From South Ken to Shoreditch, from Jermyn Street to Mare Street – these days anyone that’s anyone is wearing red trousers.

If you want your leg-coverings to let the world know that you’ve got a few quid and don’t care who knows it, or that you have some big ideas about what’s on at the ICA right now - or simply that you are completely insane (but in a mainly non-stabby way) - then you’d better get your wife or girlfriend to take those jeans and chinos down to the charity shop post-haste!

Because there’s only one type of trousers you’ll be wanting to wear, and that’s RED TROUSERS. In fact - if you can’t wear red trousers you’d be better off wearing NO TROUSERS AT ALL. That’s what I say.

Saturday, 19 November 2011

The Orange, Belgravia

Hats off to Abigail who had the nerve to get a good full-frontal of this not unscary Terracotta Warrior near Sloane Square.


  1. But you have to give it to this terracotta Warrior.... He corresponded his poppy with the trousers wonderfully!!

  2. This chap is always in The Orange - what a hero!

  3. Count Alucard I presume...

  4. This chap happens to live in my block of flats several floors above me.....

    And I can confirm that he IS a nutter. Keeps banging on my door and making excuses to ask after my mother....


  5. Nosfe-rouge-tu!

  6. I saw him! This afternoon! I was walking to Sloane Square tube and we passed each other crossing Lower Sloane Street. I was struggling to think why he was famous, and when I remembered, I was so happy.

    (He was wearing blue jeans today. It wasn't a terribly RT day, to be fair; all the usual suspects had mustard cords on.)