Imagine the weather was like this all summer, I was thinking, sitting on a bench on the Esplanade.

It was Tuesday, and Broughty was baking.

Two women were wild swimming, a dog bounded into the sea, a man jogged – taps aff.

It wasn’t just a warm summer’s day – it was hot in the way Dundee rarely is. More Fuerteventura than the Ferry.

This is what I was thinking when my phone pinged.

It was an odd alert – one I hadn’t seen before, from Instagram, but a private message, the sender of which I didn’t recognise.

“Hey Martel,” was the greeting, “I wonder if you can help me?”

I did not expect what followed.

Weird message requests for used tights and high-heeled boots

Brian asked for a pair of tights, preferably used and not washed, in return for cash.

I clicked on the inbox it had come from and discovered a tranche of messages from people I don’t follow – whereas those I do know fall into my normal mailbox.

Years of unseen messages suddenly came to light.

The week before, a man had asked for worn high-heeled boots – preferably over-the-knee – and that I’d worn, to be........

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