Woah, that Sacred Triangle was mental. Only got half way through and it was revelation/epiphany central. Lordy. Gotta leave the Clapton right now and do a faux-Bafta thing with matey off the box. I thought I'd left my Saturday job on Shaftesbury Avenue twenty years ago, but am heading right back to that spot now. Think gonna get the 38 bus for retro head space reasons despite being burdened with a load of gear. Own style stance becomes yet more pivotal in this case. NB. 'Case' is actually oversize navy perf' leather holdall by Bill Amberg, darlinks.
Okay, here's the thing (as they say). Have been considering using what can best be described as a specialist freelance fashion operative on the ground to cover stuff am too busy to do. Seems fine. However am thinking about using non-other than my part time arch nemesis Mr. B. Ferragamo. I know it's high risk on a number of levels, but his living in Italy helps a great deal with many things, and although volatile, now he enters his later years I'm hoping he has mellowed. His reputation for catwalk invasion etc. has long since past into fashion folk-lore, and nothing that mental has happened for years.
So this is Bryan. He's an odd fucker. Obtuse, but he does have some valid points. He's reviewed a couple of shows for me and am thinking of putting them up.
Stubbs is out in The Metropolis.
PS. It actually says that in GQ this month. Buy it, read it, and you'll find it says that.
PPS. This isn't Bryan below. This is the Bafta/telly bloke am doing today.