A Brief Moment in Time

Making a bid for the Swiss border

My phone buzzed insistently in the dark. For goodness sake, now I’m awake, what do you want?

Fifty seven Whatsapp messages, from anonymous of Washington; apparently his boss doesn’t like the way he dresses! Has his boss taken a long look in a mirror recently? So I sent anonymous a single, supportive response. ‘Pull yourself together. Never wear clogs with a dress and it is not something worth resigning over’. Just don’t ‘Ask Andy’, I’m going back to sleep.

He hasn’t replied, job done!

Fashion advice Donald style!

So, what should I do now, go back to running the free world?

Scarymucci, Scarymucci do you do the Fandango?

Those are the benefits of running a business with friends in 119 countries, or as some of you would have it said, I’m a bloke with a hobby that allows him to just skip off around the world on a whim! Sorry that hurts, but you all still want to come back as me. Please join the back of the queue, it stretches back to the gates of Hades, where Old Nick stands weeping at the loss of his disciples, but he keeps busy by weeding out the stragglers.

It’s a cause and you need to be committed to it, or at least be committed to be in it. Perhaps I could be the leader of a cult, a little glitterati, it sounds so much more sinister than the leader of the gang I am!

I could have something here, I’m on a roll. Apparently it’s what is called momentum, however Jezza is using that one, perhaps he will start criticising Tom Watson’s suits. At this rate I might as well shut up shop with the number of people sticking their oar in to tell us how we should, or should not dress. I will run for office as a MEP, on second thoughts that horse has bolted and the stable door is closing fast.

Spotted in London the elusive Cannoli

The BBC has been forced to publish the salaries of all employees earning over £150,000, which means Jezza would not be on the list. On a personal note, I think all of those people from the BBC who shop here are worth every penny.

Jeremy uses trains a lot and he will be happy that they are talking about scrapping the elitist luxury of First Class travel on some journeys, not a bad premise as long as it’s not on the ones I want to use. I will need some private space to make my own small Hadron Collider, once completed I will be able to travel the Circle Line for an eternity as if in a vortex. A huge factor in my favour has been the removal of the doors from the carriages leaving my copies of my Bradshaw’s Model Slope Angle flashcards floating as if weightless and in perpetual motion.

These are not to be confused with Bradshaw’s 1913 edition with margin notes used by MP.

I am not the new Doctor, I will not be responsible for tardiness.

The view from dinner at Il Moro

Copyright © 2017 Adrian Holdsworth. All Rights Reserved.

Calum McGurk

In memory of Calum McGurk.

 A year ago today, a good friend lost a son.

 When it happened I promised Graeme I would write a piece for the Newsletter about his son Calum.

 Calum, Cal to his friends, was 27 years old.

 At the time I struggled over what to write, as it all seemed so inexplicable. Graeme would call me from time to time; he was finding it impossible to understand what had happened. Not being a father, I had no explanation or understanding of what he was feeling; the best I could do for a friend was to listen.

 Even now in his voice you can sense the tinge of grief, an inability to understand why someone so full of life was lost to life itself.

 Cal would turn up here with Graeme bold as brass, as if he was the one I had known all these years, holding court if his work mates were with him, as though a day hadn’t past seen I’d seen him last.

 Graeme and I would smile, and humour him. Cal invariably picked something out for dad to buy; a new shirt or pester him over needing a new suit.

 Cal and Graeme worked together, and it is testament to Cal’s personality; that in each of his old workplaces there is something to remind everyone of him.

 Graeme confided to me when we were last chatting; just how strange he found this. I sensed he was immensely proud of it, I think he feared that he shouldn’t be.

 Go for the pride option. It was an honour to have known Cal, and an honour to call you my friend.

 My thoughts are with you, Celia and the family.

http://www.thecalmzone.net

June 2017 – A Newsletter of Sorts

Let’s begin with a little bit of business.

We are fast approaching Ferragosto where the whole of Italy disappears off like our politicians.

This means that our workrooms are also partly closed. Times are a changing and it is not as bad as years gone by, we can still make garments, it just takes a week or two longer. Somehow it has dawned on them that not everyone wants to take their holiday in August.

Newsletter:

Phew! What a scorcher.

Coffee consumption has doubled since 1980, I know mine has. I know, I know, I don’t look old enough. It’ll be all the coffee!

But the world of coffee is in turmoil, it is the third year in a row that consumption has exceeded production and the amount of land suitable for growing coffee is falling. Apparently this will reduce the quality of the coffee and the amount available. Should we blame gorgeous George for making coffee too ‘sexy’?

The numerous large coffee chains may reduce the number of beans in a cup to half a bean, and we will be grateful for it.

Luckily Theresa in her youth didn’t run through fields of Arabica, decimating the crop still further, she restricted her abandon for fields of wheat, creating crap circles and gluten intolerance.

