My grandmother returned from the dead for a day trip to Grantham by train. I was delighted to see her after almost two decades. However, my happiness turned to horror when we approached an outdoor jumble sale and I spotted amongst the odds and ends on the table a selection of my granny’s finest beige clothing. How would she react when she discovered that, in the twenty-first century, her signature “sad camel” look could be found amongst outdoor junk in a provincial northern town.