no overlay of pollution and traffic; the countryside is a good antidote. I was born and lived in the Kalahari desert until I was about nine, so the night sky and vast landscape were embedded in my conscience from the beginning. To return to something not the same, but with the same energy, at this stage in my life is wonderful.

Family

My husband and my family are a source of great joy in my life. I am lucky that I come from a very happy family. I was very close to my parents when they were alive, and I am very close to my brothers and their families; it is very fortunate. I don’t think everyone comes from a family that is concerned for each other and actually really like one another. It is a great source of solace, strength and happiness. My brothers live in South Africa, but the advent of FaceTime and WhatsApp has just been fabulous. When my parents were alive, Skype had just begun, and you spoke to your family for five minutes on the phone on a Sunday. Now, we have WhatsApp groups, and there is chat back and forth all day. In fact, a baby was born yesterday, and right away, the images of this new little soul were there; 15 to 20 years ago, I would have had to wait for a photograph months later! I haven’t been able to go back to South Africa since 2018, and I think this is the fourth baby who has been born since I was last there and who I have had to meet over the internet. I hope that before Christmas I will be able to go and see them all. Even though we aren’t in the same physical space, there is an emotional space we all share.

Enjoyed Alice Krige’s favourites? Explore last week’s Favourite Things here.

In the UK, it is a time commonly known as “silly season” owing to the frivolous stories that find their way to the front pages. The phrase is said to have been coined by The Times of London in 1861 when it published a piece headlined “The Silly Season” explaining the concept: “When Parliament is no longer sitting and the gay world is no longer gathered together in London, something very different is supposed to do for the remnant of the public from what is needed in the politer portions of the year.”

Meanwhile, in Europe, this time of year goes by a different name. In Czech, Danish, Dutch, Hebrew, Hungarian, Icelandic, Norwegian, Polish and Slovak it is known as “cucumber time”, owing to the abundance of the green vegetable at this time of year. According to the newsletter, The Knowledge, Germans, Estonians and Croatians go one step further, calling it “pickled cucumber season”. 

Pickled cucumber season typically arrives in late summer and continues into the early autumn, but this year, traces of the season are appearing earlier than ever. After a particularly heavy start to the year with the conflict in Ukraine, the cost-of-living crisis and a seemingly never-ending stream of government scandals dominating our headlines, perhaps people need silly season more than ever.

Here are the first glimpses of silly season that might provide brief relief from the doom and gloom of a very negative news cycle.

This year’s silly season unexpectedly kicked off at the Chelsea Flower Show when a mysterious woman tripped and fell into a pond at the event, only to be saved by TV chef Ainsley Harriot. The woman was later revealed to be his sister, who had tripped into the pond and ingested a lot of water but fully recovered shortly after, as reported in the Evening Standard. 

Meanwhile, AP News reported the strange news that Swedish retailer IKEA had decided to branch out from furniture and home furnishings to help the world come up with unique baby names. Since 1948, IKEA has been naming products after Swedish towns, lakes and traditional names. Now, they have collated more than 800 listings into a “name bank” on the IKEA Norway website. In a statement, IKEA noted that despite retailers experiencing a shortage of “raw materials and challenges with delivery times” throughout the pandemic, there was no shortage of children, so they decided to put their brand to good use. Names are listed alongside their meaning and the year they were used and include; “Edda” (Quite straightforward, but surprises in some places, 1966), “Agneta” (Graceful and comfortable, 1965) and “Ranfrid” (Is transparent for most, 1999). How’s that for thinking outside the flatpack box?

The most obvious indication of the beginning of silly season, however,  has come in the form of small yellow cartoon characters called minions, which are all over the front pages this week thanks to a TikTok trend. The #gentleminions trend involves teenagers attending screenings of the new Universal Pictures children’s film, Minions: The Rise of Gru, wearing suits and copying the mannerisms of the film’s villain, Gru. The Gen-Z crowds of up to 30 teenagers have gone viral on TikTok for enthusiastically clapping and cheering at the screening, appearing as if they are attending their prom afterwards. One cinema in Cornwall has banned “unaccompanied children wearing suits” and others are complaining about the raucous behaviour scaring off children and families. Universal Pictures are unsurprisingly supportive of the trend which is boosting box office numbers, tweeting, “to everyone showing up to @Minions in suits: we see you and we love you”. If that isn’t a silly season story I don’t know what is.

