I’m fairly positive there isn’t a man alive who could pull this off. I mean, if you rule out the theatrical ‘tude of a Liberace or a Boy George, is it conceivable a run of the mill, ‘non-performing arts’ bro could wield this thing? Thing… 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
Gobble fucking gobble. Mark NcNairy’s stylings for Woolrich Woolen Mills’ SS15 look edibly good. Assuming you like the taste of cloth. And buttons. McNairy’s skill in constantly refining and reimagining workwear staples kicks up a gear here. There’s a bunch of shit I’d seriously consider… Read More
I’m not usually one to draw attention to grammatical failings. I have apostrophied when I should have hyphenated so many times, I get tense in my semi colon just thinking about it. Still, I don’t usually stick my shambolic syntax, in giant letters onto walls.… Read More
