Beams+ tends not to shock. But now and again, in amongst the almost John Lewis-ish plaid shirts, sensible chinos, crew necked knitwear, some heat protrudes. This is that heat. A boxy, over-the-head, nylon shirty-jacket.
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All posts tagged “The Hip Store”
Broadly that kind of piss
On the 24th of Christmas it’s traditional to be thinking of others. Gifts, wrapping, bags of nuts, decorative oranges impaled with cloves… broadly that kind of piss. The committed clothesman however, thinks of himself. Relentlessly refreshing e-store home pages in anticipation that, any second, they’ll… Read More
A thin-lipped pull on a party cigarette
These Astorflex shoes are so fucking Oi Polloi it comes as quite a shock to discover they don’t stock them. If a pair of shoes epitomises the image of the lank-haired , Mancunian styleista it’s these. Centre seam, sand suede, gummy sole – what more do… Read More
A shirt for gadabouts and ne’er-do-wells
In some respects this chemise (for it is French) belongs on a barnacled old beardy, whistling Molly Malone, dragging his crab pot around M&S’s Blue Harbour. In every respect that matters, it does not. This is an invincibly cool shirt. Short, boxy, pale denim –… Read More
Not actual ‘heat’, not a firearm
Bombastic gifing for a bombastic blouson. Yes, I’m unleashing some winter ammunition. It’s live brohiems. It’s on the street. Don’t be stepping to my Nanamica unless you’re packing nuff heat brethren. And by that I mean, you know, a nice jacket or something, not actual… Read More