Carol, the psychotherapist I'm seeing during this project, recently asked me to go through my old family photos so that we could analyze my childhood. This is one of the least embarrassing pics (and no I'm not posting any more).

Take a good look at the picture; it’s the 1982 indoor Cub Scout sports day, and Boorman is right there in the action. Lets ignore my hideous basin haircut for a moment and look at the outfits. All the guys in the background have got their brand new football team kits (even the socks) and some fetching pairs of adidas ( I think they're adidas Sambas).

Now look at me. Rubbish no-brand plimsoles from Woolworth's, socks of an unknown but equally hideous origin, and my junior school PE kit. The burning shame of it all.

If you asked me what I did last Tuesday, I probably wouldn't remember. I can however recall how embarrassed I was on that day back in the early 80's. Everyone had the right gear; the current football strips, the branded sneakers, the right footballs and the cool bags to carry them in. Everyone that is, except me.

Its memories like this I'm sure, that have caused me to overcompensate in later life. Today, nothing is left to chance. I may not be the smartest guy in the room, or the most successful or the most handsome, but boy, I'll always have the best-branded gear I can afford, and I'll be attempting to look the best that I possibly can.

As the fire draws nearer, I'm definitely weaning myself off this brand addiction. But I wonder if I'll ever be able to completely divorce myself from the anxiety I feel about my presentability to others. As long as there are photos like this to remind me of my early non-branded childhood, the answer is no. This picture is going on the fire. Good riddance.