Simply the vest

Posted on September 21, 2015 by volpeadrian

After the last newsletter once again many of you have questioned my sanity.

Trust me I am ‘compus mentis’, though perhaps I make draw from the pages of Lord Ashcroft’s tome, more ‘pompus mentis’.

I too expect to be richly rewarded for feats of skill, and acts of derring-do. These riches and fame are yet to befall me, much in they way they have been deprived of Lord Ashcroft, as Maximus Desimus Meridius said, I have the advantage of being able to look my enemy in the eye.

I have put finger to key again; this time with the use of mid-enhancing, mind-altering and enlightening substances scraped by Neil from the lichen encrusted boulders of Sparta on a recent trip to a wedding.

Neil (inkadelic) calls this his own particular brand of tea. Tea, Pah! I can see skulls in the cup, what is that all about?

Inkadelic Tea

This ‘Tea’ has opened the creaky door that lies at the back of the wardrobe of my mind; this door leads into a fantasy world where the Piers Gaveston Society is just the fringe of normality.

To make matters even darker out of the gloom steps Perseus, son of Zeus; he wants to go to a Fancy Dress Party dressed as a fallen angel!

Oh, for heavens sake the things I have to come up with!

I was trying to explain that he might end up just looking singed, like Icarus after he’d flown too close to the sun, or Brian Blessed in Flash Gordon. What? You mean Gordon’s alive?

But what the son of Zeus wants, the son of Zeus gets!

Perseus becomes Icarus

Anyway… We have received some new stock perhaps the modern day equivalent of the harness. Some gilets.

Bright Blue nylon microdown filled Gilet

Yellow nylon microdown filled Gilet

Purple nylon microdown filled Gilet

Green nylon microdown filled Gilet

Navy Blue nylon microdown filled Gilet

Yellow wool Hollofil quilted Gilet

Grey wool Hollofil quilted Gilet

Loden Green wool Hollofil quilted Gilet

Navy Blue wool Hollofil quilted Gilet

Orange nylon Hollofil square check Gilet

Brown nylon Hollofil square check Gilet – BTW It’s SOLD OUT

End of July 2015 – Newsletter

Posted on August 6, 2015 by volpeadrian

So hardly had I got started with the iAdrian project than we’ve had to shelve one of the prototypes and seriously look at the rest of the project going forward.

It’s all well and good starting something like this due to the huge demand of people wanting to come back as me, but when the hardware and the software don’t work hand in glove, we are headed for difficulties.

So we have been in the media spotlight over the last couple of weeks.

I have standards to uphold and when the prototype goes off piste so dramatically, I am seriously thinking about cancelling the whole thing.

I suppose it is really down to the fundamental lack of understanding about how I behave. There is always going to be a black sheep, a bad apple, but at least let’s try and avoid that if at all possible.

So in order to set the record straight I should say that future prototypes will have to look seriously at their conduct and we are going tweak the i8 (all the pies and) chip, or replace it with the new German i9 version.

Artificial intelligence is all well and good, but there has to be a degree of intelligence, self-regulation and self-awareness. A certain standard should be set, and I have set these standards.

So it is not kooool (you can tell I’ve been in Paris!), to think you can replace red Lycra with an orange bra and leather jacket, you are not trying to dress like Wonder Woman!

Eiffel Tower

It is also not cool and more of a cliché to spill your ‘Sherbet Dib-Dab’ on a young ladies chest. As for paying for things, cheques are soooo passé and contactless payment seemed entirely inappropriate for this kind of transaction, so dear Lord for heaven’s sake pay with cash, it’s what rolled up notes are for!

I do not condone any of this behaviour and all future models of iAdrian will be fitted with a remote cut off switch, whereby any behaviour which I do not deem commensurate with the image of the brand will result in the immediate suspension of the account and prototype, any subsequent transgression; in termination.

At that point I will take your clothes, your boots and your motorcycle!

The whole premise of the iAdrian project was to produce a ‘Replicant’ of me that was more Harrison Ford, and less Mr Bean.

It will be fitted with a gyroscopic sensor that determines the nature of the Replicant’s movement and a failsafe device that will ensure that the iAdrian does not fail at any crucial point, also a proximity sensor to make sure no-one else is around to avoid embarrassment when anything does break!

