Saturday, 22 June 2013

Pinky round the Brighton gills


AN OLD family friend once said; ‘If I had all the money I’d spent on booze … I’d spend it on booze’, well Sir Henry has long gone.














And although I would never like to besmirch his good name and discolour those great days I had as a child at Rawlinson End teasing Old Scrotum the wrinkled retainer, I must in one sense concur, but in another disagree.
I would spend some of that hard earned, well not that hard earned, on clothes.

As I stroll around the Palace of Glittering Delights that is Brighton, still in some sort of Graham Greene-esque hideaway thriller, a point I made fairly clear to Sergei as I stood at the top of the Metropole hotel’s flag mast at 3am this morning, supping some sort of petrol based Vodka Martini.

As such my new found confidante, who is doing an amazing job of keeping me out of the clutches of PC plod, has also outdone himself having read up on Pinky and got me wearing some particularly stylized designers, to continue our seaside soiree.

Sergie kicked things off with the Hopper Soft Copa Dogtooth blazer, a superbly cut jacket, double vent, two-button jacket to which I have supported with a Daniele Herringbone shirt, long sleeve, French collar shirt.

Much to Sergie’s disgust, I have remained on my Hemingway tip sporting some Pointer Shoes, to be honest in either red or charcoal, these canvas upper shoes are nice turn on a general style, with the finish on the upper making them stand out.

To be honest the Lacoste Essential Rene overlay range of shoes are also a perfect fit, the canvas and leather upper shoes are a simple one colourway shoe that suits the beach/summer life perfectly.

I have also jumped for some of the Paradise Found shirts.

I am loving the Jungle Bird and Kamehameha Tiger prints, these little Aloha print Hawaiian made shirts are a winner, I am particularly impressed by the handmade coconut buttons, just do not try to make a heavily loaded Pina Colada using them, sticks in the throat somewhat.

Remaining on my lost writer/exhile/outlaw journalist tip, I have opted, once again to Sergie’s disgust, no wonder I don’t have a good track record with butlers for shorts over trousers.

The Woolrich Reversable or the Gant Rugger work fine for me. Although to be fair the Marshall Artist cut downs in mint green or electric blue or Farah’s Vintages, also give me that Man Alive feel.

The khaki short is always an Eighth Army type winner, in fact I may drop in a pair of Clarke’s desert boots, it’s just choosing the colour to suit, coming in 12 variations.

So chameleon like I slip into another day at the seaside, not really enough madness here for me, and with the remnants of last nights four star cocktails bonanza still halting me from firing up one of the fabulous Cohiba Esplendidas The Colonel parachuted in to me via the dilapidated West Pier.

I am finding my old penchant for misbehaviour rising high in my gullet.
Maybe some naked skeet shooting off said pier tonight, high on some form of amphetamine based pharmaceuticals, before cocktails at the Grand de Vere?
No, got it, hijack a helicopter and buzz some offshore oil transporters while blasted on Ludes.

Hope I can find some Ludes in this seaside resort.

Well the joy is in the seeking.

I’ll drink to that.