Discretion v Bravery

In New Zealand 

W (female)  "You are not coming out for coffee with me in pink shorts. You are a man."

Me "They are burgundy, not pink."

W "You can call pink any colour you want but you're not coming out with me in pink shorts."

I go and change into blue shorts. We go into town for coffee.

Walking down the main street we meet a 2m tall Maori built like a tank. He is wearing pink/burgundy shorts identical  to mine.

I turn to W (who has obviously not missed the Maori) and open my mouth. 

I realise that anything that came out of my mouth might well be the last thing that did.

I pretend that I've never seen the Maori.

Mittens

Cro recently posted about mittens. 

It reminded me that I have a pair of woollen mittens of a curious design that my maternal grandmother knitted for me when I was a very young man.

Believe it or not they have had some serious wear in their early days when, for example, mending my bike in the winter and when I've needed my fingers in snowy situations. They still live in my glove drawer but, I confess, haven't been worn in 'anger' for a good few years.

My Dear Old Crombie

I've got a pal,
A reg'lar over coater.
She's a dear good old gal
I'll tell yer all about 'er.
It's many years since fust we met.
'Er wool was then as black as jet.
It's greyer now, but she don't fret.
Not my old Crombie.

We've been together now for fifty years,
An' it don't seem a day too much
There ain't an overcoat in the shop
As I'd swap for my dear old Crombie

Okay. With lots and lots of apologies to Albert Chevalier.  I've never been any good at poetry but if anyone can replace 'too much' with summat that rhymes with 'Crombie' please feel free.

I bought her 50 years ago in George Henry Lee's in Liverpool (part of the John Lewis Partnership) and she's stood me in good stead for formal occasions since she went into business retirement when I left Liverpool in 1973. Now, as she did a few days ago, she comes out for funerals on cold days. That morning she got yet another complete soaking in a Lewis storm. But she'll be back.

Fashion: Really?

An email from John Lewis containing this image dropped into my inbox a couple of days ago.  I know that I'm not into suits nor fashion these days but, really, is this what Savile Row now regards as suits for the fashionable?

Goodbye Old Friend

Or the alternative title is "We've been together now for fifty years".

I'm having a clear out: a serious clear out.

In 1965 the UK had a Commonwealth Arts Festival hosted by the City of Liverpool.  I was seconded to assist in the running of it.  My principal job, as I recall it, was to deal with protocol arrangements for dignitaries and others attending the many events from civic functions to theatre and other shows.

I have many fond memories including several opportunities to see full length professionally performed ballets (the first time I'd had such an opportunity and the start of my love of that art form).  I was privileged to meet  Ravi Shankar and hear him play.  

I learned that the High Commissioners of the time for India and Pakistan were good personal friends despite their countries being at war and that the more important a person was in public life the less likely he or she was to care about pomp and ceremony and the importance of their own position.  In other words I learned that in matters of protocol the people at the top didn't care and the people at the bottom (me for example) didn't matter but that the people in the middle cared enormously for their 'rightful' position in the order of things.

During the whole of this wonderful experience the evening suit that I had had to acquire for the functions was my constant companion.  

The late sixties in the city were magical times in many ways.  The age of elegance was still with us and at the many dinner dances and formal occasions that seemed constantly to occur the ladies wore long dresses and the men wore evening suits.  The sixties were also contrasting times of great social diversity and experimentation in the city.  Through all this my evening suit and I were faithful friends and companions.  

Just to prove that the jacket still
buttons up!

When I moved to Scotland the less formal approach to life in the Western Isles meant that we rarely had the opportunity to be seen out together although we have fond memories of the 'posh frock dos' that friends used to organise during the winter.  Despite the fact that for a few years now I have had a new evening suit my original DJ and I remained companions.  Until today.

Today has seen a huge change in my life.  The reality is that we will never be seen out together again.  We are both showing our age and at any formal function now I am more likely to wear my kilt than I am to wear my new DJ.

So it was with great sadness that I decided to try DJ on for one last time before depositing him in a clothing bank along with many other items of my wardrobe.

The sadness was alleviated to some extent by the fact that I could still fit into the suit.  Surprised? Impressed?  I was - both.  The shirt was a bit too tight around the neck I have to admit.  And, just for the record, I would never normally have worn a pre-tied bow tie!  In fact I have no idea where this one came from.

Colourful Clothes

It's a while ago now but something in a blog - by Dawn Treader I think - elicited the comment from me that I had a lot of polo necked sweaters because I like to wear something that suits my mood of the moment.  Leastways I think that's what I said.  Dawn Treader I recall said that she awaited seeing my 'collection'.  Here it is.  Now before anyone says that I'm profligate or whatever let me say that I've amassed my 'collection' of these garments - 30 plus - over a considerable number of years.  When I used to live during winters over 5 years ago then unless I was wearing formal shirts then I was wearing a polo neck.  Because I don't wear clothes out very quickly the collection just sort of grew.  It's over 5 years since they have been out of my wardrobe.  Here is one of each colour.  The odd thing is that all my black ones and my red ones are quite different when seen in the sun.