Aldi fans can now get a tattoo in stores that look like Specialbuys
Aldi has unveiled the UK's first-ever batch of tattoos designed to look like several popular Specialbuy items customers can get during their food shop. The supermarket created the tattoos to celebrate some of its most iconic, customer-favourite items from the middle aisle that many shoppers often can't resist browsing.
Research commissioned by Aldi has revealed that the younger generations are rejecting the traditional view that tattoos must be a permanent commitment. The study of 2,000 Brits found two-fifths (43%) Gen Z'ers believe tattoos are part of an "evolving canvas" that can be updated and refreshed over time.
Up to 45% of Brits would even consider getting a tattoo related to a brand or product they genuinely love. Over half (57%) of Gen Z and Millennials admit they see tattoos as a fashion accessory rather than a permanent commitment.
Amongst those with tattoos, a third (36%) of inked Brits have wanted to remove old tattoos or looked for ways to hide or create new works from their current ones. The survey also revealed Brits' fear of tattoo regret, and over half of the nation (58%) have considered using temporary tattoos as an alternative.
The research comes as Aldi reveals its bizarre tattoo collection, celebrating customers' obsession with the supermarket's ever-changing Specialbuy range. The popular aisle gets refreshed every Thursday and Sunday, offering an eclectic mix of items alongside the weekly food shop.
Full list of temporary tattoos available at Aldi:
Pilates Machine
Hanging Egg Chair
Kamado BBQ
Kayak
Air Fryer
Garden Tool Shed
Lawn Mower
Paddling Pool
Aldimania Sliders
Stand Mixer
From everyday essentials that become instant sell-outs to bizarre seasonal items that spark social media frenzies, each tattoo design represents a product that has achieved fame among Aldi shoppers. One of the newest successes to be given the tattoo treatment is a Pilates machine.
When it launched in Australia last year, the Pilates machine took the internet by storm. British shoppers were given the chance to grab a Reformer Pilates Machine for £149.99, which saw queues form outside the supermarkets on launch day.
Julie Ashfield, Chief Commercial Officer at Aldi UK, said: "Our shoppers love our middle aisle — with products often going viral across social media and selling out fast. Now, thanks to our brand-new tattoos, shoppers can show off just how much they love Aldi Specialbuys!'
For those looking to (semi-) permanently commemorate their love for the middle aisle, shoppers can enter to win a selection of these limited edition Specialbuy tattoos by emailing their name and date of birth to specialbuytattoos@aldi.co.uk.
Competition entries can be submitted from midnight on August 6, 2025, to 11.59pm on August 22, 2025. Full terms and conditions apply.
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New Statesman
an hour ago
- New Statesman
Berlin's dark past and me
The platform was empty. It was a serene scene: the rain had stopped and the air smelled green, the trees showering droplets each time the wind blew. My mother and I carefully stepped around the puddles as we read the plaques on the very edge of the platform. 18.10.1941 / 1251 Juden / Berlin – Lodz. 29.11.1942 / 1000 Juden / Berlin – Auschwitz. 2.2.1945 / 88 Juden / Berlin – Theresienstadt. The Gleis 17 (Platform 17) memorial at Grunewald station on the western outskirts of Berlin commemorates the 50,000 Jews who were deported from the city to concentration camps by the Nazis. There are 186 steel plaques in total, in chronological order, each detailing the number of deportees and where they went. Vegetation has been left to grow around the platform and over the train tracks, 'a symbol that no train will ever leave the station at this track again', according to the official Berlin tourist website. Were we tourists? I wasn't sure. I paused at one plaque in particular: 5.9.1942 / 790 Juden / Berlin – Riga. My great-grandmother, Ryfka, was one of the 790 Jews deported to Riga on 5 September 1942. She was murdered three days later. Her husband, Max, had been arrested and taken as a labourer to the Siedlce ghetto the previous year. In 1942 he was shot and thrown into a mass grave. When I told people we were taking a family trip to Berlin, many brought up Jesse Eisenberg's 2024 film A Real Pain (released January 2025 in the UK), in which Eisenberg and Kieran Culkin play mismatched cousins on a tour of Poland, confronting the inherited trauma of their grandmother's Holocaust survival story. But when we first started planning our trip six years ago, that wasn't the idea at all. It wasn't supposed to be about Max and Ryfka. It was about their daughter, my grandmother, Mirjam, and my grandfather, Ali, whom we called Opa. Opa's ancestry enabled us to claim German citizenship. My mother, sister and I started this process in 2017 without really thinking about it. The UK had voted to leave the EU, and Brits with relatives from all over were looking for ways to retain an EU passport. The Global Citizenship