Archive for February, 2015


Sunday, February 22nd, 2015

Morning Das Fashion Fanatikers. Saw the original bashment boys from West London  this time last week. Aside from daft-cheer and a whippet, they brought this track over with them, below. Yes boys. Chemise, She Can’t Love You. Well she cant, can she? Just the right level of squelchy base and Eighties synth groove for testing new style nuances. Put it on, I insist, and get involved, yeah?

grey Sunspel melange


Charcoal grill, Sunspel.

I put on my new charcoal melange twin set as direct result of Chemise. Debuted the stripe Sunspel combo (clicky), matching pants too, at last night pals 40th bash under herringbone Rake suit. Worked it with massive Rubinacci cashmere print scarf and Corthay Wilfrids. Nothing significant happened as a result, but I  did enjoy it. Previously used black singlet, but new melange adds the grey herringbone mix. Its a very grey textural thing. My pals dropped suits too, and subverted them slightly to taste. Holden’s Thin White Baker Boy, Torela’s closed collar/no tie and Walter’s Sixties Bryan Clough Sheepskin  stance. Good things. No photo evidence exists. Some odd shite went down at that party. People act properly odd under the banner of kind gesturing these days. I shan’t go on. I could though.

Busting a straight suit out ‘straight’ just feels to damn straight now. Feel like suits and tailoring looks need to be fractured or worn slightly wrong, especially on a weekend. Google the Sartorial Seven if you need further ammunition on why overcooked tie based sartoria is looking doppio-pedestrian now (click). Admire their youthful application. Good for them. But there’s more than a touch ‘Camden branch of Foxtons** does vintage dress-up on a budget’ bout the vista. Found very funny picture on their Twitter of two Sarty’ Sevens dashing for a fashion show. Not only evidence that Tote bags are far too fem for actual men to use, but one looks like a school Mum lamely running the egg and spoon race in a POW suit (see end). This straight style is too straight, and in this case too funny. Granted, I dropped a three piece, shirt tie etc in The Sunday Times Style in 2005, full page, Thomas Crown style. But that look was simply not on the menu then. That was a decade ago. Its needs to be broken down now. This could be our* last time around, so better do something.


Belgian Designer Haider Ackermann’s double good with fractured, undone drapeyness (click) SS15

Something needs to be off centre, at least a bit. For me, singlets & scarf does the trick. For now. This is me at LCM busting prototype version of last nights look. Cut old, ginger head off for dignity reasons. Full image (click).  Later that night is snap at GQ bash without Gieves h’bone coat (click), also debuting new semi-belm pap face. Needs work. What head-trick required for tonight though?

TS h'bone crop

H’bone & Rubi’

Tonight is the last night of pal Farika’s reign as Landlady of The Nelson Head on Horatio Street (click). After eight years, it is a massive shame that she’s not continuing to run that boozer. There will be further chapters for certain, but it’s last orders on this one later. lt will be a significant night. Hang on to your chemise.

Stubbs out.

* older style merchants that is.

** super naff estate agents.

NB. These are the pants: Fifty stripes of gay.


melange pant

Under-pant post script. Two of Sartorial Seven ‘running’.


Runs like a Mum

 Oh shit: There goes the sartorial charabanc!


Wednesday, February 18th, 2015

Morning Style Mongers. Doing stuff with fam’ in Keynsham, near Bristol. This is how relaxing I find Keynsham High Street, (play UFO by USG below for soundtrack to angst, thanks).  The gaff is properly buzzing, yeah? I used to work in this place, before it was Poundland. It was Keymarkets back then, an altogether classier establishment. Stacked shelves, but sometimes in Summer they’d put me out front to flog their very cheap garden furniture to the people. Better than stacking: I’d rather Jack, than shelfy-stack. I instantly evolved into a gobshite banter merchant, just so as not to get lost in supermarket. Little girl below in red coat evokes Don’t Look Now (click). Better leave before the budget midget moves in and stabs me.


Ponder-land: All lost in the super-market.

Don’t miss you Keynsham High Street. Do you understand? Micky Morgan, where are you now? You said I was useless, only fit for the crusher out the back where it properly stank. But I made it out the front & flogged people padded chairs in the sun. Thats how to spend it, yeah?

Scarmbled ESG.

Okay fanatics, do you lot wants some style to go with your Esgs on post? Okay, bear with. Maybe something easy, luxe and loose will relax matters. Maybe. Melange it up now my garment selectors!


Lemaire SS15, (as in Christophe) from Matches Fashion & ting.

Like what am seeing from this lot above. Lemaire. Matches lot put in me into it. Likey. Not for all people, prob not me,  but still likey. Cuffed bottoms, slightly reminiscent of pants used to sell bout five doors along  in Fosters menswear on K high street. 

BV track

Bottega Veneta SS15 Sports-Luxury.

Am doing something on the new smart comfort story right, f*cking now. BV went further than sport, did a whole lot of outfits based round Nureyev and Baryshnikov and other sorts of dancers, like Break. Double-body consciousness vests/singlets, sort of dance wear/meets track, with knits and jersey pieces all about that new sort of luxury. One where being a sloth-like, rich, flabby knacker simply will not do. Hands up who thinks this trend will be good fun?

