Saturday, 17 September 2011

Catwalk report

I realise that visitors to Tlatet are far too polite to ask, but I can tell from coverage in today's papers that at the start of London Fashion Week there must be considerable interest in what I wore for this morning's ride.

Starting at the top...
  • A threadbare cotton jumper, over a dark blue shirt. The shirt could be from almost anywhere, and probably is, but the jumper isn't just any jumper. It's a green Marks and Spencer jumper. I like to think of it as an understated tribute to Yehuda Moon
  • My trousers were dark blue cords, accented by patches of brown. I adapted these few months ago when I was a bit careless stripping varnish from some old furniture, without bothering to change into something that was even more appropriate for a messy job. They have been washed many times since - it must have been good varnish.
  • On my feet I wore an old pair of brown casual shoes, bought, as far as I remember, from a Clarks discount outlet (it was a long time ago). They recently acquired some splashes of white when we were painting the garden shed.
As I was cycling this morning, I did make a couple of special adjustments. On the rare occasions that I come off the bike I tend to bang my head, so it always seems like a good idea to wear a helmet. And to stop my trousers getting tangled in the chain I wore my lucky reflective cycle clips.

Clearly this is not a look that anyone can just go and buy off the shelf. It has taken years of refinement. So having achieved something close to sartorial perfection I don't vary it much. I didn't have to change this afternoon to take rubbish to the tip. Apart from a clean shirt, socks etc., I wore the same yesterday for taking down some shelves, and the day before for some light gardening. I suspect that little will be different tomorrow. That is, unless the jumper or trousers have to disappear into the wash, in which case I will be thrown into confusion.

Postscript: afterwards we found most of the missing parts of our shutters up in the loft, covered in decades of debris. After scrabbling around to get them down through the hatch, today's outfit did go into the washing, and I've scrubbed up.

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