Two days ago, I saw a bro wearing this shirt in Peckham Rye. In my hood. There he was. Brazenly. Wearing. This shirt. On the same train platform as me. I know for a fact it costs $359. I can’t even be bothered to work out what that is in pounds I’m so annoyed. Shitballs. Who does this fucking chancer think he is? He saw me checking out his look too. Which makes it quadtrebley worse. It’s not enough that this dude was rocking a banging shirt, but he saw me clock it too. He knew, that I knew. I knew that he knew. And he just looked away. If you are in any doubt about how I felt at that moment, I suggest you rewatch Breakdance: The Movie (Breakin’ for my US brethren). Check Ozone’s expression when Electro Rock wheel out that stocky lass to wack all up in his face. He knows he’s been burned. And so did I.

It’s by Blue Blue Japan and I scribbled about it back in March. I now hate it.

Yes, I’m a colossal babus. I know I sound like a basket of bitches. I don’t care. Action must be taken. I must face my nemesis again. And this time I’ll be ready.

The only way to out-Blue Blue Japan this brah, is to go shit-large with the Amex and hoover up a everything Blue Blue Japan. Then I need to wear it all, at once, constantly, on the off chance I’ll peep this dude again. Too much effort? Welcome to the life playa.

I need to swag-up and the best place for Blue Blue Japan is Okura, their online store. My gots to get list is as follows…

This indigo jersey panelled T. It’s about 75 quids.

This double gauze, hand patchwork shirt. It’s £113.

These insane, indigo dyed, ‘bassen’ plaid, ankle length trousers. They’re gonna come in at 120 bills.

240 will snare me this blue denim mid-length coat.

These indigo printed, ‘tegumi’ pattern shoes cost £131.

It’s a tie. It’s got a thing on it. It runs 100 coins.

Shit, I would never even wear this fucking thing. But ima gonna buy it, just to fuck up the interloper. Damn. That’s another 88 large.

This is a fucking hand towel. But it’s only 18 quid, so I’m adding it to the pile. I’ll just carry it about or some shit.

And obvs, I’ll need me some incence sticks. So I can leave my Blue Blue smell in his area. With any luck he’ll smell it for hours after our encounter. He’ll know who’s boss. Oh yeah.

It’s a lot of stuff. It’s a lot of papes. It’d be more cost effective to just cop this look…

188 quid and I can look like this. Motherfucking slub cotton ‘yukata’ kimono with gradation gold fish in the area. I’m not entirely sure I could pull it off. I suspect I might be subject to considerable ridicule. I imagine my boo will leave me. But that Blue Blue brah will know better than to trespass his steez in my manor again. I’ll be the big winner. I’ll be wearing a dress. But I’ll be the winner.