Life at the apex of modern menswear is not without its challenges. New shoes that start to rub ten yards out the door. Realising you’re the only one dressed like a Pyrenees goat herd at the leaving drinks. Stuff on websites that is clearly wrongly… Read More
Something about a nine litre bottle of Whispering Angel. Someone says, “calanques.” An endless coach ride. Irregular paving stones. A fountain chatters in the darkness. Waiting for the lift. Why is the carpet covered in Tyrells? There’s a nobility in drunkenness. Particularly in France. But… Read More
I know I can be prone to a mildly nihilistic outlook. But everywhere I turn these days, the spectre of tragedy is prodding me with his scythe. One minute the world is going to burn, the next drown. Capitalism, it is broadly agreed, will be… Read More
In a previous missive I revealed I’d been watching too many films. Although that’s not the half of it. I deliberately didn’t mention all the TV I’ve also been watching, for fear of appearing even more of a social inadequate than I doubtless am. But… Read More
The only reason I visit Shoreditch these days is Goodhood. If any non-Londoners are in any doubt, the area’s once progressive reputation is long dead. Menswearists Present went a while back, Sunnysiders is shuttered and if you’re looking for Artwords books you’ll now have to… Read More
If I was making a horror film you know what I wouldn’t do? I wouldn’t include a scene where there’s a TV on in the room showing: A: a vintage horror film. B: some blunt metaphorical foreshadowing. I watched Taiwanese shocker The Sadness the… Read More
