That time Ian Rankin came to Cross Cashmere HQ to drink whisky
In a scale of one to Scottish it's safe to say I fall pretty hard in the Scottish category. I hoover haggis, my dining room chairs are covered in artisan tartan and I will always go 'taps aff' when the temperature reaches a balmy 17 degrees or above.
However, even I was outdone witnessing one of our country's most worshippeded writers nurse a nip while clad in cashmere...
After the literary legend mocked our almost empty bottle of Aperol inhabiting the drinks cabinet *see, he is much more Scottish than me!* the flash bulbs got cracking and the interview commenced. That day now will now always be known as the afternoon a lovely gent came over to the six-year-old's house and introduced him to the wonders of Captain Underpants.
images by Brian Sweeney for Whiskeria magazine