To borrow from Kipling: “not only will tearing down your Maxim 1998 centrefold mean you’ve become a man, my son, it’ll also stop those reoccurring nightmares where a Harryhausen she-devil bursts from the wall and eats your face off.” Pin these (1, 2) beauties from Print Club London up in its place, and feel sleep’s sweet kiss. (Moon 2.0 print,£60)
Never quite sure about the smell of your house, are you? Always crippled by the fear your nostrils are immune to that gouda-in-the-fridge fug. So remove any doubt with a nap-prompting musk! Light up Labour and Wait’s Balsam Fir Incense (£6.50) for a wintery log cabin feel, or burn Haeckel’s camomile incense tin from Goodhood and run a PB into the Land Of Nod.
Seventy-five pounds on an alarm clock that promises to gently rouse you by recreating a natural sunrise, and is scientifically proven to boost your productivity and mood – or £400 on a new iPhone because you’ve gone full Hulk Smash on its hellishly chirpy 6am wake-up alarm? Cannot argue the maths, chap. Cannot. Argue. The maths.
“THERE’S A F*CKING BIRD-EATING TARANTULA IN OUR BED!” Your partner screams. You get out of bed, turn on this Anglepoise lamp (£75) and roll back the sheets to reveal… no tarantula. You glare menacingly as your better half melts back into a deep slumber. This is your life now. This is what you signed up for.
Your eyes open at around 11am on a Sunday morning. Last night was a mad one – Ten-Pint Pete was back in town. But what’s this? Where have your fingers gone? Must’ve tried to assemble the sofa-bed death trap for your overnight guest! You’ll get no mutilation with Habitat’s super-simple yet stylish pull-out (£395).
Yep, we can exclusively reveal details of the secret menu at Le Bun's residency in Birthdays
Those kids can bang on our door all they want, we'll be out
Delve beyond the nine million "limited-edition pumpkin cocktails" and you'll find some first-rate stuff coming up