Inside this week's ES Magazine: What men really think about...
I’ve never been what you might call a man’s man. I mean, look at me. Do I look like I know my way around a toolbox? (That’s not or are cinematic masterpieces (I don’t even drive) and — I was shocked to realise this week — I’ve never been on a stag do. I like shoes with two-inch heels (minimum), Italian slasher films and Colefax and Fowler soft furnishings. What male tribe does this put me in? Enlightened ponce, maybe?