Some would undoubtedly argue there is too much bad news in the world for silly season this year, and it’s easy to see why. But hidden amid the gloom-ridden news stories are laughs aplenty. Silly season is off to a good start and I’m sure there are plenty more pickled cucumbers to come. 

These are a few of Anneke Short’s favourite things…

Games

I absolutely love games. I’m talking board games, card games, puzzle games, charades; you name it. Anything that reunites a group around a table to spend quality time together. From old-school classics such as Pictionary and Trivial Pursuits to more modern Escape Room-style games such as Unlock, if it’s got dice, cards, or a sand-timer, then count me in. Although a word of warning, I’m a stickler for the rules, cheating is a massive bugbear of mine, but I like to think I’m gracious in defeat and humble in victory. My family, however, might disagree.

The outdoors

When we were children staying with our grandparents over the holidays, our Dutch grandmother would take us on brisk walks to “blow away the cobwebs” every single day, come rain or shine, and it’s a habit that has stuck. Time spent outdoors is never wasted; if I’m ever stuck for inspiration or suffering from creative block, I put on my shoes and go outside. It doesn’t matter where I go, whether it’s meandering around the side streets of London or heading into nature, but it always helps. I truly believe in the restorative power of the outdoors, and that it’s something that is often overlooked in today’s world. Put a group of people around a campfire, with marshmallows to toast and flasks of hot chocolate to drink, and just watch their troubles melt away.

Folklore

I’m completely fascinated by folklore: fables, mythology, old traditions, fairytales, anything of that ilk. I like exploring the meanings and origins behind traditions, why some have stood the test of time whilst others have been all but forgotten. I recently learned about the tradition of Wassailing and completely fell in love with it. We even held our own wassailing ceremony in our garden this year, with hot spiced cider for the adults and apple juice for the minors. It’s not about the belief — I don’t actually believe that we’re blessing the harvest of our two meagre courgette plants and a handful of tomato vines — it’s about the theatre of it, the magic and the fun in suspending your disbelief. This links into an interest in symbolism and sentimentality too, how things like talismans, family heirlooms and even everyday items can be imbued with a meaning that is totally unrelated to the actual object.

Musicals

When I was around 12 or 13, my school put on a musical, Cabaret, performed in our assembly hall on a very small budget. From the very opening note, I was hooked. Since then, I’ve honed my love of old-school classics featuring Doris Day and Fred Astaire. I love the absolute joy of a great ensemble number and the heartbreaking sadness of the protagonist solo. Musicals transport me altogether, to another place, time and moment. I like musical films, but above all, I adore the West End. In fact, I’d like to think that if I weren’t a designer, that would be my home. Not on stage, but helping to create the illusion, working as part of the backstage team — a set designer perhaps?

The Olympics

Be it winter or summer, I love the Olympic and Paralympic games. It’s something I’ve always enjoyed, but my true passion for the games was cemented by the London 2012 games. Watching athletes at the absolute top of their game perform the most outstanding physical feats is always so humbling. I have a particular penchant for Athletics, and it’s the only area I tend to follow outside of the official games. The grit and determination showed by the athletes, some of whom are very young and some who have had to overcome major obstacles to get to where they are, is truly something to admire. I can’t help but wish these were the people we were looking up to instead of the latest contestants of Love Island or whatever the latest reality show may be.

Enjoyed Anneke Short’s favourites? Explore last week’s Favourite Things here.

Far more important than the bickering between Gen-Z and Boomers, I’m talking about the commercialisation of universities and the subsequent devaluation of the arts and humanities because a wealth of knowledge is apparently no match for economic wealth.

This week, Sheffield Hallam University suspended its English literature course, following in the footsteps of the University of Cumbria last year. Meanwhile, Roehampton and Wolverhampton universities have announced planned closures of their arts and humanities programmes and the lecturers’ union UCU has warned that jobs in those subjects may be at risk at De Montfort and Huddersfield universities, too.

