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.
This fellow appears worried by the “Big Brown Dog Barking at the Back Door” don’t worry; I’m sure there are toilets at the next stop!
ReplyDeleteHaving noticed this old boy's Mulberry bag in the 'help yourself as you depart' position, I have come to the firm conclusion he is a spook. Red Squirrel (the only logical code name), is sat in position and trying to look nonchalant while waiting for the old switcheroo.
ReplyDeleteThinking of all those poor American Blue Backs that were savaged by Charlie last night . . .
ReplyDeleteIsn't that Jonathon Wholemeal-Porridge?
ReplyDeleteLooks a bit like Mandelson.
ReplyDeleteIs that Jason Donovan?
ReplyDeleteGood Dylan reference in the caption. HIPSTER
ReplyDelete