I feel the need, the need for tweed‘. Pete Brooker, Cheltenham Races 2015

The best tip I give give anyone when shopping in Paris is to go to a little designer thrift store called La Piscine. I got three jackets (pictured) and a distressed long sleeve polo for €160 Euros. If I had been a bit more flush I would have looted the place. The three jackets are all done by a brand called Paolo Pecora Milano (nope never heard of them neither) and each cost thirty sheets.


Technically, I should be shopping for jackets with no pockets as it highlights ones literal short comings. But they were cheap and if they last a season, then who gives a flying flash gordon. I’m acutely aware that I’m now dressing like my old primary school Mr Chambers. Unlike me he was a tall, emaciated looking man. He had greasy, long streaks of dark hair that caressed his temples but on top, completely bald. Kind man, loved his job. He wore the same check tweed every day of his life. He gave me a bollocking once for giving Nathan Jones a round house kick to the jaw in the playing field. It was the first time I’d ever seen him lose his temper, and he lost it at me.


Made me cry he did. Still, taught me a lesson. I retired my round house that day in the playground and have now adopted a fetishism for check tweed. Thank you Mr Chambers.




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