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, 11 August 2012


Either the upper tiers are finally feeling the squeeze, or the plebs are developing a taste for red trousers.

Or this bloke simply took a wrong turn on Oxford Street.

Or perhaps he's one of those junkies who dresses up all posh to go thieving? Who knows.


  1. Well if the stick in his hand is anything to go by I reckon he's out for an afternoon of beating the Hoi polloi back into their place.

    1. Yes, look at his expression - he's about to thrash that man in khaki for wearing a girly bag and a stupid hat.

      I think this is where the trads and the hipsters start a war.

  2. my mother buys my step father's gardening clothes in Primark, and makes sure she pays with the Coutts card.