“Please make sure you remove all your money” read the ATM.
“I sure will” grinned I as my right hand eagerly grabbed hold of the cash that came spitting out of the machine. I ran my index finger along the top of the notes so that they sounded something like cards being shuffled at a frantic rate. I’d just been paid that day after a months worth of my labour and time. Like most people I love the feeling of getting paid, it’s on par with drinking good ale or watching Shaun of the Dead for the first time. With all this money I decided to get some new attire to look good around the ghetto. I got myself to the train station fairly quickly but once there I found out rail works had scuppered my plan of heading down to Camden Market to get some jeans. As an alternative I had to wait for a bus that the rail company was supplying if I wanted to reach my destination. I stood by the bus stop for a few minutes allowing the wind to lash its whip of ferocity across my face like an enthusiastic S&M first timer. Feeling the lashes would soon scar me or at least excite me into a state that was unacceptable for public viewing I decided to abort going to the capital and instead choose to go to the next best thing. The town centre. Knowing full well that the town centre is just a bevy of high street chains all living together jostling and vying to try and take your money I thought I’d give it a shot. With a sigh I nestled my hat onto my head and headed up there.
I entered Top Man and immediately got the feeling that everything was a bit false, like when you are introduced to people in a new job. They smile at you and nod as you’re talking but really they’re thinking when their next fag break is. A light blue t-shirt caught my eye and I picked it up for further examination, with slight shock I thought this was something I could exchange money for, until, that is, I turned it round and saw a skull and cross bones logo sprayed in white across the middle. It sort of reminded me of the crap graffiti that featured prevalently along the walls of the underpasses I used to go by on the way to school. Obviously these graffiti artists have now got jobs at Top Man and t-shirts are their canvasses. I didn’t even bother hanging it back on the wall, in my disgust I just shoved it between the hats and scarves and left it there all crumpled and creased. I actually thought it looked better like that, so I turned around and headed for the exit. Although I didn’t really enjoy my experience in Top Man, the majority of my female friends speak with the same intensity and admiration of Top Shop as they do when they talk about Timberlake and Jonny Depp. I guess they must be doing something right in the women’s department.
After my sharp exit from Top Man I came across Next. I knew this was a futile cause because you know exactly what you’re getting in Next, smart casual garments that enhances the features of the male models wearing their clothes on posters but only enhances the inferiorities of the average looking gentleman. I walked in and stood on the escalators. As I was heading up towards the men’s department I looked at my watch and rued the inefficiency of rail track. Right now I could have been running the food gauntlet along the cuisine alley in Camden Market. The place where within a space of 2 minutes you feel disorientated and tenderised from all the screaming and groping made by the different chefs trying to sell you their variations of “squid and rice” or “Beef stew”. I reached the top of the escalators and didn’t even bother taking a look, I just done a U-turn and went back down to get something to eat.
After devouring a Mexican chilli bean wrap from M&S I headed towards H&M and to my luck they delivered. I’ve always been a bit of a fan of H&M as they do clothes for people who like to look good but don’t want to over do it with garish skull and cross bones appearing on their range. I saw a pair of jeans I liked and rummaged through trying to find my size but was unsuccessful. I asked one of the shop assistants for help and told him my size to which he replied, “you need a lad, I’ll see if I can find you one”. Before I could ask him why he was bringing me a boy he disappeared into the back room and returned two minutes later with a pair of jeans draped across his arm but no sign of this ‘lad’. He handed me over my jeans and I asked him why he wanted to bring me a boy. He pointed over to a wall chart of sizing where it read that H&M categorises all the different sizes and then names them things like Ladd and Sliq. I thanked the assistant and went towards the changing rooms thinking whatever happened to the ol’ ‘Boot Cut’ range. On my way to the changing room I found a plain blue t-shirt which looked familiar to the Top Man one. I quickly turned it round to check there wasn’t anything pirate related on the front and took that with me when I realised the only thing pirate related on there was its actual colour. The jeans fitted well and so did the t-shirt. I pulled a muscleman pose in the mirror to amuse myself even though I was aware that the curtains weren’t fully drawn but I didn’t really care I was just content I’d found something.
With the remaining of my money I walked over to HMV and bought the Mighty Boosh Season 1 and then strolled over to Waterstones and purchased Factotum which I had been meaning to buy the other week. With all my purchases I headed home with a smile on my face and a swagger in my stroll.