At least we now know the answer to one of the world’s great mysteries, if only we could solve Fermat’s last theorem! What do you mean, we have! Damn that only leaves the riddle of the Pyramids…

You know when you’ve been warned not to do something, but you plough ahead relentlessly, Theresa had a 50/50 chance; and in her mind’s eye she would have changed her mind, but she went ahead and stuck with her original choice anyway.

Statistically you are likely to be more successful, having changed your mind, to follow that through rather than stick. Pay heed Theresa you were warned!

Boris is round the back of the bike sheds at school, puffing happily on a cigar called Titus Andronicus. He, Govesie, Huntie and Double D, are donning wet suits, rolling balls of tissue, and barrelling out their straws. PMQ’s look as if they going to return to the ribald times of the Bullingdon Club.

Clad in their figure hugging, neoprene suits, they will snipe from the safety of deep water, like fourskin divers, sniggering at their endeavours.

The Opposition bench will be no better. JC will be living the ‘Thug Life’, his chest puffed out like a Great Tit, John McDonell toying with the balls of his abacus and a logarithmic ruler, trying to formulate the budget.

Hammers across the way uses a more modern method, the latest Sinclair Scientific calculator, pocket sized and great for those tricky little Brexit deals, it works off the ancient witchcraft known as ‘Reverse Polish Notation’.

Politics has returned to the Westminster village. But, what do I hear you screech in unison? They’re off on a Parliamentary recess.

The Government called a game of Russian Roulette, shot their little toe off and dallied around spending £130 million going to the country. Once again monumentally messing up an election/referendum they decide to slink off for the summer. So from the 20th July, the ‘Dream Team’ will be in charge.

I have given up re-writing parts of this! After the sixth draft, and the removal of references to Trotsky, Stalin, Mao, Thatcher, and at one point 46 expletives, I will build a pontoon bridge and move on!

At least we are without The Donald. He exists in the Fifth Dimension, the Twitter-sphere, in the Twilight Zone where the edge of the Flat Earth meets the sky. The Oval Office is his Pangea, his family gazelles and antelopes. He is the hyena, the jackal in the pack. No, I don’t where I’m going with this either; suffice to say I’m jet lagged, after spending weeks circumnavigating the earth. High on a mixture of sleeping tablets, Melatonin, Rhodiola Rosea and champagne, my thumbs are a blur.

Clearly I haven’t insulted Donald enough, as he let me in all so briefly, under the radar so to speak. I even travelled on Raoul’s passport by mistake! Not that I pass for a transgender, bald Brazilian (isn’t that the point?) with suspect facial hair…. Think Azis!

The regularity of these tomes has been a cause of mild concern in one or two of you. However, even by my standards I have been travelling a great deal, and unlikely to stop in the near future, and before anyone asks, not a single trip has been to Ibiza!

I sought to have my future explained to me in a reading of my tea leaves in Hong Kong.

“A panda walks into a restaurant, sits down and orders a sandwich. After he finishes eating the sandwich, the panda pulls out a gun and shoots the waiter, and then stands up to go. “Hey!” shouts the manager. “Where are you going? You just shot my waiter and you didn’t pay for your sandwich!”

The panda yells back at the manager, “Hey man, I am a PANDA! Look it up!”

The manager opens his dictionary and sees the following definition for panda: “A tree-dwelling marsupial of Asian origin, characterised by distinct black and white colouring. Eats shoots and leaves.”

I will blame Darren!

Currently, I am writing this on an inflatable flamingo in the middle of the Bristol Channel, basking in Mediterranean heat and floating gently towards Hinkley Point. The umbrella in my cocktail is acting as my dongle, the water around me is about the same colour as my drink, which is worrying no matter which way round you look at it! I had decided to spend a few days in the presence of my mother.

She is on tip-top form and we once again enjoyed a lovely meal at Reeves in Dunster.

https://www.reevesrestaurantdunster.co.uk/

I shall leave with a couple of photos, one a photo of the largest wedding cake I have ever seen. We made the groom his suit in an unlined wool and mohair blend to cope with the Florentine heat, the bride is the daughter of a great friend, my very best wishes to the happy couple, Riccardo and Carlotta, my apologies for not being there.

And a panorama, because everyone loves a panorama. These are the Red Rocks on Hvar.

 

 

Copyright © 2017 Adrian Holdsworth. All Rights Reserved.

New Shirt Delivery

Some new shirts have arrived in time for the latest “heat wave”.  From Linens to light weight Cottons, any eventuality in the weather will be covered.

Blue Giro Inglese

Flower Pattern Linen

Blue Linen with White Circles

Orange with White Stripe Linen

Dark Blue Diamond Pattern

Pink Woven Cotton

Light Blue and Dark Blue Dogtooth Cotton

White with Blue Design

Knitted Silk Ties

The latest collection of Knitted Silk Ties have arrived with more colours than ever to compliment any outfit and all with a pointed end to get the point across.

