I may start a section entitled “Things That Only Work on Paper”. First submission will be a picture of the rodeo shirt and cravat I am wearing today, because I think I may look a big sack of insane.
My bad-taste filter, the gauge that most people employ to their choice of clothes in the morning, seems to be faulty, because when most people look in the mirror at the unwitting choice of all the primary colours in one outfit because the curtains were closed and think “woah, step back,” I think “does that look good? No it doesn’t, so it does!”
I’ve not posted in ages because, well. I’ve been right shit to be honest. I can’t say I’ve been ill, or on holiday, or even particularly busy. But when I get home from work, I have become increasingly drawn to the couch, an airport-sized Toblerone and Eastenders.
These slothy evenings are mostly a result of days like yesterday, when I locked myself out without any keys, Oystercard or wallet, meaning hiding my face and running past the market vendor I owed £2. Turns out it could actually get more annoying than that; I engaged in an act of wanton delinquency the details of which I won’t divulge. Then the heel of my shoes just bought from E&C market for £2 (see above) crumbled on the pavement on my way to a gig.
My bad-taste filter, the gauge that most people employ to their choice of clothes in the morning, seems to be faulty, because when most people look in the mirror at the unwitting choice of all the primary colours in one outfit because the curtains were closed and think “woah, step back,” I think “does that look good? No it doesn’t, so it does!”
I’ve not posted in ages because, well. I’ve been right shit to be honest. I can’t say I’ve been ill, or on holiday, or even particularly busy. But when I get home from work, I have become increasingly drawn to the couch, an airport-sized Toblerone and Eastenders.
These slothy evenings are mostly a result of days like yesterday, when I locked myself out without any keys, Oystercard or wallet, meaning hiding my face and running past the market vendor I owed £2. Turns out it could actually get more annoying than that; I engaged in an act of wanton delinquency the details of which I won’t divulge. Then the heel of my shoes just bought from E&C market for £2 (see above) crumbled on the pavement on my way to a gig.
By the way, here's a picture of some of the excellent shit that's available for half the price of your lunch at Elephant & Castle market. I know i'm a pikey, but I love it!
We’re off to ogle some antiques and vintage beauties we can’t afford at Alfie's Nostalgia Saturday's antique market in Marylebone, with our lovely mate Natalie who’s interning at The London Word. She promises to mention Style Cramp in her write up and Nat, I’ll hold you to it!
STYLE CRAMP APOLOGISES FOR THE MUNDANITY OF THIS POST. NORMAL SERVICE WILL RESUME SHORTLY.
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