First, I'd just like to say that going to Costa for a double shot, skinny latte and raspberry and white chocolate muffin is a rather simple joy. I just wish there was more to the seating area so I didn't have to take-away. It's in a Waterstones, so most in the book store, but it could be quite the social point otherwise.

That's the good thing, now to the gripe.

I'm used to being judged by appearance, to odd looks and muttered comments, I'm even used to loud abuse. I had years of it, and though it's hurtful, I can at least shrug most of it off. I got fairly used to things like comments on my weight, when at a work-based quiz night, after scoring highly in many aspects (TV, Film, Music, Literature, Politics, Science), I helped win a section on "Food, Drink and the Kitchen" with questions on foreign food one of my team-mates in the quiz said "Well, I'm not surprised. You obviously like your food a lot."

I got lot to a load of things that people associate with it, because quite frankly, in some cases there is a logical connection. So, I can see it.

Years ago, when I worked on Housing Benefit as agency staff, I had a group of friends there. We were the 'young people' of the office, and amongst them was Ping, who had a very cute hooded sweatshirt that she used to wear when kicking about in her flat. It was cute, and she highly recommended them. It was a few years before I could find one in my size, and I got one before I ever heard the term 'chav'.

I liked my 'hoodie', it was thick, so it was warm, and it also helped disguise my figure slightly. If it started a small summer drizzle, it had a hood. If there was a cold winter breeze, my ears and back of my neck could stay warm. I still like my 'hoodie', because of these things, although now I'm slightly swimming in the thing (it being 3XL, and me taking L/XL now).

Today, it was warm when I set off down to town, so I decided to not wear a coat atop everything else. Most people would probably gasp at that, as I usually wear a coat to hide myself during the heights of summer. Everything was doing well, until the walk back, as I was sipping my double shot skinny latte on the beach promenade, and a grey cloud starting dripping lightly. "No worries," thought I, "for I have sensible fabric hood." So up flipped said hood, five people walked by whilst I had the hood up, every single one of them shot me a dirty look.

I can only think this is down to the reputation of the hoodie in culture today, and it's rather upsetting, that something I enjoy so much and feel so comfortable in, is ruined by the reputation of some people who have used it as a badge and that people can not see behind it.

I wonder if there might have been more conflicting image if I'd been sucking back on Starbucks coffee instead. Hehe, Chav Hipsters. Chivsters.