Never was a company more aptly named than the Best Belt Company. This magnificent belt, the apotheosis of the belt maker's art if I may so, has brought unaccustomed luxury to my trouser area and all for a shilling short of six pounds for goodness sake. Until happening upon this belt on Amazon - while looking for anything new by Milan Kundera as it happens - I had been content with a belt described as leather-look. In essence, this was a cardboard belt, bought from a stall on Leeds market, with a leathery-style veneer, which soon began to wear off, and not, I might add, under any particular stress from what you might call leather-scuffing activity (we're none of us getting any younger). Quite frankly I was finding it more and more irksome spending my spare time crayoning over the bald patches on the belt with black felt tip, not to mention the huge embarrassment when a sudden rainstorm caused the painted-in bits on the belt to run down the front of my beige slacks leaving black smudges all over what delicacy compels me to call the "area of engagement." Quite frankly, it looked like I had had an encounter with a dancer from a minstrel show, or a Liverpudlian young lady who had used a particularly dark shade of spray tan, neither of which was the case, for the age-related reasons I hinted at earlier. Well, no more. This handsome black belt from those incomparable artistes at the Black Belt Company has brought new glory to the area between my navel and knee-caps. No more shall I cover up a pathetic strip of cardboard by wearing my shirt outside my trousers. It's tucking in for me from now on, and should I draw admiring glances from young ladies of my acquaintance as I feel sure I shall, I shall proudly point to the area in question and declare: "Come on, have a feel. It's real leather!"