BY DOMINIC WIGHTMAN Dear Truth, Last week I spent many hours looking for You in town. I had lost you. I was tired – of lifts and escalators, and overpowered by the sickly-sweet smell of perfume – when I left Selfridges. You seemed nowhere to be found. To escape the shallow like-seeking Instagram selfies and general hubbub of Oxford Street – its endless slalom between … Continue reading Dear Truth