BV knit

Bottega Veneta break dance folk singer-songwriter.

Having to wear  such highly structured stuff to even look presentable might just nought cut in these coming seasons. Just a thought. While down Keynsham High Street, in the queues and in the car parks, didn’t see too, too much Sports-Luxe. Saw modern sportswear and aspirational accessories, yes, but it registered more as more Sport-Lax. Or perhaps Slacks-Comfort. 

Stubbs out (bang out of the fucking Metropolis)

PS. My urban/suburban tip stance,  is some nice, narrow, melange jersey track pants, low-key washed Car Shoe driving loafers, a singlet and wholesome, folky knitwear: Tactile blend-and-spend (ie spenny but on the d-low). 

PPS. You heard about the Midnight Rambler? Well mate, its not one of those. Kiddy, I’d go easy with you cold meat platter. Am talking about the Keynsham deck chair wrangler, baby and it hurts.

BV tracky

Bottega Veneta Car Park Luxe


Wednesday, February 11th, 2015

Morning Style Merchants. This is what I’ve been getting down to. Embed it in your head then go do the breast stroke. It really gets you under it. Repeat. It’s Drum & Screech, dub style. 

It’s from Mica Levi’s sound track (click) to Under The Skin (click), Directed by Jonathan Glazer. This tracks called.. no, wait, I wont spoil it actually*. Soundtrack got a Bifta Nomination, but don’t think won. The film is double good. Watched it a few times. Very haunting and engaging on a couple levels, not least bout men, even though was also about woman. And Aliens. Glazer’s very clever, and it’s Johansson’s best performance to date.

Cartier Crash Skeleton

Under The Palladium Skin: New Cartier Crash Skeleton.

Meanwhile, the new Crash Skel’ead did win ‘Best Creative Kettle’ as The SIHH Geneva, in my tiny S&E awards ceremony I held in a cable car high over the Thames, London,  hours before the exhibition closed. The speeches were really something this year, I gotta tell ya. Only one Cartier executive was melted to death in his car wreckage for the creation of Crash Skelly. In the Sixties mind. Not too bad for such a piece, noz? Wonder if Jonathan Glazer might do us a watch narrative. Could liven things up, no? Not sure how much more watches we need though. Maybe its over.

Stubbs out.

* its called Death, that what.


Monday, February 9th, 2015

Buona Sera Moda Diavolos. This is an old post from last Friday that I took down. It was a bit too friv’ to stay up. But then the lyric that been obsessing bout, all of a sudden seemed more rel’. Well rel’. “She said don’t know if I should, cos I worry to much bout the tests on the blud..”. Was down Hommerton Hozza today getting mine tested, ya see. Nothing serious. They do 700 tests a day. That is serious, no? So just gonna tweak this and stick it back up, as got no time, fellas. From Friday 30th January:

Afternoon Style Merchants. At City Airport, live. American pillock right next to me wont shut up. That voice. That monotone voice some of his bredrin have.  Have put on The Spotify, dialled myself a tune, and instantly am totally obssessed by Tart Tart by the Mondays. Listened to it last night and now its off to Milan,  for Dolce&Gabbana’s big, shock announcement. 

There will me more words, but for now, just had to get this out there. I worry too much. The chugging little white-funky riff always sort of put me in mind of One Of These Nights by The Eagles

My fav’ Eagles song is this. Asked Michael Bastian bout the same, what with his SS15 collection being bout the dessert and The Eagles, and blow me, his favourite is One of These Nights too!

Am currently Bezing out a bit to The Eagles now in the airport lounge. Twenty minutes to kill. Maybe is The Marcus Gavi de Gavi and painkillers kicking in. Dancing mainly to celebrate fact that can actually move about, as back is so much better now. Been to the Osteo a couple of times.  Helped. Closest have come to being dry humped by a bloke in all my 44 years. Am sure its good for the posture though. Anyway, listen to both tracks and tell me if there’s a link. Gwan. I dare yas. 

Stubbs out.

Back to the womb and back to the present day, Roger…

PS. The blood test is no biggy btw, its just one of my kidney fell out in business class from being pickled in Vintage Don Pezza at Dolce. They really did push the boat out. Thanks for that one boys. First class, never mind business. See Palazzo Selfie.

DD TS selfie

Palazzo pyjama selfie with Domenico.



Monday, February 2nd, 2015

Morning Style Mongers. Spent the weekend as guest of Dolce&Gabbana in Milan while they presented their new Alta Sartoria mens offer, effectively mens couture. Their set up they’ve got going on over there blew me away somewhat. They looked after us insanely well. Will regale some of moments later in week, but for now this is their Iranian marble toilet. 


Closet selfie.

There were some double interesting goings on outside the confines of the marble water closet. Stay tuned. 


Vicuna, mother of pearl and gold cuff buttons.

Stubbs out.