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Can you pass The Giraffe Test?

What’s in a name hey? More than you might think actually. A child’s name says more about the parents than their tiny converse shoes do, or the make of buggy they get wheeled around in does. My name is Robin Sherwood, so it’s safe to

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Peppa Pig – a passive aggressive porker?

I’ve long harboured suspicions that there’s a dark side to Peppa’s personality. Early on in the first series she exhibited signs of a selfish streak; see Best Friend (series 1, episode 3) where she won’t let her little brother George play with her and her friend Suzi

We’re only making plans for Nigel

Nigel and I have come along away together since he came to live with me in London during the summer of 2003. A fluffy ginger Tom with entitlement issues and an almost pathological hatred of girls, he’s been by my side (and in my wardrobe/bed/drawers)

Martha’s Essentials: The Kenzo peacoat

If you think about it, babies are the perfect market for disposable fashion brands like Primark and H&M to exploit. Because they’re growing so quickly, most items of clothing only really last a few months before your baby has outgrown them, then it’s time to

The big reveal

George at ASDA recently revealed the results of a survey about how parents choose to break the news of a new baby. Of the people polled, 57% announced their first pregnancy to family in person and 54% told their friends face-to-face. So far so normal

The Dandy Dad Manifesto (Part 1)

I’m in a bit of a bind. Although I’m overjoyed at the news that I’ll be a father for the first time next month, my inner fashionista is frankly terrified. You see, I’m a bit of an urban exhibitionist. In fact, I own more pairs

To NCT or not to NCT? That is the question…

Whether it is nobler in the mind to bear the slings and arrows of well-meaning but really quite dull parents in your local area… As soon as my wife and I announced our engagement, she had a religious epiphany and declared that she’d been a

Alternative lullabies

As the father of a young baby, I’m often struggling to justify my existence. Between changing a wet nappy at 5.30am and trying to collapse our ridiculous Rube Goldberg buggy, I often feel as useful as an inflatable dartboard. However, at around 2am this morning –