Once again I have been travelling….

Chez Moi?

Yesterday I was sipping Pastis in Montmatre after a fact finding tour to see if I could add a Jazz appreciation app as part of the package.

If you appreciate jazz, this link is my friend Pat’s sister. Lovely girl, incredible voice, super talented, Sara will go far. Maybe with a little help from our friends!

https://soundcloud.com/sara-dowling/sets/from-shadows-into-light-album-sampler/s-pQZeC

and wine tasting?

So I wandered the streets of Paris in the small hours wearing my special beret, glass of absinthe in hand, following a little green faerie. On and on I walked, down narrow side streets until through the gloom I noticed a lantern above a door, a man with eyes like Marty Feldman stepped out of the shadows.

“Niccccceeee to see you both”, he said, and he ushered me into the labyrinth.

Down and down I descended into these caves beneath the Seine following this strange music, hypnotised, or just led by a bottle when suddenly I entered a dimly lit room, full of strange characters, a couple were dancing and a band were playing in a corner. This strange music called Jazz was trying to seduce me, was I undergoing some kind Daliesque transformation, the couple dancing were cutting some strange shapes, and I realised, I really had drunk too much absinthe.

They were Smokin’ as you can see by the proximity of the fire extinguisher to the drummer.

Slowly I floated to the surface to find myself lying on the beach at the side of the Seine, but what I realised was that it wasn’t all a surrealistic dream, or was it?

Had I now entered some sort of nightmare world? Is this how the French make a silk purse out of a Sow’s Ear, or at least the rest of the frog when you’ve taken his legs?

Frog minus Legs.

Despite the debacle over the iAdrian, I have begun to realise that I have become bestowed with super-powers. Beyond not suffering from hangovers, I am now able to walk through steel and glass.

I admit this has had less than 100% success rate. It has resulted in what some people have seen as bizarre and amusing incidents as I hone my powers, but I am starting to understand my limits and test them.

I have been most successful on the newest of tube trains, where I appear to be able to walk the entire length of the train unimpeded; also with doors when they are already open.

I still struggle with the older model of tube and closed doors which does result in me constantly banging my face against the glass like a persistent zombie, but I will succeed, and I have found that pushing, pulling, or even turning the handle on the door will allow me access through to Narnia.

Goodness the absinthe really has stayed with me this time!

Some of you have been asking me why I am not already in Ibiza. I am!

I sent out an updated prototype. We are still working on it, but one night at Amnesia and its memory was wiped… This aside the images being sent back show that it is having fun, in fact so much fun that I may have to go out and make some adjustments, this is likely to become a regular occurrence.

On or two people are a little worried that their faux pas will make it onto these pages, but I promise to keep your identity secret until, well what can I say, until you become famous?

I shall leave with some images of Paris at sunset. It took me a while, but eventually I was able to Photoshop out most of the graffiti!

New stock is already with us, plus a top-up of some summer fun. Photos will follow.

Ten reasons to visit Paris:

1: Jazz?

2: Absinthe

3: Caves

4: Inseinity

5: ……..

La Conciergerie

La Seine

Made to Measure

Posted on May 12, 2015 by volpeadrian

Apparently some of you would like to be reminded that we make garments to measure….

And a bit of eye candy, no, no, no, not Emi, it’s all about me, me, me!

Volpe Night Out

I mean around all my travelling, ducking and diving, you want me to work as well. I’ll have you know I didn’t get into this to have a job it’s more of a role according to Boris, and only a couple of hours a fortnight at that.

A few days in Ibiza here, a weekend in Rome there, it’s as if you are trying to cramp my style!

Anyway, talking of style here are some photos of some outfits that I have put together, in order that you might have some idea of what I will mainly be wearing this summer.

These photos have already made an appearance on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter for those of you who stalk me in such places.

We finally have a full range of summer fabrics for suits, jackets, shirts and beach towels. As it’s not warm enough for beach towels I’ll post those later. I know I’ll only get a slew of “out of office” from those of you who spend more time reclining on a beach than I do.

I’ll keep you abreast of my exploits and travels at another point as we are only a few days in, and don’t worry I’m storing it up.

Goodness, if I have to put up with Neil and Eugene fighting who has the greater column inches each time I write one of these things. Luckily neither on them would be seen dead in any of the things I am posting here!