“I sure will” grinned I as my right hand eagerly grabbed hold of the cash that came spitting out of the machine. I ran my index finger along the top of the notes so that they sounded something like cards being shuffled at a frantic rate. I’d just been paid that day after a months worth of my labour and time. Like most people I love the feeling of getting paid, it’s on par with drinking good ale or watching Shaun of the Dead for the first time. With all this money I decided to get some new attire to look good around the ghetto. I got myself to the train station fairly quickly but once there I found out rail works had scuppered my plan of heading down to Camden Market to get some jeans. As an alternative I had to wait for a bus that the rail company was supplying if I wanted to reach my destination. I stood by the bus stop for a few minutes allowing the wind to lash its whip of ferocity across my face like an enthusiastic S&M first timer. Feeling the lashes would soon scar me or at least excite me into a state that was unacceptable for public viewing I decided to abort going to the capital and instead choose to go to the next best thing. The town centre. Knowing full well that the town centre is just a bevy of high street chains all living together jostling and vying to try and take your money I thought I’d give it a shot. With a sigh I nestled my hat onto my head and headed up there.
I entered Top Man and immediately got the feeling that everything was a bit false, like when you are introduced to people in a new job. They smile at you and nod as you’re talking but really they’re thinking when their next fag break is. A light blue t-shirt caught my eye and I picked it up for further examination, with slight shock I thought this was something I could exchange money for, until, that is, I turned it round and saw a skull and cross bones logo sprayed in white across the middle. It sort of reminded me of the crap graffiti that featured prevalently along the walls of the underpasses I used to go by on the way to school. Obviously these graffiti artists have now got jobs at Top Man and t-shirts are their canvasses. I didn’t even bother hanging it back on the wall, in my disgust I just shoved it between the hats and scarves and left it there all crumpled and creased. I actually thought it looked better like that, so I turned around and headed for the exit. Although I didn’t really enjoy my experience in Top Man, the majority of my female friends speak with the same intensity and admiration of Top Shop as they do when they talk about Timberlake and Jonny Depp. I guess they must be doing something right in the women’s department.
After my sharp exit from Top Man I came across Next. I knew this was a futile cause because you know exactly what you’re getting in Next, smart casual garments that enhances the features of the male models wearing their clothes on posters but only enhances the inferiorities of the average looking gentleman. I walked in and stood on the escalators. As I was heading up towards the men’s department I looked at my watch and rued the inefficiency of rail track. Right now I could have been running the food gauntlet along the cuisine alley in Camden Market. The place where within a space of 2 minutes you feel disorientated and tenderised from all the screaming and groping made by the different chefs trying to sell you their variations of “squid and rice” or “Beef stew”. I reached the top of the escalators and didn’t even bother taking a look, I just done a U-turn and went back down to get something to eat.
After devouring a Mexican chilli bean wrap from M&S I headed towards H&M and to my luck they delivered. I’ve always been a bit of a fan of H&M as they do clothes for people who like to look good but don’t want to over do it with garish skull and cross bones appearing on their range. I saw a pair of jeans I liked and rummaged through trying to find my size but was unsuccessful. I asked one of the shop assistants for help and told him my size to which he replied, “you need a lad, I’ll see if I can find you one”. Before I could ask him why he was bringing me a boy he disappeared into the back room and returned two minutes later with a pair of jeans draped across his arm but no sign of this ‘lad’. He handed me over my jeans and I asked him why he wanted to bring me a boy. He pointed over to a wall chart of sizing where it read that H&M categorises all the different sizes and then names them things like Ladd and Sliq. I thanked the assistant and went towards the changing rooms thinking whatever happened to the ol’ ‘Boot Cut’ range. On my way to the changing room I found a plain blue t-shirt which looked familiar to the Top Man one. I quickly turned it round to check there wasn’t anything pirate related on the front and took that with me when I realised the only thing pirate related on there was its actual colour. The jeans fitted well and so did the t-shirt. I pulled a muscleman pose in the mirror to amuse myself even though I was aware that the curtains weren’t fully drawn but I didn’t really care I was just content I’d found something.
With the remaining of my money I walked over to HMV and bought the Mighty Boosh Season 1 and then strolled over to Waterstones and purchased Factotum which I had been meaning to buy the other week. With all my purchases I headed home with a smile on my face and a swagger in my stroll.
3 comments:
Huzzah! All's well that ends well.
I too dislike Top Man immensely, yet so many swear by it. It's full of crappy scarves and ties and t-shirts and waistcoats that were worn by rubbish indie bands last summer. Not impressed.
I bought a suit in M&S last week which I'm rather fond of already. This immediately adds 15 years to my life, I'm sure. Sigh.
Yep, they're as trendy as the current Zimbabwean government regime.
You're sounding more and more distinguished as each day passes. It's only a matter of time you'll rest a top hat on your head and hang a cain from your arm.
I operate the middle ground between gentleman and dandy.
Post a Comment