Observatory estimates that 90,000 Brits have acquired a second passport from an EU country since 2016, not counting those eligible for Irish citizenship. Article 116(2) of the German Constitution states: 'Persons who surrendered, lost or were denied German citizenship between 30 January 1933 and 8 May 1945 due to persecution on political, racial or religious grounds are entitled to naturalisation.' The same applies to their descendants. Mirjam died in 1990, before I was born, and Opa in 2003 – both British and only British citizens. But we had his voided German passport, his birth certificate, the notice of statelessness he'd received when he came to England in 1936. It took two years, but on 3 June 2019, the three of us attended the embassy in Belgravia and were solemnly dubbed citizens of Germany. We received our passports a few weeks later. Subscribe to The New Statesman today from only £8.99 per month Subscribe My mother wanted to celebrate with a trip to Berlin – the city where her parents grew up, and which my sister and I had never visited. Five years later than planned, thanks to Covid travel bans, we made it, honouring Opa by sweeping through immigration on the passports he had posthumously gifted us. I was prepared for the attempts at schoolgirl German, the arguments over bus timetables, itineraries and whether or not it was acceptable to fare-dodge on the U-Bahn. What I wasn't prepared for was being struck down by tears on a suburban street, faced with the reality of how exactly I had come to be there and what my presence meant. Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, Berlin. Photo by Jon Arnold Images Ltd My grandfather's family made it out of Nazi Germany. So did my grandmother and her siblings. Her parents did not. Max and Ryfka were typical middle-class Berliners, owners of a profitable cigarette factory. They had three children: Fanny, Mirjam and Harry. The family lived in a five-storey apartment block with a dramatic art nouveau facade – an open-mouthed deity staring down as residents came and went – on Thomasiusstrasse, on the edge of the Tiergarten city park. Around the corner, in the same affluent neighbourhood, lived the boy who would become my grandfather, Ali. They used to play together as children. Two decades, multiple emigrations and an internment in Canada later, Ali married Mirjam. My mother was born two years later. I know all this thanks to her, her sister and their cousins. A few years before the Brexit vote, they had set out to consolidate everything we know about the family – sifting through documents, photos and letters, sharing recollections of their parents, writing down everything so the story would not be forgotten. I know, for example, that the basement of the house in Thomasiusstrasse was used for meetings of their Zionist youth movement long before emigration became an urgent issue. I know when and how the siblings fled Berlin to what was then British-occupied Palestine: Fanny going first to Denmark in July 1937, then to Palestine in February 1939, where she worked at the first haute couture fashion house in Israel. Mirjam left in April 1936 via a boat from Italy. She studied horticulture before eventually marrying Ali in 1951 and moving to England. Harry arrived in Palestine on 1 September 1937, his 16th birthday. And I know, from the letters we have, how often and how seriously all three urged their parents to sell the cigarette factory and leave Berlin, before it was too late. On the pavement outside the apartment block on Thomasiusstrasse, set into the cobblestones, gleamed the Stolpersteine. Any visitor to Berlin will find the streets scattered with these 'stumbling stones', small brass plates, each one a memorial to a victim of the Nazis who lived at that address: their name, year of birth, where and when they were killed. The commemorative art project, begun in 1992 by artist Gunter Demnig, has spread across Europe: there now are more than 116,000 stones, in 31 countries. The Stolpersteine for Max and Ryfka were laid in August 2014. My mother and her family attended; a clarinettist played klezmer music. There are eight stones for that single apartment block. The day before we visited, my mother had booked us on a tour of the Jewish quarter. Our guide told us that the aim of the Stolpersteine initiative was to compel confrontation and reflection, causing passers-by to stumble, both figuratively and physically, over this dark period of European history. Berlin is forthright about confronting its past – using art and architecture in innovative ways to do so. At the Holocaust memorial by the Brandenburg Gate, visitors get lost in an unnerving maze of concrete slabs. At the entrance to the Jewish Museum, the floors slope and the walls are set at odd angles, making the space difficult to navigate with confidence. The 'Garden of Exile' just outside the museum, designed by the Polish-American architect Daniel Libeskind to capture the disorientation of the refugee experience, is similarly slanted and boxed in by columns. The day we visited, it was raining again, the