My Milan felt like a good place to be yesterday, all anticipation and runways/gravel paths. Great. Just when you're banging on about how colour is silly for real men, first Ferragamo, later Trussardi, both great, used colour really well in tailoring. Pure essential, sartorial Italian verve, daggnabbit, as the double breasted scene gathers further credence. See end for weirdest football scene can remember.


Who's not gonna love a greyhound in a garden, eh? Great suit action too, perfect accessories and sublime colour palette.


Pretty much hating a luxury designer trainer frankly, but they worked in this show. Not for all men, but who cares about fat, blotchy old ones? Love a Ferragamo slim DB. Bring it..

Then we went to the Dolce runway show room on Viale Piave for the football. Seemed like we were doing okay. They had trays of massive Italian style Findas pancakes as canapés. That must have been a culinary slur for starters. Then it became apparent during the penalties that we were twenty in amongst two thousand Italians. Granted, they were 'fashion people', but still, it was like a gay Rourkes Drift. I was more Michael Crawford than Caine unfortunately. Actually started thinking we might win, again. The rest as they say..

Stubbs/England out.