And so you know it’s not just about jackets, because dahlinks they are so on trend! Heavens I must leave the little green fairee alone!

Look I’m only trying to sound down, and trendy with the kids, and their social media.

I wouldn’t want you to think that we’d forgotten about the suits…. the one above is particularly natty.

Finally here is a photo to show that I can sew. I know you only have my word for that, but I can and have in the past.

Me and the elves are capable of anything, suits, jackets, trousers, shirts, ties, socks, underwear, coats and anything else including beach towels, just ask!

I will defer to Bill Murray to finish, more or less.

When Chekhov saw the long winter, he saw a winter bleak and dark and bereft of hope. Yet we know that winter is just another step in the cycle of life. But standing here among the people of Pimlico and basking in the warmth of their hearths and hearts, I couldn’t imagine a better fate than a long and lustrous winter.

January Newsletter 2015

Posted on January 19, 2015 by volpeadrian

It is good to see so many faces back from the Bacchanalian festivities at New Year.

Today is supposed to be one of the most depressing days of the year, but the sun is shining, so just how bad can it be?

Well now you’re bored; those resolutions are becoming a pain in the behind, and worse; you are SOBER.

Week three of; “Not a drop will pass my lips”, waking in the morning, wondering as Winston Churchill nearly put it, looking at himself in the mirror; “I was drunk, Miss, but this morning I am sober, and you are still ugly!”

And even worse; you’ve been back at work a couple of weeks and just to show how bored everyone really was; the Swiss, yes the Swiss of all people; decided to do something dramatic to shake everyone up a little.

Had the St Bernard been doing the rounds, doling out the Schnapps?

No, they didn’t delay a train, make a cuckoo clock that sang out of tune or wittily divert a ski slope so a Russian Oligarch and his family ended up in the middle of Andorra.

No, what they did was to remove the cap that pegged the Swiss Franc to the Euro! Whoops, panic set in across the global markets, and a Rolex watch quadrupled in price. OK, not really.

It had the immediate effect of making beans on toast in a mountain side restaurant in Gstaad £100. My goodness I should Coco, that’ll be an extra £50.

Well who’d have thought it from the Swiss?

I have been in Italy visiting Bologna, Florence and Pitti Uomo.

Pitti Uomo I have discussed before; but it is a trade show devoted to menswear, dare I say men’s fashion? Well I daren’t say it again!

This is the first group of ‘Fashionistas’ I saw, sporting the latest craze for ‘Boy Band Chic’ where Louis Walsh meets Conchita Wurst.

Boy Band Chic

For those amongst you, who sport a beard, please accept my apologies in advance for any offence I ~~may~~ will cause.

I wore a suit on the two days I attended, when I would have felt more at home dressed as Santa Lycra.

One hall denied me access because I wasn’t looking “Lumbersexual” enough.

WHAT?????????

I looked around, it wasn’t an osteopath’s convention, it wasn’t that dark, no one was bent double wearing some sort of weird harness, holding their back and muttering under their breath “I’m never doing that again”.

Apparently it means a particular look, a hipster beard, check shirt, hat and short trousers and heavy boots. Now at this point I am losing the will to dress again, but I can see men with earrings, sunglasses indoors, bracelets, braces and all the other requirements.

Monty Python clearly got it right with the ‘Lumberjack Song’. Michael Palin sings:

I cut down trees, I skip and jump,
I like to press wild flowers.
I put on women’s clothing,
And hang around in bars.

I chop down trees, I wear high heels,
Suspenders and a bra.
I wish I’d been a girlie
Just like my dear papa.

I am now prepared for this eventuality, I have bought a false beard to carry in my pocket for a fashion emergency, and if you happen to notice that my trouser pocket is bulging, and a few stray hairs can be seen at the pocket opening despite my use of Captain Fawcett’s Moustache wax, fear not; I believe that that if it don’t fit, don’t force it.

Hahahaha. Sorry, couldn’t resist. I knew I’d get that joke in eventually. It’s only been 4 years of toil.

Anyway I have added my twist on the ‘Hipster/Lumbersexual’ look, false beard included and added a photo, and you’ll be happy to see it doesn’t involve Lycra.

