There are a few things that make up my wardrobe: gloves (especially fingerless ones in Winter for typing with), denim jeans (black or blue) hoodies, and sunglasses. I have a pair of vintage Ray-Bans that I've been told "never go out of style".

But yet I've received quite a lot of flak for wearing them. I've had several people over the years make somewhat negative comments about me - usually behind my back or from some other direction, usually from afar. I can always hear them because I have very good perceptive abilities, including a keen sense of hearing - all developed over the years I spent at , that were moronically planned aloud, so I was able to hang on every word and learn what they had planned for me.

Years ago there was a film shoot for some commercial (for a product I'd probably not even heard of) in my neighbourhood, and residents in the area were allowed to attend and have a look at what was going on. I went along, packing my sunglasses seeing as it was a hot Summer morning; not a cloud in the sky, and the sun was beating down on me.

After a bit of trouble actually finding the location of the shoot, I arrived and tried mingling with the shallow film student types hanging around, as well as some of the people involved in the shoot. You would have thought I was talking to a bunch of Victoria Beckhams, there were so many cold shoulders. That's Hollywood for you.

Anyway, I got to sitting on the bonnet of somebody's car - which turned out to be a mistake seeing as one of the pleasant folk working on the set came over and told me to get off it and go elsewhere, or something like that. I went over to the tree nearby - thinking that nobody owned that, apart from the municipality. And they certainly wouldn't mind if leaned up against it. They could at least have provided a few directors chairs for the day.

Anyway, long story short: when they decided to take a break, the owner of the car walked across the road and glared at me as I sat on the grassy bank.

"It's always the ones with the sunglasses", he muttered as he walked past. And the stunt driver I'd been talking to who was there for the shoot muttered in agreement - even though he was wearing a pair too!

Anyway, I got out of there and went back to my place, thinking that when the shooting recommenced, I might get tied to a tree with cables and rammed with a generator while it was all caught on film or something, for my earlier infraction.

Okay, so that time I wasn't entirely blameless. But the number of times I've been insulted unprovoked outweighs just that one episode, tenfold.

Another day I was out walking, with sunglasses on, minding my own business, when I saw two girls approaching from the opposite side of the road. "He looks like he's in mourning," the one said. The other agreed, replying typically: "I know."

What? In mourning just because of dark sunglasses? Next people are going to say that I'm blind, even though I don't walk with a cane or a seeing-eye-dog.

"Thinks he's cool" - that's one I get a lot, too.

Yeah, I tend to remember most times I've ever been mocked or slighted in my life. It's dreadful. You have no idea. I always focus on the negative in life, because to me there is no positive, you see.

I seem to remember getting less of this sort of attitude when I didn't wear sunglasses years ago. And sometimes I think maybe I should go back to not wearing them. But the rebellious part of me doesn't want to give in; compromise just to please them. If I want to wear sunglasses I should be allowed to. Other people do it so why can't I?

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