Hyper-consumerism or pure magic?

This isn’t an ‘either or’ conversation. The scale of fashion waste in the west is abhorrent. We know this. It’s why I so seldom buy new clothes. Besides, the good stuff is always in the vintage and charity shops. For the kids, it’s all about Vinted and re-purposing when it comes to fancy dress in our house.

Today is World Book Day. My son calls out for his night light at 5.45am and I notice his open eye, watching me despite the rest of his face ploughed into his pillow.

‘Dad….’

‘Yeah?’

‘I’m just so excited about World Book Day.’

And he is. They are. Stories. That human glue. We need them on every level, and have to watch out for the sneaky narratives we weave that cut us off from our creativity. The reasons we can’t, won’t, or shouldn’t do things that are right, or perpetuate damaging behaviours.

If I think early, it’s under a duvet with a torch, totally absorbed by the descriptions of the inside of the giant peach by Roahld Dahl.

A bit later it’s Point Horror and my first serious literary chills.

As an agitated teenager suspicious of the version of success I saw offered up, it was Fight Club.

I could go on, but a man listing his favourite books belongs on Goodreads.

The reason I adore seeing the kids running up to school dressed as their favourite book characters is because it highlights the unifying magic of stories. How they equalise, illuminate, inspire, and show us the way. The purity of kids who are not yet caught in the ‘maturity trap’ that later ensnares adolescents, and keeps too many adults in it to the detriment of their ability to flourish as a human, in their creativity.

We could all learn a thing or two from them.