To those of us who live in the Northern Hemisphere there is that moment when August ends but the summer does not. The evenings are still warm, light clothes are still in order and summer drinks such as Pimms and languid gin and tonics are not quite gauche to order. Tonight is one of those nights and as I cycled through Hyde Park dodging the odd leaf which had given up the ghost prematurely I turned my mind to defining luxury.
Every form of luxury from a leather case to a deserted island. From 30 minutes of reading a novel undisturbed by friend or foe to slipping on a tailored shirt. Goods, services, tangible things, an etherial moment all can be viewed as luxury to the beholder if not always by the observer. It can be the shortening of a journey so you get from A - B before the other 90% of the aircraft or the lengthening of check-out from your favourite hotel suite.
In essence luxury is about time. The extraordinary length of time a craftsman expends making something precious or the reduction in time a skilled concierge takes to get you exactly what you want.
Luxury is like a metronome that sometimes beats fast and sometimes slows down. The secret is that it moves to your pace. That's luxury.