Anyway here’s one for The Sartorialist!

Hipster

I know if you didn’t know it was me you’d never know. I took this indoors as you know I would never want to be seen in the street incognito!

Anyway, enough fashion nonsense, dahlinks. You don’t read my newsletter for fashion news or advice. I just post that when it comes in, and given current evidence I haven’t got a clue about anything related to clothing of any shape or form.

I was ill during my trip to Italy, but I did have a dinner with Emanuele to celebrate his birthday, but after that I was consigned to bed for days, not because of food or alcohol, but with a very nasty cold.

However in celebration of Emanuele, here is our annual photo.

Emanuele et moi

I am Xerxes, and earlier I was lain on a chaise longue, minions scurrying here and there peeling me grapes, applying fresh gilt to my skin in order that I might blind anyone who wants an audience with me and my magnificence, and no that is not a euphemism.

Sat humbly at the end of my super sofa, is DJ Dave Cam.

He’d searched out an audience with the greatest dictator the world has ever known, who has conquered more worlds than he has heard of, seen more baked beans than there are in a tin.

He’s put his sunglasses back on, his inability to frown or give any expression of any sorts means we have no idea what he feels about anything, and the glare from my golden glory is so strong that he is rendered inert,

Poof! a puff of smoke, and at his shoulder is ‘Little ol’ Nick’, whispering in Dave’s ear, “I can deliver you the Nation and Europe too. U keep the ones I don’t want, and we’ll get along famously.”

For heaven sake that’s the last time I touch J Collis Browne’s Linctus.

I”ve not been well, but I’ll never touch another drop of that, it’s back to the Absinthe minded faerie for me.

I was starting to hallucinate that we’d be stuck with an Italian style, rotating, coalition government, everyone fighting like rats in a sack, an unholy alliance between Nick Farage and the Scottish Nationals, with the Greens shining a light on it, via the open fridge door. You’d think they’d have they’d have looked at the efficiency rating stepped inside closed the door and been left in the cold, only later to be asked to appear on Gogglebox alongside DJ Dave for ‘Street Cred’.

Right, that really is enough linctus. No it’s not, yes it is, no it’s not. You two stop arguing with yourself, and pass the bottle here, it doesn’t really contain opiates does it?

Oh yes it does, oh, no it doesn’t, oh blimey, oh yes it does.

Mustn’t share this with the other personalities, they’ll all want a sip, and it is January and of course, “Not a drop will pass my lips”.

But no one said a thing about Cough Syrup!

I had to have photographic evidence that this was real and not a hallucination, but then I suppose only in Italy?

Polizia?
Only in Italy!

And to finish, a liitle note to Neil and Scratch.

“Scratchie, get well soon.”

Please read the last newsletter in tribute to Marie Eichner.

A very late October Newsletter…..

Posted on November 13, 2014 by volpeadrian

Just back from Timbuktu……

I will keep returning to this, but it is clear that I can no longer eat anywhere without bumping into someone I know; who just by chance happens to know me. Now if I could only work out how to be famous and rich!

In the last month, Wolf, Chris, Michael, Mark, David, Ahmed, Wolf (again), Damian and The Bear from the Bear hunting joke have all appeared at an establishment where I have been, and I hasten to add, not always the same establishment.

In the end I had to remove myself from Pimlico, and London; and I headed for a cave, much like Jean-Baptiste Grenouille. He was searching out a place of peace and solitude, without scent, without perfume. I, on the other hand was just looking for a place to eat alone.

Climbing up to my place of solitude I passed Neil from Ibiza, scraping lichen from the side of the cliff, he turned and smiled at me his gold tooth glinting in the morning sunshine, his eyes wide and manic, chewing on a mushroom. I must have seemed no more than a little green goblin, and he went back to his task.

Once in my cave, I settled down to eat a sandwich that I had prepared earlier. No sooner had I taken my first bite than a bear loomed large in the opening to the cave, complaining of a sore head and the fact that despite his best efforts he had not managed to deter the hunters. He had a least brought a bottle Ursus Vodka and a couple of glasses, so we shared my sandwich and his vodka.

We both became comfortable with the fact that solitude is rare, but that we would never be lonely.

STOP PRESS: Get well soon Darren that was for you.