uneven cobbles slick and treacherous. The garden was empty. I slipped – and through my perhaps disproportionate tears realised there was a lot more to my new German passport than I had imagined. Everyone knows about the Holocaust. Six million Jews, more than a quarter of a million Gypsies, millions more Poles, Soviets, homosexuals and people with disabilities, systematically exterminated at death camps. I had always known that my family was in some way linked to it all, that the Holocaust was why we were in Britain in the first place, that I wouldn't be here were it not for my maternal grandparents being 'denied German citizenship… due to persecution on political, racial or religious grounds'. Hundreds of thousands of Jews fled the Nazis. Every Jewish family I know has a story: of how their ancestors escaped, and what happened to the ones who didn't. I knew long before I visited Berlin that there is nothing special about my family's history. But I had always seen it as just that: history. The Jewish Museum's core exhibition charts the history of Jews in Germany from medieval times to the present day. The final section looks at descendants of Holocaust victims and refugees who chose to restore their German citizenship – and why they made that decision. Why had I done it? To get an EU passport after Brexit. To make it easier to work abroad one day. To give my future children the option to live anywhere in Europe. To skip the queues at immigration. All valid reasons. And all, suddenly, entirely inconsequential Staring at the memorial plaques on Platform 17, sitting on the steps of the apartment block on Thomasiusstrasse, losing my footing in the Garden of Exile, I felt myself slot into the narrative, the next chapter of a story that is both unfathomable and at the same time utterly unexceptional. Opa died when I was 12. He was so proud of being British. I never asked him how he would feel about us using the trauma of his past to become German for the sake of convenience. I'd always thought he'd like the idea of us reclaiming his rightful heritage, but in Berlin it seemed less clear. But I do think he would have liked the fact that we were all there in Berlin, on the streets where he and his wife grew up, laughing and crying together, realising our mother-and-daughters getaway had ended up a lot like Eisenberg's A Real Pain after all. The three of us lost in reverie outside the apartment block, picturing my grandmother coming and going. A sign by the door was engraved in looping gothic script. It looked like a memorial plaque. We struggled to decipher first the letters, then the German. Eventually we resorted to Google Translate, and discovered in lieu of the profound message we had expected, a polite request for guests to please wipe their feet. [See also: Rachel Reeves' 'impossible trilemma'] Related
Finextra
2 hours ago
- Finextra
What Is Vibe Coding? A Beginner's Guide to the Coding Movement You Can't Ignore: By Raktim Singh
What does it mean to "vibe code"? Why Gen Z Is Changing the Way We Program Programming used to entail spending long hours staring at black-and-white terminals and fixing syntax problems in silence. Now, a new movement called Vibe Coding is changing the way the next generation interacts with code. This isn't simply a cool trend on TikTok. Vibe Coding is a big change in culture. It changes how coding looks and feels in the age of AI, low-code tools, and learning that is led by creators. In this post, we'll talk about: • What is Vibe Coding? • How it got started and why it's so popular • How it may be used in real life • The positive and negative sides of Vibe Coding • Who should think about it • What skills, tools, and mentality are needed? • This refers to the implications for tech businesses and their hiring strategies. So, what does it mean to vibe code? Vibe coding is the art of writing code that feels natural, creative, collaborative, and entertaining. It mixes: • Music or background noise while working • Beautiful code environments (such as custom themes, VS Code + AI copilots) • Conversation starters through tools like ChatGPT/Gemini • Community coding (through livestreams, Discord, GitHub co-sessions) • Quickly making prototypes with AI tools that don't need codes • Learning by changing a code that already exists instead of starting again It's coding with flow. With mood. With a vibe. You could say it's the opposite of "boring" or mechanical programming. It can change, look appealing, and raise dopamine levels, and AI often helps it. How did vibe coding get started? Three cultural elements came together to create Vibe Coding: 1. The rise of AI copilots, like Codeium, GitHub Copilot, and Replit Ghostwriter Coding used to require writing everything from scratch, but now it means organizing, prompting, and modifying ideas made by AI. 2. People who make content and livestreams Creators streamed their coding sessions on sites like YouTube, Twitch, and TikTok, using lo-fi tunes, interesting UI designs, and laid-back commentary. Gen Z and millennial students connected. 