What's in a Name?

I went shopping this morning with a colleague from work. Early start to get a parking place at one of the most exclusive outlet shopping villages in the country. Two hours of frenzied upper class bargain hunters, desperate to get their designer shirt of choice, that perfect pair of shoes, that eye grabbing silver necklace. I got elbowed in the head in Ralph Lauren, struggled to squeeze through the door of Dolce and Gabana and came close to a claustrophobia induced panic attack in Jack Wills.

I exaggerate of course, but you get the sense of general atmosphere. Was I in on it? Yes. I now have a new £39 Jack Wills shirt (down from £75) and a new £59 Aubin and Wills Gillet (down from £120). Both of which I needed like a hole in the head. But I can't lie. I love them. And my love is not entirely independent of their labels. I have come to a new realisation of my shallowness today. Yes, I will always have a love affair with Tesco and Asda clothing. But I get a certain satisfaction from having designers too. Does it actually make a difference? Is the quality any greater? I think it probably is but it doesn't stop me feeling guilty. And should I feel guilty? I don't know.