Knitted Silk Ties in Black and Silver

Knitted Silk Ties in 5 shades of Blue

Knitted Silk Ties in Pinks and Burgundy

Knitted Silk Ties in Browns and Beige

May’s Newsletter – The Mugslinger – sic.

Silence is golden apparently, or it was.

Once you have waded through my latest dirge, you will be rewarded  with photos of some new stock, but go on give my eminent tome a go!

I have returned, refreshed, reinvigorated, replicated and 3D printed. I also wanted a hologram, but was told I couldn’t be in two places at the same time.

What do they know, I’ve been doing it for years; my special powers are a cross between Captain Scarlet and the Scarlet Pimpernel! The walking through doors was just an appetiser.

Seafood

And although technically not in the same place at the same time I have been both in Champagne and Arcachon this month.

The visit to Champagne involved tours of Champagne Vadin-Plateau, Nicolas Maillart, the fabulous Henri Giraud and Ruinart.

Now for a bit of promotion! I spent a day in the company of Eric Martin from La Vigne ru Roy on a private tour. Great fun and hugely knowledgeable, and I can’t recommend Eric highly enough, a brilliant way to enjoy Champagne from inside and outside the glass!

http://www.lavigneduroy.com

Ruinart – Stairway to Heaven

Ruinart – Magnum Cellars

Henri Giraud – Champagne made in an Amphora

I have climbed and walked the Dune de Pylar in bracing conditions. I had hoped to feel like Lawrence of Arabia, but ended up feeling more Scott of the Antarctica!

PLUG – I was kept dry by my fabulous Field Jacket…only 7 left!

Dune du Pylar

So Tresamme has set the hair running.

She has her rollers in, this lady’s not for turning… She has curling tongs, rather than straighteners.

Will she add a blue rinse before the big Day? May becomes June, a rose by any other name would be as fragrant.

Politics these days is all about the hair, The Donald, Lil Kim and Boris Godunov are all making a topiary statement worthy of a place on the fourth plinth. It’s a thumb in a digital world.

Jeremy Corbin is akin to an angry garden gnome that has found a voice, apparently the Labour front bench are all wearing t-shirts with ‘I’m with Mr Grumpy’ printed on the front. Unfortunately I can’t make out what is printed on the back… OMG is that ‘I Puffi’, which just happens to be Italian for The Smurfs!

Did Herr Juncker employ a food taster at that fractious dinner or did he just skip the amuse bouche? Did their eyes meet in time honoured fashion over the toast? Theresa has well-hidden talents, first she’s guiding Donald by the hand down a slippery slope; next she is fixing her steely gaze on Juncker over the lip of a goblet. There is many a slip between cup and lip!

Tough Theresa is dealing with her split ends and the unruly mop that is that upstart Johnson; he’s hoping to be head boy after prefecting (sic.) his behaviour, but has admitted that he has more chance of being re-incarnated as an olive than coming back as me!

I love the idea of the tittle tattle, the jockeying for position, like being back in the classroom, telling tales to mistress hoping to be chastised; good cop, bad cop, another 10,000 of them.

Diane has spent that Corporation Tax windfall three times over. Do I hear a clamour for more maths teachers on the street, one on every corner!

But let’s get straight to the crux of the matter, the core of the Brexit issue, the one everyone refuses to confront, the elephant in the birdcage. Those of you not interested in football wander off and make a nettle tea, those who like my style and prose, hang on my every word like a canary in a coal mine.

No one has spoken of the effect of Brexit on the Premier League. Are the players and managers going to be given special dispensations so they can stay?

Bournemouth have fielded more English players for more minutes than any other team in the Premier League this season, which would mean the team from the English Riviera would turn the Premiership into a passeggiata.

Then all the ‘jolly foreigners’ (thank you Boris, please stop interjecting) would have to prove their worth, and just how many of these the primping prima donnas would make it on merit? Acting, histrionics and throwing themselves to the floor are more Royal Shakespeare than Leyton Orient. As my friend Tony would say ‘It is theatre for the working man!’

They could all be banished beyond the pines.

My own coterie of staff are starting to get a little edgy, Raoul my ‘Epilation Technician’ as he now wishes to be called is talking to himself more often than usual and removed most of my left eyebrow whilst taking a selfie for his new Irish passport.

So I am now left looking no more odd than usual!

Finally I shall finish by promoting an event which as many of possible of you should take part in. If you own an Italian bicycle, motorcycle of car it will be the place to be!

The Best of Italy Race takes place on 16th September 2017

www.bestofitalyrace.com

Information: info@bestofitalyrace.com

Ferris Wheel’s Day Off

Arcachon by night

Copyright © 2017 Adrian Holdsworth. All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

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Mid Blue Stretch Cotton Polo Shirt £120 with Light Khaki Stretch Cotton/Linen Shorts £125