3. The rise of low-code and GenAI With tools like Bubble, Glide, Replit, Framer, and AI platforms like ChatGPT, LearnML, and Vercel AI SDK, it was easier to make apps, websites, and automations. As these factors came together, a new group of coders emerged. They didn't have to have a CS degree, but they wanted to develop quickly, learn swiftly, and look good doing it. Where Is Vibe Coding Being Used? Vibe coding isn't only about looks; it's being used in a lot of other fields: 1. Indie Hackers and Creative Tech Vibe coding is a quick way for creators and indie developers to make MVPs and landing pages, notably in music, fashion, gaming, and productivity. 2. New businesses and side projects Entrepreneurs are using vibe coding tools like Replit and ChatGPT to make prototypes of AI tools, portfolio sites, bots, and even commercial SaaS products. 3. Hackathons and student projects College students and others in boot camps are learning to code not from books, but by watching YouTube videos, remixing projects, and employing AI helpers. 4. Builders and freelancers Freelancers on Fiverr and Upwork are increasingly utilizing low-code, AI-first workflows to build websites and automate processes, often enhanced by developer setups that prioritize a positive atmosphere. 5. AI and Prompt Engineering Prompt engineers have become integral to this trend, using structured natural language as code to create AI agents, workflows, and tools. ✅ Benefits of Vibe Coding 1. Quick Learning Curve: AI copilots, visual builders, and remixing GitHub projects all help you learn faster. 2. Not as scary It goes against the idea that coding is hard, uninteresting, or exclusively for people who are good at math. 3. Very expressive Vibe coders see code as art and make it their own by customizing themes, adding music, and making it their own. 4. Build first, then think. It promotes experimenting based on curiosity instead of tutorials that are full of theory. 5. Open and welcoming You don't need a degree in computer science. Only Wi-Fi, curiosity, and rudimentary tools. ⚠️ Things to watch out for: Not a profound understanding If you rely too much on AI ideas, you may not understand basic logic very well. Not Being Able to Think Clearly Complex problem-solving can be harder without formal reasoning or data structures. Difficult to Scale or Keep up. Vibe-coded projects might not use the best methods for testing, version management, or making things bigger. 4. Bias in resumes Some employers may not appreciate experience with AI or low-code as much as they should (but this is changing quickly). 👥 Who Should Give Vibe Coding a Shot? Vibe Coding is great for: • Students who want to build portfolios and get internships • Freelancers who want to get things done faster with fewer tools • Non-tech founders who want to make MVPs • Designers and marketers who want to learn no-code and AI skills • Prompt engineers who want to make GenAI workflows But even experienced engineers can benefit from Vibe setups for quick prototyping, testing AI agents, or just taking a break from "serious" coding. Here is what you need to know before starting with Vibe Coding: You can't just plug in and play with Vibe Coding. To do well, you need to know the basics of programming (JS/Python is useful). • A decent code editor, such as Replit or VS Code with extensions • You should know how to use GitHub and understand version control. • AI copilots, such as ChatGPT, Gemini, or Codeium, are tools that assist with coding tasks. • Tools that don't need a lot of coding, such as Glide, Webflow, Bubble, and • Communities like Discord, YouTube coding channels, and Reddit forums • Have a good taste in music or enjoy relaxing YouTube playlists! How do tech companies benefit from this? Tech firms, especially those that work in edtech, productivity, or tools, can learn a lot from and help the Vibe Coding movement. 1. Finding talent Vibe developers are creative, quick, and they frequently learn on their own. They make live portfolios that are perfect for jobs in product, frontend, no-code, or AI assistants. 2. Rethinking the Developer Experience (DevX) People appreciate GitHub Copilot, Replit, Codeium, and Framer because these tools help users achieve a flow state. Companies should make sure that their APIs, SDKs, and platforms meet the needs of this generation. 3. Improving skills and using internal tools Internal teams can leverage Vibe workflows to teach citizen developers and automate simple activities with low-code and GenAI. 4. Market Positioning Companies that employ vibe coding in their design, documentation, onboarding, and other areas will draw in Gen Z users, creators, and early adopters. How Vibe Coding and AI Are Very Similar AI is what makes Vibe Coding possible. It fuels the tools, makes them easier to use, and lets people interact with code in this new way. This is how: AI is a coding partner, not just a tool. Vibe coders see AI helpers like ChatGPT, GitHub Copilot, Gemini, Replit Ghostwriter, and Claude as partners, not simply tools. These technologies help with the following: • Functions that finish themselves • Break down complicated code • Offer suggestions for best practices • Fix and improve the logic. • Make boilerplate code or even whole UI layouts. This lets programmers keep their "vibe" going while AI does the hard work. 2. The New Syntax is Natural Language. Vibe developers don't memorize syntax; instead, they write out what they want in simple English and let AI build the framework. Large language models (LLMs) make it possible to go from "writing code" to "prompting code." This means "Make a responsive navbar with a logo and login button" is now easy to turn into usable HTML/CSS in seconds. 