This is late, very, very late, but Once again I am in the middle of a series of epic celebrations, they started 3, 5, 9, 14 days ago and continue apace.

For those of you who are still blissfully unaware, but shouldn’t be; the 1^st November is/was my birthday, but thank you to all those of you who helped me celebrate, and those who wished me many happy returns.

I crossed the threshold into November, from Halloween to All Saints.

Emi had asked me if I dressed up for Halloween, I explained that it hadn’t been make-up that I was wearing, but actually my face. She then did that shivery thing that she does and the spent the few minutes tapping wood with her knuckles.

Mug Shot

This was a mug produced by scanning my face and then printing it on Wolf’s 3D printer. The least he could have done, was make it out of chocolate!

I didn’t think I looked that bad for a second night of finishing at after 3am.

Still what do I know?

I’ve posted loads of new stock, and finally it has gone from Mid-Summer Night’s Dream to a bleak mid-winter all in a knight’s tale.

It was a silent night and although the frost was cruel, bahhh humbug, buy something warm for Christmas.

OK, OK, I’ll stop.

Birthday Brunch

The celebrations included all sorts of revelry. Dinner at Plum and Spilt Milk, Sunday brunch at the Corinthia Hotel, a Birthday Carrot Cake baked personally for me. Big Up Dr T.

Birthday Cake

An entertaining evening at The Emirates watching, (and I am not a supporter of any football team), Arsenal throw away a 3-0 lead against Anderlecht. It wasn’t until Arsene asked me and Neil (Trainer) to warm up on the touchline that we realised things had got that bad.

Emirates Selfie – Neil

Finally at the weekend I went up to Newcastle to visit the homeland of my mother’s side of the family, and give Mike and the Magpies a little advice. Not sure how deeply involved I will now be in the Premier League, where will I find the time? I was suitably dressed in a black and white striped, cropped top and shorts for the 3C temperatures.

Durham, because it’s pretty.

Durham

However on Sunday I did get to see the Silver Swan at Bowes Museum in Barnard Castle. It made a pleasant change from seeing the twinkle toed stars doing their dying swan.

Bowes Museum

In fact so busy, I really only caught up with Vash last night!!!!

At this point I will start to show my age, but I think we should finally lay to rest a Saturday night television programme amidst rumours that all is not what it seems.

So I think it’s about time that X-Factor met The Golden Shot, and something less William Tell and more macabre. I suppose it could end up more like Saw; Simon and Louie with apples atop their heads, and Bernie, “The Bolt” please.

In a booth close by, will be middle England represented by Andy Murray’s mum and the future of our children, their television and their music is in her hands.

With previously unseen grace she instructs Bernie, left a bit, up a bit, right a bit, right a bit more, no too far, that’s Attila The Hun, down a bit, down a bit more. FIRE!

I will leave you to work out your conclusion, however in my world and it wouldn’t be good for either Simon or Louie.

Perhaps it’s just a Generation thing, but as long as I end up with a cuddly toy, I’ll be OK.

More new stock will follow.

Waiting for new Stock?

Posted on October 10, 2014 by volpeadrian

THERE WILL BE PHOTOS OF NEW STOCK OVER THE NEXT FEW DAYS –

THAT SAID, BACK TO ME.

So the Ibiza Closing Parties have been and gone.

I haven’t been and didn’t go.

The island will once more become Tarry Town, the legend of Sleepy Hollow will continue, and we all know how that ends. Death and a drug crazed headless horseman, or am I wrong, and is that the general state of affairs in Ibiza?

I draw no comparison to anyone I know, fictional characters or friends, or fictional friends, split personalities and quadro-polar suffering people like me.

I have started to post daily photos of what I am wearing, this has been drawing appreciative comments, and a damn sight better than the photos of me in the Emperor’s new clothes.

There is an entire wardrobe created for his Highness made from the finest gossamer fabrics. As a child the mere use of the ‘g’ word would reduce us all into sniggering wrecks, nothing has changed, and Crispian, I am thinking of you. I wear my immaturity with pride and a lot of colour, as you can see from the photos.

As I said the desire to give things up for a month would have a darker side, and after GoSober we are now being told, well OK, encouraged to ‘Go with the Flow’. So the first shower of the day now should involve a little tinkle, and there will be no pot at the end of the golden rainbow. Apparently we could save 720 million gallons a year!

