Entry-level pieces present a conundrum for the menswear compulsive. On the one hand they’re an affordable way of adding some freshness to your rotation. On the other, you risk bumping into someone else wearing the same thing, which as we know is medically proven to lead to deep vein thrombosis. Read More
My girl is away in New York on business — a whirl of fashionable meetings in Soho House and dinners at The Wythe. I am at home in Peckham watching Richard Osman’s House of Games.
I’m not jealous. No actually, I am jealous. I’m scrolling through Linkedin looking for a new job, she’s shopping in Williamsburg. I’m writing metres of cover letters, she’s pinging me lists of celebs she’s spotted.
I mean, yes, she’s got a great job, one I’m uniquely unqualified for. And yes, she works incredibly hard and has a positive can-do attitude, qualities that make me feel queasy. But even so, it just seems fundamentally unfair.
I decided to watch Richard Osman, the massively successful presenter, author and TV personality, to get some inspiration. I thought that studying a dude at the top of his game might provide me some insight into what it takes for me to realise my personal ambitions. Twenty five hours of simplistic word games and ironic prizes later, I have learned nothing. Other than my geography is shocking.
Fitted down jackets, contoured to the body, often with a hood. Much like anything featuring Jamie Laing or rabies, they are to avoided at all costs.
We all know the media is rarely critical of clothing — everything has to be wonderful because the advertising department says so. But I don’t have that problem. I can tell it like I see it. And besides, I’m often asked by non-menswear obsessives for a steer that doesn’t require the complexities of a Japanese proxy service, so here goes…
If you are considering buying a Uniqlo Ultra Light Down Parka or any garment that looks even vaguely like one, don’t. If you already own one, give it to someone, anyone, donate it to charity, give it to Coats4Calais, just get it out your house.
For me 2022 has been diabolical. A full-tilt shit of a year. One that’s made me mourn for the comparative certainty of lockdown.
Mostly I’ve been looking for a new job. Which, it turns out, involves more work than an actual job, but for 100% less money. Worse still, it means spending day after day on Linkedin. Navigating an endless loop of humble-bragging and pound-shop euphoria in the hope that someone’s looking to hire a professional grouch.
Regular readers will be familiar with my antipathy towards football. Never been into it. Grubby, shouty, boring. I’ve spent my life telling anyone who’ll listen how rubbish football is. But yes, the carpet bombing of peak time broadcasts and daily articles arguing whether Foden or Bellingham is better at kicking stuff have claimed another victim.
I’m now watching the football.
Prior to the Goal Cup I was surprised so many people were vocal about Qatar’s medieval human rights record, yet no one seemed bothered that we were all about to be subjected to weeks of blokes jogging about on a big field before pretending to fall over.
But the thing is, I needn’t have worried. After a lifetime of dodging anything soccer shaped, I’ve finally discovered what football really is and why so many people love it.
Quite by accident, I recently found myself trying to cross through Oxford Circus just as the Christmas lights were being switched on. The crowds were terrifying. It was like trying to squeeze through a Spartan phalanx made of Adidas Gazelles, H&M bags and iPhones. It’s hardly surprising we haven’t solved the climate crisis, the rise of the far right or the economy, we’re still a race bewitched to a standstill by a string of coloured bulbs.
Yup, it’s mid-November again. An awkward time for the clothing enthusiast. Late-season pieces are still dropping, but you know the sales are around the corner. It’s a weird liminal space, neither one thing or the other: pulling the trigger on a purchase can feel frivolous, but what if the piece you want sells out before discount time? What’s worse being broke or missing out? Plus of course, the festivities are incoming, and with them the joyous inconvenience of having to buy other people stuff.
Being too into clothing is both a delight and a curse.
In an attempt to draw pleasure from the idea of appreciation rather than ownership, here’s a round-up of pieces that have caught my eye but not (yet) my wallet.
