Annalisa Barbieri tries fashion books for size and is delighted with the definitive paean to nylon

Beneath the glassy surface of Loch Crinan lurks a beast: the silent, mantled scallop. To eat them you have to meet them...

IT WAS just 24 hours after my marathon fishing day on the Tweed, that I wrote of in my last column. And only the promise of being able to fish the dry fly for perhaps the last time this year got me out of the house and by the water's edge again. My shoulders ached and my hands were clenched in a permanent rod-holding position.

LAST YEAR I wrote about salmon, my most favourite fish of all (living, not dead). I said that it was facing extinction and that I would not eat salmon, wild or farmed, ever again unless I had caught it on a rod and line myself and it had had a fair fight. Since then, I have refined this to not killing one ever, unless it was so badly injured that returning it to the water would be crueller than priesting it, ergo I will never eat salmon again.

Annalisa Barbieri on Fishing

Annalisa Barbieri on the art of curating a treasure-chest of 1960s photography by the great Ron Traeger

You can't buy your favourite cleanser on the internet - yet. But you can browse in peace and there are tips galore. ANNALISA BARBIERI goes surfing

In 1977 Annalisa Barbieri went to Kathryn Blair's new school. The absence of boys did not mean she got a good education

Annalisa Barbieri on Fishing

Floaty muslin and minimalist blinds are being usurped by heavier, traditional window fabrics. Lights out, says ANNALISA BARBIERI