Sheffield Hallam has yet to explain its extraordinary decision. However, Dr Mary Peace, an English literature lecturer at the university, told The Telegraph she believes the decision was “largely economic”, due to poor job return for graduates and lower threshold incomes for the careers English literature graduates go on to.

The skills learnt in an English literature degree, such as interpretation of texts and reading in context, “seem vital to me for navigating and being successful in our society,” Dr Peace said, and yet humanities are “obviously not part of [the university’s] vision of the future.”

I graduated with an English literature degree back in 2018, and would happily do it all over again. Not only did the course provide a valuable balance of creativity and analytical skills but it incorporated history, ethics, philosophy and critical thinking. Studying English literature is about a lot more than just books and it unlocked so many different ways of thinking about the world for me.

In every job I’ve worked since graduating — from an internship at an advertising agency to my current job in journalism — I have used the skills I learned through my degree every day. (Not to mention the benefits of being able to effectively communicate in my personal life). 

Yet English literature has fallen victim to the unimaginative “Mickey Mouse” or “soft” subject complex that universities, and the government, increasingly posit. It might be true that very few investment bankers studied English literature, but the world would come to a dull and uninspirational halt if the great thinkers and writers of the world all disappeared at once and no new creative minds were allowed to prosper. 

Joan Rivers, Stephen King, Martin Scorsese, Renee Zellweger and Jodie Foster, to name but a few, all studied English at higher education level in the last few decades; I think it is fair to say they are all hugely successful, intelligent and have contributed tremendous value to society.

Beyond the walls of university campuses, the cuts to arts and humanities also reflect a wider problem with society’s increasing devaluation of creativity. Creative careers are notoriously underpaid, but rather than making them even more difficult to find success in, we should be evaluating why we no longer reward creative skills or careers in the same way we used to.

The government wants to “crack down” on “low value” courses, with proposed new rules suggesting universities could face penalties if fewer than 75 per cent of undergraduates complete their courses and fewer than 60 per cent are in professional jobs or studying for a further degree within 15 months of graduating. Perhaps they should first look at providing support and funding to the creative industries instead; the study of literature has been essential to the quality of life for centuries — to discredit it seems like a huge societal regression. 

Many have noted that the universities that have, thus far, announced cuts to their arts and humanities programmes are not Russell Group universities, which tend to be attended by wealthier and more privileged students. 

By backhandedly forcing non-Russell Group universities to reduce their humanities courses because graduates don’t pay back their student loans fast enough for their liking, the government is encouraging these subjects to be increasingly available to only those with wealthy parents or private school educations, undoing much of the work the creative industries have done to make themselves more accessible. 

The author Philip Pullman summarised this well, telling the Guardian: “The study of literature should not be a luxury for a wealthy minority of spoilt and privileged aesthetes, but a spring of precious truth and life that every one of us is entitled to.”

These are a few of Clarke Peters’ favourite things…

Gardening 

I first got into gardening in the summer of 1983. Before that, I didn’t realise that I enjoyed gardening because as a child, my mother gardened, and she would have us rake up the leaves and do the weeds — it was just a chore. Then, I had an opportunity to take some seeds and put them in the ground myself, and the rewards of taking something out of the ground and eating it immediately is what hooked me. I hated beetroot, but someone said if you take the beets and make them into juice it’s really nice; I didn’t believe them. Then I did it, and I could not believe how wonderful it was. It made me think the French got it wrong when they called a potato a Pomme de Terre; it should be a beetroot! They are so sweet. Now I have a little place in Portugal where I’m going to grow vegetables, and I have about a quarter of an acre of land that I have planted lavender in to make a lavender field; my wife and I will try and figure out how to make that into oils or soap. We might plant chamomile too, and get some bees in there and see what happens. I love gardening, and I think everyone should do it.

