Autumn then. After a brief spell of luminous optimism — during the weirdest summer in living memory — it’s time to face facts. It’s getting chilly. What will that mean for viral infections already on the rise? And what about the tanking economy — didn’t someone mention catastrophic job losses just in time for Christmas? Trump seems to be balancing the books too — his tacit approval of humanity’s dark side is again stirring the angry and empty-headed. And Johnson’s keeping his head down. Is it better to have no leader or one who can’t tell the truth?
Scary times. Hole up, sit tight, ride it out. Stock up on tinned goods and buy a baseball bat. If you’ve got any hatches, now’s the time to batten them down.
Unfortunately your joyful floral shirts and printed shorts are now useless — fold them into plastic tubs and bury them in the garden. The end times are coming. You’ll need ready access to baked beans, toast, blankets and fresh water. And maybe a blazer like this. I mean, if doomsday lands on a Friday or Saturday night, you’re still going to want to look good.
This neat, but suitably gloomy looking jacket is by Japanese label Bru na Boinne. Over the last few days the brand has been pimping Instagram with their new range of ornate embroidered bomber jackets. But I’m not feeling them. A little too buoyant if you ask me — not quite the oblivion casual I’m after. This blazer on the other hand, has the balance bang on. Apparently it’s linen, but woven to give a wool-like feel. And I’m liking that nondescript brown — perfect for looting Lidl and vanishing into the darkness of the burnt-out city. Although we can’t not mention the velvet trim. Elevating the piece from the dank, those asymmetrical details manage to suggest both fun and foreboding. Like a Funeral Director in a Slug and Lettuce.
While this might be suitable for the impending Trumpocalypse, it might not be suitable for your purse. At around £400 it’s almost as terrifying as the tangerine Satan himself. But I guess you can console yourself that soon money as we know it will be worthless, so you might as well exchange it now for an unlined Japanese jacket.
Yeah, my mind is made up. When the pitchfork wielding hordes come for my tinned ravioli, I’m going to be wearing this blazer. Probably with a chunky scarf and cashmere beanie to keep out the cold. And presumably a pair of gardening gloves painted with Evo-Stik and dipped in broken glass.