We knew it was coming. My mother mews “please be careful”, eyes locked on my battered Prada bag, every time I leave home for the city. But now, when it comes to getting from A to B safely, the temperature has shifted.
It started with the watches. Anyone with an ounce of IQ retired Rolexes and Cartiers to the safe last year, when it became more likely to be hit by a machete-brandishing moped monster than a Bugaboo pram in Mayfair. But then, when the “Rolex rippers” targeted some daft idiot waving around his £70,000 diamond encrusted eyesore, one couldn’t help but think — well, duh.
