I'm pretty certain that if my house was burning down, yes, I would go with the majority and want to grab my photographs over any other possessions. I'm going to be 39 this year, and already, memories of my early years are rather cloudy. In fact, my boys are only two and four and yet I recently had to rely on pictures to remind me which one was born with the Elvis quiff and which had an 80s-style spike. On the plus side, there's a fair few appalling haircuts in my history which I'm more than happy to have faded memories of. It's only in my nightmares that I'm now haunted by the dreadful bowl cut of 1985.