3. GenAI Sparks Prototyping and Creativity With AI tools that create code, images, videos, text, and data changes, Vibe developers can build entire applications with minimal effort. This speeds up innovation and experimentation, which is what the vibe movement is all about. 4. AI Makes Vibe Coding Easy to learn. AI makes things fair for everyone. Students, freelancers, artists, and others who don't code can now build: • By changing templates and using tools that ask questions, you can create chatbots, AI agents, portfolio sites, and automation scripts without needing extensive coding knowledge. 5. AI Promotes a "Learn by Doing" Way of Thinking Vibe developers typically learn by working with AI, asking it questions, constructing things with it, and fixing them together. This way of learning by talking is extremely different from using textbooks. AI is not only a tool for vibe coding; it is what makes it happen. Vibe Coding is a mix of coding, creativity, AI assistants, and flow. The Vibe is Real: A Final Thought Coding isn't the end of traditional programming; it's the start of a new coding culture that is more creative, open, and AI-enhanced. It's not about getting rid of developers. It's about giving more individuals the tools they need to code without being afraid and with delight. As AI makes it easier to get started, we may soon see the meaning of "coding" change from typing to coordinated workflows, visual blocks, and conversational purposes. Until then, open your editor, play that lo-fi music, and make something great. The vibe is beckoning.
Scotsman
3 hours ago
- Scotsman
How much have concert ticket prices risen in the space of 20 years?
Why have concert tickets not fallen in line with inflation - and could newer record deals be one of the causes of gigflation? Sign up to our daily newsletter Sign up Thank you for signing up! Did you know with a Digital Subscription to Edinburgh News, you can get unlimited access to the website including our premium content, as well as benefiting from fewer ads, loyalty rewards and much more. Learn More Sorry, there seem to be some issues. Please try again later. Submitting... 2025's biggest issue in the music scene happens to be one that affects many audiences across the UK. With smaller venues closing and acts adopting more arena shows than traditional tours, could that be the reason why ticket prices have skyrocketed in recent years? Digital marketing experts Dark Horse studied some of 2025's biggest concerts and how ticket prices have increased over a period of 20 years. When did the price of going to a concert become almost akin to a monthly mortgage payment in 2025? That might sound like hyperbole, but if there has been one predominant issue in the world of music throughout the past year, it once again stems from the price of seeing some of our favourite artists when they tour the United Kingdom. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Be it dynamic pricing or the cost of logistics for shipping entire stage productions to the country, there seems to be a real problem as more and more people are struggling to afford what was once considered a beloved pastime for many Brits. But there is more to these costs than simply musicians and management wanting a bigger slice of the pie; other contributing factors also have to be taken into account, including a lack of smaller, grassroots venues, dwindling physical album sales and, according to today's study, the consolidation of tour venues into arena-centric schedules. Bigger venues, bigger crowds – and of course, with that, bigger expenses to cover. Digital marketing experts Dark Horse analysed concert tickets for a selection of top artists, comparing the price in 2005 to 2025, to see whether the cost of seeing them live had kept in line with inflation or outstripped it, and how the UK's median hourly wage compares to the cost of tickets. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad They sourced the cost of tickets 20 years ago through ticket stub archives and eBay, and compared them to the face value price many paid for to see some of this year's biggest shows. Sadly, their findings demonstrate a trend that could see concerts, with many music fans priced out of going to shows, sooner rather than later. How much have concert ticket prices risen since 2005? Dark Horse found that the cost of concert tickets remained the same for some artists, but the bigger acts have seen huge increases over the course of 20 years - and it could continue. | Canva Of the artists that Dark Horse sampled, they showed that ticket prices have far outpaced inflation over the years. The average ticket price for the artists listed has risen from £34.82 in 2005 to £132.90 in 2025, representing an average increase of over 280% over the two decades. If prices had kept pace with inflation, the average ticket price would only be around £60.61 today, highlighting that the actual increase is more than double the rate of inflation. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad The price hikes are also more drastic with some artists compared to others; while Robbie Williams and Busted have managed to maintain a low, affordable price to see them perform, the spike in the cost to see Beyoncé on tour was the most dramatic. In 2005, to see her perform would cost fans £27.50, but in 2025, to see her on the 'Cowboy Carter' tour, fans were expected to stump up £224.85 - an increase of 718%. It's a similar situation with Oasis, who in 2005 could be seen for a mere £32.50 to £148.50 - an increase of 357%. That's if you managed to avoid dynamic pricing for those shows, too. How many hours would I have had to work to see Oasis back in 2005? Though Oasis, according to the study, are hardly the worst when it comes to ticket price increases, they have been the talking point throughout the last eight months when it comes to the price of concerts, and again, the problems with a dynamic pricing model. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad In 2005, you would have to work 3 hours and 1 minute on a median UK hourly wage to see Oasis on tour, but two decades later, that has increased to 7 hours and 56 minutes on a median UK hourly wage to see them play. Compare that to Robbie Williams (not to cause issues between the two artists), in 2005, it would take 4 hours and 11 minutes to pick up a ticket to see the former Take That member. In 2025, that has only increased by 14 minutes (4 hours 25 minutes) to grab a ticket; a similar situation with Busted too, according to the study. What has led to the increase in concert ticket prices? It clearly can't just be inflation, right? If we were to adjust ticket prices in line with inflation, a ticket to see Oasis in 2025 should have cost £57.20, while to see Coldplay would have cost £62.40, according to Dark Horse's study. There are several factors considered why concert tickets have become a luxury rather than a privilege; AJ Sutherland, a production manager who has worked with artists like Tate McRae and Mura Masa, explained that the surge in concert ticket prices is a trend rooted in the economics of the modern music business. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad He connects this shift to the decline of physical music sales, the rise of streaming, and the consolidation of tours into arena-centric schedules. "Back in 2005, artists might have played 20 club shows across the UK," Sutherland notes. "Now they do four arena gigs in major cities and make the same ticket sales in a fraction of the time.' He adds that this new model is not only more efficient but also far more profitable for major artists. Despite the financial benefits for top-tier acts, Sutherland also highlights the serious negative impact on the wider music ecosystem; this shift has led to the closure of grassroots venues, reduced touring opportunities for independent artists, and left fans facing premium prices with a limited choice of shows. Production costs have also driven up the price of putting on concerts, from the cost of fuel for our buses and trucks, wages for an entire crew of lighting techs, to the price of renting state-of-the-art equipment and the venues themselves have escalated dramatically. Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad But the industry shift, in an era where physical and streaming sales are not what they once were, newer 360 deals might have a part to play in the increase in ticket prices. Traditional record deals would see a label's primary source of income coming from a percentage of album sales, but as that is no longer viable, more and more labels have adopted 360 deals that take a cut not only of their music sales, but other revenue streams too including a cut of any live performances. This partnership with the label can lead to a stronger effort to push for higher ticket prices, more expensive VIP packages, and a wider range of high-cost offerings to increase the total revenue generated from a tour, shifting the entire focus from simply selling records to monetising the artist's brand and live performance at every opportunity. As Dark Horse concluded their study, the question does seem incredibly pertinent: is the joy of live music becoming financially inaccessible? Advertisement Hide Ad Advertisement Hide Ad Do you think that musicians or labels have a responsibility to ensure fans can still see their shows without going into financial ruin, or is it simply a case of supply meeting demand? Let us know your thoughts - or how we can fix the problem - by leaving your comments and ideas below.
