Winter is here, I can already feeling myself craving nerdy cardigans. Odd since the sun was bouncing off the pavement today. I have an autistic relationship to clothing. I only want to wear the same items. My partner observed this recently when stowing my laundry — stowing not folding. Folding is not a task I’d entrust to anyone. I find folding laundry very pleasing. I just have no desire to do anything beyond folding it into a stack. Hence his generous intervention.

“Oh my God,” he exclaims. “I just couldn’t believe it there were like twenty identical shirts, twenty cardigans and so on.” He exaggerates there is maybe 7 of each. I like doing laundry too much to ever require twenty of anything. Except books, shelves, raisins and easy anchors.

I had to remind him that the impressive items of clothing I own have been purchased for me by him and his mother.

There is a particular black cardigan, longer with grandad pockets that may be joining my x7 fashion line up. I have 2, both donations, but with the wintery feelings may have to embrace a third.