Woodwork 

We tore down an old shed made of well-seasoned wood recently, so I decided to make a pergola out of it. I thought, wow, this will be nice as a place with two little beds so we can lie by the pool. I like making things with my hands, and I think there is enough left over to make some benches and tables out of reclaimed wood. A few years back, I was doing a lot of carving of sculptures too; little heads with African designs. I hadn’t done that in a while so I was excited to inherit all this wood and see what I could do with it. It’s not just making the structure that appeals to me but what I can engrave on the sides of the pillars.

Cooking 

I am the cook in the house, and I like it very much. I stopped eating meat in about 1986 but before that, if you gave me a chicken, I could do wonderful things to it, fish too. I am not shy in dealing with things besides vegetables, but recently I had an experience where I had to learn how to make sauces and gravy. Unfortunately, it was something I wasn’t used to, so one of my gravies came out more like a block of clay. But it was a learning process. I like the alchemy of cooking. I like that you can take something from the ground, cook it, and it becomes part of you; that you can take certain combinations and put them together, and it can heal you. Food is very important, and it shouldn’t be there just to satisfy your tongue; it should satisfy your body too. My go-to dish uses any leftover rice from the fridge; get some sesame, sunflower, and pumpkin seeds, and roast those up. Then, take some nuts, crush them into a powder, and roast them. Mix it all into the rice, season with some za’atar, drizzle a little olive oil over it and add some avocado. 

Playing my guitar

For most of my life, I have been learning to play the guitar. It is mainly self-taught, but I had some lessons recently. I have known Hugh Burns (a fantastic jazz and classical guitarist from Glasgow) for years, and I bought one of my sons some lessons with him as he wanted to learn how to play. But he never took them, so I did instead. At my age, the fingers don’t move as fast as they used to, but it is a nice challenge. And I love my guitar.

Painting

Where I am living now has the most beautiful garden I have been in for a long time, there are flowers everywhere. The way it is designed is that as one colour is leaving, another colour arrives. So when I arrived here three weeks ago, there were these beautiful large pink and white tulips everywhere, and every petal was a piece of art. I decided to get some watercolours and start playing with them. Now the tulips are gone, but purple columbines are growing in their place. This is an inspiration for me, and I am trying to capture some of that. When I was working on The Wire, my daughter (who is an artist) said I ought to get some oil paints, and I hadn’t done painting in years, so I did. Oils can be very intimidating but I found myself getting lost in the painting. 

Enjoyed Clarke Peters’ favourites? Explore last week’s Favourite Things here.

BBC Bitesize and Survation recently collaborated on a survey of 2,019 children aged 11-16 in the UK as part of a renewed focus on online safety. They found that young people rely on social media for the news, even if they don’t entirely trust it. TikTok is the top-ranking social media platform for news (30 per cent compared to Twitter’s six per cent), yet only 31 per cent of respondents trust the content. 

Though TikTok ranks above other social media platforms, young people still trust Channel 4, ITV, BBC and newspapers more than any social media. Despite this, when asked who they would turn to if they wanted to check the validity of a news story, 35 per cent chose social media influencers. 

It reveals a strange pressure that is both unwarranted and worrying. If someone has established an online platform due to their interest in fashion, working out or cooking, they do not necessarily have any better grasp of how to identify and avoid amplifying fake news than the young person looking to them for reassurance. 

This was a lesson we learned over and over during the pandemic when certain influencers posted anti-vax messaging on their social media platforms. In July 2021, it was even revealed that an anonymous client was using an agency to pay influencers to spread disinformation about the vaccines.

So why are influencers trusted by young people? Well to start with, the alternatives are hardly much better.

A moral compass might have been on the job description for politicians once upon a time, but these days their scandals can be found in tabloids more frequently than celebrities’. As a result, just one per cent of young people would trust politicians to tell the truth about the news, less than influencers (at five per cent). 

This sets a dangerous precedent for the future of political engagement among young people. How will parties convince young people to show up to the ballot box if they can’t prove they are trustworthy about what is happening in the news? If young people are already disenchanted with politicians and politics before they can even vote, there is a serious issue at play. 

