Morning Style Mongers. Just to confirm, I’m in with The In Crowd, I go where the In Crowd goes etc.. in todays case, its Paris. Wonder if they’ll let us out again if we vote out? Might have to plot in with the out crowd. Was exciting being in a polling station for such significant gig. Resisted urges to take ‘significant’ pictures of everything and tried to say in the moment.
There’s more good lyrics you know?
“I’m in with the “In” crowd
And I know what the “In crowd knows (How to have fun!)
Any time of the year, donґt you hear? (How to have fun!)
Dressin’ fine, makin’ time…”
so, so Paris Mens Fashion Week, non?
“We breeze up and down the street
We get respect from people we meet
They make way day or night
They know the “In” crowd is out of sight..”
Morning The Style Merchants. Am in Pitti and it is hilarious and affirming to witness the Pitti Peacocks are still out in over accessorised force and continue to put the cock into peacock. There are exceptions, natch. This geeza was dropping ivory, cream & choc to stirling effect. Yes Rudie. Put me in mind of this track by Ian Dury. Check the lyrics. Too, too good for Pitti. Take it Ian, old chap. “Dagenham Royal Swagger!”
Ivory, cream, choc-chic at Pitti. Rude.
“Hey, with your natty threads and your nifty dreads And your Dagenham royal swagger With your tricky spiels and your Cuban heels And the face of a carpet-bagger With your sweet cologne and your mobile phone And the moves of a desperado You will cut a swathe on your gangster’s lathe And an overdose of bravado”
“Hey, with your natty threads and your nifty dreads And your Dagenham royal swagger With your tricky spiels and your Cuban heels And the face of a carpet-bagger
With your sweet cologne and your mobile phone And the moves of a desperado You will cut a swathe on your gangster’s lathe And an overdose of bravado”
Flossin’ with the Luxury Doge himself, Brunello C at the Palazzo last night.
“Hey, you turned up trumps in your purple pumps And a little bit of made to measure With your shiny frock and your yellow socks You’re addressing it to your pleasure With an urchin crop and a skimpy top You’ve got to have a good thing going With your lazy grace and your crazy face Who cares if your slip is showing? Now we can see you’re hip to the mother ship When you pop into the north horizon You’re the one who’s having all the fun With everybody’s eyes on So dance little rude girl, dance Dance little rude girl, dance Dance little rude girl, dance You’ve got to know something Make me go bananas Make me feel so right Take me to Navana And leave me there all night Make me hit the ceiling Send me round the bend Take me back to Ealing
When the evening ends With your natty threads and your nifty dreads And your Dagenham royal swagger With your tricky spiels and your Cuban heels And the face of a carpet-bagger With your sweet cologne and your mobile phone And the moves of a desperado You will cut a swathe on your gangster’s lathe And an overdose of bravado So dance little rude boy, dance Dance little rude boy, dance”
thanks for the help with the post, Ian, images to come, honest
Evening Style Mongers. This is all can manage at the moment. Having to step away from certain activities and even pretending to do regular style posts on here appears to be one, for just a while. Might add to it, as got some good stuff to mention, but for now, here’s something that made me happy, smile and cry Sunday morning by The The. The LC:M is over, and it was lovely, thanks. Today was the day I wanted to make to in one piece. Been dreading it with dread for many reasons for about a (fashion) season. Just under. Its done.
Silly really. Talking of which, check out Matt Johnson’s blow dry. Charming and hopeful song though, no?
Clip this link for a click from Aitors show, below..it was a haunting, superb spectacle.
Ed Skrein & I on Jermyn Street for John Smedley yesterday. His Mum, Maggie, came too, and frankly it was lovely way to spend an L.C.M. Monday lunchtime. Went of to Thom Sweeneys from here, which was properly heavyweight.
Evening Style Mongers. I can’t keep up with this- you might have noticed. What can I say? London Collection:Men starts again tomozza. Seems like only yesterday, right? Except it’s a whole world away too now- A totally different dimension from the last one, in some ways. This song is quiet lovely, right? Just like a ship and all that. It’ll do us for now.
Pastor T.L.Barrett and his youth singers. Yes the Pastor. The choirs a bit pony/shrill/wrong at times, and still somehow brilliant. A bit like life. But I know we can make it. I’ve got something on desert chic out on the HowToSpendIt today. Might see if can rustle up a look to go with myself.
Lawrence Of Arabia- waiting for ship of the desert.
I’m a different person this season, just don’t feel the same. SS16 is all change. Something new is trending. Cant explain it all right now, but am finding the fashion&style carousel pretty, pretty daunting tonight. Then again, what could really go wrong? I still like clothes though. Don’t worry. Not given up the cause. Got this Missoni linen shirt number finally delivered. Only took DHL 7 attempts. Doorbell failure didn’t exactly help. Insane energies used on its journey. Its all about the journey. Just make sure you’re getting there. My life door bell has been broken for sometime- could have been the problem? Kept missing deliveries or opening it for the wrong callers all together. Shirt is from MatchesFashion.com. Feeling this deserty/sandy colour scheme no end at mo’.
Missoni brown linen stripe shirt.
Gonna go to bed, with my book (see last post) and work out and acceptable look to go with shit. Night you lot.
Got a new thing to go on a chain: No.10 talisman key. Binary: 1 & nothing. Hoping thats all gonna need for now.
Morning Style Mongers. Just got off the last train into Euston from Manchester from work. Almost Midnight. The only thing I care about right now is remaining immersed in The Midnight Bell a novel by Patrick Hamilton. Its one part of the trilogy called Twenty Thousand Streets Under The Sky. These are all set in&around a pub in Euston.
Midnight Bell cover.
Hamiltons language is so carefully and beautifully chosen, its sort of invisible and only exists as correct and perfectly descriptive. Nothing surplus or distracting. Unlike my inclusion of these runway images featuring wide brimmed black hats and black clothes.
Saint Laurent AW16.
Am also locked into the play of it all. And that is that. It’s totes mesmerising. It has removed any/all unwanted presences, when am reading actually it. I am grateful that am slow reader.