St.Ives

STUBBS FAMILY HOLIDAY HERITAGE CONTINUES.

Am installed in St.Ives with the Madre, sister Julie and her husband Mac. It’s our spiritual home. Head is clearing and some issues must be addressed. We have an apartment overlooking harbour and next to the famous Sloop pub. It’s idyllic, especially as off season.  My whole crew love the place.

Half mast Cornish flag marks recent war dead 

Weekly and general manifestos need to be worked out and published.
Expect the beginning of Miniature Style Manifestos: a new franchise from Style&Error.

Meanwhile immediate concerns include, Crocs, ‘ubiquitous outwear overkill quotient’ of the season, heritage for signet emblazonment and my accountant’s dilettante attitude towards my mortgage plot.

I’m plotted in most elevated place I could find to begin. The Tate.

What do I see? People wearing Crocs. Christ, maybe I should let this thing go. My own sister wears them, her excuse is she is a gardener and the ‘they’re so comfy’ lyric that every croc head offers up. It’s no excuse. Terence Stamp was at it last week too when I spoke to him.  He’s is 71 ish, but am disturbed he’d give in to comfort and the bright side. Fun and comfortable? Please no.

A Croc of shite

Trying to be objective, maybe should have a Croc poll? They’re v.ugly kiddie winky shoes delivering comfort and bypassing sartorial dignity.  I’ve got very comfortable long johns for skiing but I don’t inflict them on the world.  There’s massive old men down the Porchester Spa that lumber about like ancient toddlers with derbys*. Even the global travelling herberts down there swear by them. Now I’m in Cornwall it turns out surfers wear them. Also artists. Maybe we should just laugh at them and be happy. The ‘Mock a Croc’ campaign. ‘Help make Crocs a laughing stock’ the slogan. Gonna devise strategy.

Meanwhile my Mum announced earlier that she was wearing her Emilio Puccini scarf I bought her to dinner tonight. Puccini? Sometimes I wonder about my lineage.

Talking of lineage, Marcus Boothby from Rose Jewellers in Burlington Arcade has called back to enquire further about my heritage. Are we the Stubbs’s of Durham or middle England? We are the Stubbs’s of Kennington, Vauxhall and Brixton I’ve told him, but they’re not in the Fairbairns tome of heraldry. Typical. Posh door policy is just like a nightclub.  ‘Your name’s not down you’re not coming in’. Stubbs’s south London branch are not finished yet.

Fish first, then a run up steep hills is required to level headedly deal with all matters. Making film to go with. It’ll be quite amateur am sure but need to start somewhere. The light is totally incredible, as we say in film.

Right time, wrong plaice.



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