Peter Rhodes on dressing for lockdown, turning down honours and the perils of online trousers

Cometh the plague, cometh the style. Nick Wheeler, boss of the tie and shirt firm Charles Tyrwhitt, describes dressing for an online video conference. Your fellow executives see you wearing a smart jacket and tie. What they can't see, below the table, is that you're still in pyjamas. It's called Zoom casual.

It's a very patchy pandemic, isn't it? A friend remarked a few days ago that no-one among his extended family, friends, workmates, kids' friends or neighbours had caught Covid-19, let alone died of it. So I did the same tally among my brood and family acquaintances. So far, I know of 30 people who have tested positive all, thankfully, with mild symptoms. An old pal caught Covid-19 in hospital and died but was already terminally ill and in his mid-80s. Like so many, he died with it rather than of it.

As the high street implodes, I really ought to be regaling you with jolly memories of shopping at Debenhams, Top Shop and the others. Truth is, I can't recall buying a single item at any of them. Shopping is a feminine thing. When a bloke enters a store it is usually a joyless admission of defeat, signifying that something has broken or worn out. There's also that strange aspect (as I seem to recall) that, while shop assistants rush to help female customers, they tend to regard lurking males with suspicion. Better to stay at home and buy your kit online. What could possibly go wrong?

Now I think of it, something went strangely wrong a few weeks back when a pair of bargain cargo trousers arrived with the fly missing. Don't ask.

Only a few years ago, Gina Martin was writing frothy, lightweight features with headlines including “In defence of wearing thongs all day, every day” and “Hot butter rum is the best way to get drunk this Xmas.” And then at a music festival she was upskirted by a man who shoved his mobile phone under her hem and took a photograph. She was outraged and launched a campaign which ended with Parliament passing a law specifically banning upskirting. Martin has since devoted herself to civil rights and the history of the British Empire.

In recognition of her work, she was offered an OBE. But citing “deep and unsettling race issues” with the Empire, she refused it. Her letter to Downing Street declining the gong is an impressive and well-reasoned piece but, even if she wasn't troubled by echoes of the Empire, there is a school of thought that says journalists should not accept state honours. Our job is to hold the powerful to account and generally bother them. If the powerful want to give you a medal, you're probably not bothering them enough.

It's a personal choice and I know some fine journalists who have accepted honours. But in following her instincts, Gina Martin is right. Not that she's always right. This thong is giving me hell.