Parents might find their children idolising influencers worrying (and for good reason) but just like anything on the internet, social media platforms can be used as a force for good. For every anti-vaxxer spreading misinformation, there’s someone like Marcus Rashford using his platform for social change or Kwajo Tweneboa using social media to put pressure on authorities to improve social housing crises or Sophia Smith Galer educating others by tapping into the potential of journalism told through social media. 

Even so, influencers will never — and should never — be expected to fulfil anywhere near the same role as a politician. The BBC has shone a light on an issue in British politics that needs to be fixed urgently. Politicians must stop alienating young people before they cost us a working democracy. 

These are a few of Professor Jim Al-Khalili’s favourite things…

Quantum Mechanics

Let’s get this one out of the way first. There’s a famous saying among physicists that goes: if you’re not astonished by quantum mechanics, then you haven’t understood it. Well, after 40 years of study, I’m still in love with the subject, and I’m still astonished and baffled by it. Quantum mechanics is the theory that describes the behaviour of the subatomic world and is arguably the most important and powerful theory in all of science because without it, we would not have developed the modern world (no computers, no internet, iPhones, Zoom meetings or Netflix). Now, you might say that would be a good thing, but then I would counter with: don’t be ridiculous! Anyway, what’s not to love about an equation that tells us atoms can be in two places at once or that cats in boxes can be dead and alive at the same time?

Chocolate

I enjoy going to the cinema every few weeks, but if I’m honest, the trip is as much about the chocolate as it is about the movie. Weirdly, I’m not a fan of plain chocolate, which I find too bitter for my liking. My tastes are far less refined than that. My go-to chocolate bar is Dairy Milk, but I have been known to get through one of those large bags of Revels at the cinema, usually in the first fifteen minutes of a film.  Before you judge me too harshly, however, I still try to maintain that my body is a temple, so I try to ration my chocolates by not being naughty during the week. But come Friday evening… the wrappers are off.

The South Downs

My wife Julie and I love walking in the country — nothing too strenuous, but a circular route of 8-10 miles is just about right. We live on the south coast of Hampshire in Southsea, so we have a lovely promenade, but it’s just a short drive north into the South Downs. Our favourite area for a walk is around the Meon valley in central Hampshire. It’s so peaceful and picturesque, and I’m always surprised at how few people we encounter on our walks — just the odd dog-walker or cyclist. While it may not compare with, say, the Lake District for spectacular vistas, the Meon Valley is every bit as beautiful as the Cotswolds. Each walk will involve a few hills, woods, pretty villages and plenty of stiles. And needless to say, each one ends with a pub for the obligatory beer or cider (and possibly ham, egg and chips if we feel we’ve burnt off enough calories).

My MacBook Pro

I am a slave to my Apple products. While I make plenty of use of my iPhone and iPad, it’s my MacBook Pro laptop that has my life on it. Well, I say “life”, I really mean work, but then my science is my life, and so my MacBook accompanies me almost everywhere. I spend far too much time on trains for my work, commuting from Southsea to Guildford, where my office at the University of Surrey is, but also a little further up to the London for my BBC work. I also travel around the country giving talks or meeting with other scientists for my research. And as soon as I get on a train, I open my laptop and, hopefully, connect to the WIFI. In fact, that is exactly what I am doing right now as I write this: on the Portsmouth to Waterloo train, tapping away on my lovely Mac.

Leeds United

Even sadder than loving quantum mechanics or my laptop, I am a life-long fan of Leeds. I started supporting them with my brother when we were kids, and Leeds was the top team in the country. If you know anything about football and are old enough, then you will know of Billy Bremner, Eddie Gray, Jonny Giles, Norman Bites-Your-Legs Hunter and the rest of that early 1970s team. Well, apart from a few more recent moments of glory, it’s been downhill ever since. I now have my son, David, supporting them too (having made sure I “accidentally” dropped and broke the Manchester United mug someone foolishly bought for him when he was very young). David and I make our annual pilgrimage to Elland Road every season, and even though I’ve never lived in Leeds or Yorkshire, I feel as I step off the train that I’ve come home. Quite pathetic really.

Enjoyed Professor Jim Al-Khalili’s favourites? Explore last week’s Favourite Things here.