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 9 June 2012

"Little rooster crowing - there must be something on his mind."


7 comments:

  1. 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!

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  2. Having 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.

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  3. The Wadhurst Stalker22 June 2012 at 14:58

    Thinking of all those poor American Blue Backs that were savaged by Charlie last night . . .

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  4. Isn't that Jonathon Wholemeal-Porridge?

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  5. Looks a bit like Mandelson.

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  6. Is that Jason Donovan?

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  7. Good Dylan reference in the caption. HIPSTER

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