Meet the Tailors of Marylebone


No booze, week 4

I’m not entirely sure what this blog is turning into. It has been through many phases. From listicles of Transgender Women on Instagram, to a guide on how to send your poo in the post, it goes round the houses sometimes.

Of late I suppose it’s turned into a public diary, chronicling my move away from alcohol which has been surprisingly easy. Although I must review a bottle of Jägermeister in a couple of weeks which was kindly sent on to me by a PR company, will have to think how I’m going to negotiate that quandary.



After yesterdays drama (see Tales of Bologna) the missus has given me this morning medicine that ‘hurry’s matters along‘ shall we say. Christ it worked in no time. No one talks about it but it’s good to start the day with some clean pipes.

I’m also running a lot. I’ve embarked on this campaign on behalf of Robinsons Fruit Drink to do 10k a day every day for September. It was either that or learn horse riding, or some voguish fitness class that has become flavour of the month. Sadly, London is a miserable place to run. I love the city, but it’s no Lake Zug or the campestral hill climbs of my beloved Easton.



Picked up the trousers from the tailors today. Finely getting my wardrobe in order. After years of rolling up the hem of my trousers (perils of being a short arse). I splashed out 40 sheets and got four pairs sorted. Feel fantastic, recommend Crawfords Tailors if you’re central. Although it does look someone has just robbed the joint. I picked up a dress from Alterations Boutique for my missus. I think it’s standard that tailors must wear a tape measure round their neck. A bit like how a head barman must carry a key chain on his belt.



It’s been a day of steady progress. A lot of catching up with emails and running around. Had some ginger spritzers at The Gate tonight with the missus. This ginger thing is now my go-to mocktail. I passed some guys in a curry house drinking beer tonight. I have to admit I was a little jealous.

But I made it home, nestled up to the cats and made some Orange and Ginger tea. Haven’t even checked the footy score. I’m the oldest 38 year old on the face of the planet right now.

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Pictures in the blog taken today around Marylebone. 



 

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