“You will not, under any circumstances put this in your column,” said the other half as we exited the tube station at South Kensington, him still looking shocked, me barely able to contain my delight at what had just occurred.

We had been standing in the carriage of a Piccadilly Line train, en route to my friend Dave’s sixtieth birthday party, when a young woman sat in a “priority seat” for seniors and the like stood up and said to my partner, “please have my place”. I watched as he declined with a flapping of hands and then spun around to face me, going into a panic-induced conversational mode in an effort to avoid eye contact with the would-be seat-donator. He began telling me, almost verbatim, about an article that he’d recently read in The New Yorker but I couldn’t focus as I was shaking with trapped laughter. Because while he’s a bit of a grey fox, he wears his age well, which made this all the more marvellous.
 
Getting older is an honour – too many people lost along the way for you to think fretting about a creased face is acceptable – but still, when we are forced to confront how other people view our wrinkles, well, it can sting. We all, me especially, like to delude ourselves that nothing much has changed over the years but that clock is ticking. Here’s how I know this to be true.

1.
My Instagram feed is full of ads recommending testosterone-boosting injections to ramp up your energy (and another thing).

2.
You have items in your wardrobe that are older than some of your colleagues. And you still wear them.

3.
You make cultural references that leave those same colleagues either staring at you blankly, or surreptitiously typing into Google to find out who the hell you’re talking about.

4.
You still think people use Google.

5.
You have a Facebook account, unused, but still there.

6.
On epic journeys you like to have a “real” map.

7.
When you go to the flower market, just as it’s opening on a Sunday morning, you pass the location of a long-gone nightclub where, on occasion and in your twenties, you might have been known to have exited at this very same time.

8.
Younger colleagues ask you questions that imply you were born in Victorian times. “Did they have cars when you were young? Or did you go everywhere by horse?

9.
You have friends who you have known for decades. People who have never failed you. Friendships that have endured even when you have worked together for 19 years.

10.
You get up at 06.00. With no effort.

11.
You need IT support. Constantly.

12.
You need arch support, also constantly.

13.
Your bathroom cabinet has creams that promise more miracles than Jesus.

14.
You think millennials are young people.

15.
As fashion edicts change about sock heights and the cut of jeans, you stay your course. It will come back around you think (correctly).

16.
You’d rather not drive at night.

17.
You click through on one of those testosterone ads to see what it entails. Shrunken testicles? Perhaps better to go for the Saturday afternoon nap alternative.

18.
You keep quiet about your age (partly because it takes a moment to recall the exact number).

19.
You’re dismayed when someone offers you their seat on the subway.

20.
You know stuff. Life stuff.

After the party we made the return journey by London Underground and stood up just as the train was entering Russell Square station. For some reason, the driver had to slam on the brakes, the train jolted and the other half fell backwards, landing on the lap of a young muscular man the size of a baby bison. But rather than complain at having a gentleman of a certain age perched on his knee like a mature lap dancer, he simply said, “are you OK sir?”.

 “I have been totally humiliated tonight,” muttered the other half as we finally exited the station. I proffered my arm for added stability. “And I am serious about the column,” he reiterated. Really, I don’t see how I could have had a more fun night out.

To read more columns by Andrew Tuck, click here.

What’s the weather like where you are (asks Jack Simpson)? Come rain or shine, here’s a pair of shoes, a bag and a piece of kit to keep you on your toes this weekend.

1.
Icebug running shoes 
Co-CEOs of footwear brand Icebug, David Ekelund and Tom Nilsson, are helping Swedes to get a grip. Navigating icy terrain isn’t easy but these kicks are keeping runners upright while out on winter trails. We recently visited Ekelund and Nilsson in Jonsered to learn more about the brand and how it’s setting its sights beyond the Nordics.
icebug.com

2.
Montblanc companion briefcase
A fine, khaki grain leather companion for day-to-day excursions with external pockets to keep essentials within reach. Its two top handles and detachable straps can transform the bag from briefcase to backpack to suit your needs. 
montblanc.com

3.
USM x Buchanan Studio The Side Cart
So you’re staying in? Good call. Fix yourself a drink or better yet, invite some friends round and wheel out the drinks trolley. If you don’t have one, here’s an option that features Münsingen-based USM’s signature chrome-plated steel engineering while embracing Buchanan Studio’s sleek London aesthetic. Neat. 
usm.com

In town for the Winter Olympics? Be sure to tune in to ‘Monocle in Milan’ for the latest news. But if you have some time on your hands you’ll want to know where to eat, what to buy and where to go. Fortunately, it’s all here in Monocle’s Milan City Guide, which can be downloaded as a map for when you’re on the move. Here’s one of our favourite spots to shop. 

Micamera, La Fontana
This bookshop contains some 7,000 photography titles, primarily focusing on the US from the 1970s onwards. One of Italy’s finest specialists in the genre, it attracted a creative crowd long before Isola became a trendsetting destination. Owners Flavio Franzoni and Giulia Zorzi regularly organise exhibitions and workshops with photographers and editors.

From the opening notes of “Ó Abre Alas” or “O Canto da Cidade”, Brazilians know that it’s time to celebrate: Carnival is here (writes Fernando Augusto Pacheco). From samba school parades to blocos (roving street parties), music plays a major part in Brazil’s annual festival, which begins today and stretches until Lent on 18 February. From Rio de Janeiro and São Paulo to Salvador and many cities further afield, revellers will don elaborate costumes to dance, sing and party.

Carnival is the beating heart of Brazilian culture, not to mention that it is also serious business for the economy and tourism industry. More than 50 million people are estimated to have taken part in celebrations across the country in 2025 and this year’s event is expected to generate 12bn Brazilian reais (approximately €1.94bn) in revenues. The music industry capitalises on the festive season to release new tracks made for dancing in the heat. Here are five notable songs that we think are worth remembering. For now, here’s the one about being sexy on a jet ski. Turn your speakers up.

‘Jetski’, Pedro Sampaio, MC Meno K, Melody 
This year’s Carnival belongs to Brazilian producer Pedro Sampaio, whose track “Jetski” captures the fun and playfulness of the event. Also a hit in Portugal, the song’s harsh beats and rapped lines are layered with melodic vocals to make anyone want to get up and dance. 

Find all the songs on Monocle’s Spotify playlist and hear a special episode about Carnival’s 2026 musical hits on ‘The Global Countdown’.

If you walk through the bylanes of Old Delhi, shouts and whistles will fill the air but you are not being catcalled (writes Mir Umar). Sitting atop the crammed buildings are the city’s pigeon-keepers, preserving the centuries-old tradition of kabootarbazi (pigeon flying). The birds fly free before returning on command to their master, guiding a flock to enter a wide iron cage where they are fed, doted on and pandered to.

This culture of rearing and training birds was popularised in the courts of Mughals, who used pigeons to send letters. One generous penpal, Mughal Emperor Jehangir, kept thousands of birds and compared kabootarbazi to the art of ishqbaazi (flirting). I am yet to understand why this is the case.

The sport – yes, they race – remains a favoured pastime and keepers take daily training sessions seriously, familiarising their flock with whistles and calls. As you can probably imagine, becoming a kabootarbazi master takes years of practice (perhaps this is what Emperor Jehangir was referring to.) 

In Old Delhi there’s no pigeon-proofing. Instead, terraces are terraformed to house and care for the intrepid birds who no longer carry a message. But it’s a piece of the city’s culture that has managed to endure. What a coup.