I’m not surprised that nostalgia continues to dominate cultural conversation. After all, who’d want to live in the now?
A few notable things happened yesterday. While at Shoreditch House I yanked and yanked at a sliding metal door until my face went red, only to have a staff member explain that what I’d taken to be access to the swimming pool was in fact… Read More
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.
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… 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… Read More
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