The consequences of aging are well documented. Impossible hangovers, hair loss, lower back pain, wheezing, man-nappies… followed by a long slow death, postponed by medication and surveyed by increasingly impatient relatives.
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All posts filed under “Street style”
Dover Street Market Market: the good, the bad and the greedy
Let’s get this straight: Dover Street Market Market is not cool. It’s fabled, certainly. It’s spoken of with excitement, with breathless FOMO. It’s rare, it only occurs only once every five (or so) years. And it’s the only place you’ll find Comme des Garçons and… Read More
Just different enough
After my ramble about the Reebok x Needles Beatnik Moc (still on the fence, although my girl thinks they’re, “horrible“) it’s reasonable to assume I might suggest an alternative. And I haven’t had to stray from beneath the Nepenthes umbrella to find one.
A sense of impending doom, with sarcastic interludes
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… Read More
643 hours of theatrical sighing
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%… Read More
A shame of two halves
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… Read More