My girl caught up on my last few posts last night. She seemed concerned by the apparent through-line of despair and downright morbidity. I explained I was fine. But, to change the subject and illustrate I retained some remnants of joy and optimism, I enthused… Read More
You should need a licence to wear a backpack on the London transport system. Ostensibly for carrying your junk, a backpack’s primary function these days is to inconvenience others. Backpack wearers on the Tube are, to an individual, toffee-brained, toddling narcissists. Banging into things, forcing… Read More
Sun’s out – guns have no place in the equation. If you want to stick a vest on and lope about in your no socks, your thin-leather loafers and your calf-hugging denim, fake-baked, with your big fucking arms swinging about like a zoo creature, then… Read More
Nepenthes lands in London and straight away their brands pop up on other local retailers. Not sure why or how that works? Nevertheless, Mr Porter has apparently woken up to Needles. And outside of the Nepenthes store itself, Garbstore has become the first London retailer… Read More
“Thank you so much for waiting so long”, said the store manager. “This is a game changer”, a fellow shopper whispered to me. “Sure you can take photos”, the sales assistant said, “I don’t see why that would be a problem.” I arrived an hour… Read More
