There's a looming need for me to look presentable coming up. Meaning I have to sacrifice my normal thrown together jeans and whatever shirt is n't too wrinkled look for something different. This time I have to be Mr Business.

So I disinterred my suit out of my wardrobe, checked for any moth damage, and had it properly cleaned.

Now I have to say this: do I scrub up well in a suit, or what. I look completely different. Like professional.

Sayonara to the tugboat captain chic, adieu to the man about to visit his probation office look. That's gone. All change. Time for the man about the City sartorial buzz.

Whether I'll be so charged when I come back from the assessment centre - the compulsion to be suited and properly booted - or when I return from holiday, is moot. My suit could have a sibling, or it remains an orphan at the back of the wardrobe. Watch this space.