A CUT THROAT BUSINESS

POMP UP THE JAM AT TOMMY GUNS.

Spent all yesterday 'working' around NYC, being English and doing stuff. This included pontificating to a camera about style ethos, which am sure is riveting, (they're providing subtitles for a US viewer), and generally flossing in my Jag with my driver Jerry. Also stopped for tea and cake in a couple of places, investigated the NY lighter and cigar scene and got my hair cut at a traditional barbers salon gaff called Tommy Guns (click). There's two called that in London on Beak Street and Rivington Street. Googled it, but didn't look like same mob.

"Whatever you want you're gonna get it"

The reason I wanted to check was, half a decade ago I took the role of adjacent boyfriend of a girl who we shall know as 'Posh Anna'. Her previous fella was the larger than life, volatile and formidable Russell Manley, proprietor of said Tommy Guns. I never ran into him during my spell with Anna, which was fortunate as I believed he harboured certain views he might have needed to 'air', and was not exactly known for his diplomacy.  I've thought nothing more of it for years. Until yesterday. While waiting outside for the crew to set up. One of my new peoples told me the guy who owned T.G.'s knew of my work. Intrigued I bowled in to find the man who was about to wield a cut throat razor over me was none other than Mr. Manley.

Pomp and circumstance.

If there had been any beef it appeared to have reached its sell-by date. He trimmed my barnet, and neck hair, and everything else stayed in place. He did a nice job of finishing my hair off as well in a sort of old style quiff that people have been calling 'The Pompadour'. Russell's style was dropping strong, and his handlebar tache was giving the trendy-Wendys a proper run for their money. I liked my Pomp, as they are known. I also very much liked the area that Tommy Guns was in, on the Lower East Side. Am returning this evening once the photographer with 'sunny disposition' JW arrives in NYC.

Breakfast at Balthazar when I would normally be taking coffee at Les Tres Marie in Milan. Odd parallel going on,  but good.

STUBBS OUT ON THE ROOF.