Oh dear. Looks like this dude’s been fighting off Rolf Harris’ sexual advances. I say that, because hilariously, this jacket looks like it’s covered in paint splashes. These days, all you’ve got to do is mention the daft old celebrity painter, recently incarcerated for numerous… Read More
Buggies, buggies, buggies, Emily’s playing up, Harry put that down, the buggy won’t fit in the boot, buggies, buggies, fucking buggies. Sometimes, Peckham’s nu-fam-fam vibe gets a bit much. It’s difficult to sit outside, swilling a latte without a fucking Lottie or Georgina barging their… Read More
What is money anyways? It’s just paper right? Or numbers? I mean, I know we all agree money’s worth something. But that’s only because we all agree to agree. In actual terms it’s worth nothing. It’s just printed paper. And numbers. Numbers aren’t worth anything.… Read More
Patternedy jackets have been having a thang thang for a while. Meaning, there’s been loads for sale, but hardly any brosephs actually wearing them on them there streets. I bought a patterned jacket from Garbstore last summer. It featured a sand-rake pattern, you know, all… Read More