We could turn that into more alcohol and then toast abstention!

So where I want to know, do we go with ‘Gone with the Wind’?

This week a Mark and I had dinner, thank you Mark. It now appears I cannot go out for a meal anywhere in the universe without bumping into someone I know. We headed for Café Murano, and low and behold if I don’t meet another friend there, but also the restaurant manager was someone I hadn’t seen for a few years. Luckily I had left him with a good impression.

I just wanted to make sure I put this in, before I forgot, age et al.

My recommendations for Ibiza next year, which I will update just before Easter next year:

Hotel:

Hotel Royal Plaza

http://www.royalplaza.es/en

I have been staying here for years. Eduardo Manero is the General Manager and all the staff are fantastic. It has large clean rooms with a balcony, a pool on the roof, close to the centre of Ibiza town and the port in a quiet residential area.

Villas:

Bonder & Co

http://www.bonderco.com/ibiza/

Some of the most amazing villas there are. I have seen them, I know.

Restaurants:

C’an Alfredo

http://www.canalfredo.com/

It is a local restaurant that serves mainly local people, serving mainly local dishes, Juan and his daughter Nuria are lovely people, and one of my favourite places to eat, anywhere.

Blonde Ibiza

https://www.facebook.com/blondeibiza

This will need very little said about it, Eugene, Neil and Wes. Good food, great atmosphere and under the walls of the old town.

La Bodega

http://www.labodegaibiza.es/

One of Ibiza’s best tapas restaurants, book or be disappointed.

C’an Costa

It doesn’t have website, you have to share a table, you can’t book, you just have turn up and wait. It won the ‘La Medalla de Oro’ for food on the Island, and about time too. Dinner will set you back €25 euros including wine, if you push the boat out.

Ibiza town has many similar places they will all require a wait, but there are reasons why you have to wait.

Boats:

http://www.boatsibiza.com

Neil and the crowd will show the island from a completely different perspective.

Bars and Clubs:

I’ll leave you to find these. I have no idea

Beaches:

Ibiza has so many beautiful beaches, you could go to a different beach every day for a month and each one would give something different.

This is one of my favourites and almost impossible to find. Often when I have been there in the height of the August madness I have been alone there.

We are currently planning another wine evening, and I will keep you informed of progress.

Newletter – September 2014

Posted on October 1, 2014 by volpeadrian

September was a great month, I won the lottery.

Yes, it’s true and I shall donate my winnings to charity all £2.60.

And on that theme I will take you back to my January Newsletter and doing, or not doing month, after month for charity. I will admit I got October’s month wrong. By all accounts we have to GoSober…..

£$%& that….What with January’s month of abstinence and now October, never will another drop pass my lips. Ooops, who opened that bottle of champagne, how kind Vash, a sip of that will calm my nerves.

I was on the tube and looked up and saw this photo, all I could think was that this poor guy probably needed a very large drink once he had finished this photo shoot.

GoSober

And if I want to look like a super-hero, it is normally the alcohol that is involved in me putting my underpants on outside my trousers, or slipping into Emi’s red Lycra. This look is so over: been there, done that. The photos are on the blog, you just have to look for them.

Yes, those unbelievers amongst you, I do use public transport; life is not all private jets, boats in the med, expensive champagne, beautiful sunsets and happy endings. Well not always, but I’m working on it.

This isn’t a sunset, but only in Ibiza can you see a rainbow, without clouds, without rain and without a pot of gold at the end, because it had no end.

Rainbow without rain

Anyway back to me.

Last weekend saw me at the Tattoo convention at Tobacco Dock followed by Novikov for a DJ session courtesy of Dan Williams and then on to The Cuckoo Club where the glo’sticks are light sabres. They look like props from “The Singing, Ringing Tree”, look it up on Youtube, it’s terrifying.

The Cuckoo Club was with David Morales who was gigging (note: down with the kids word), he’d been with us at dinner. Us being Neil (Ibiza), Wes, Tai, Tony, Lisa, Blu and Dan, and of course David.

A big thank you to Vash, he said you made him feel like a Superstar DJ.

Sorry Vash, but the similarity is freaky……

He has that look that you get when someone orders a glass, and you’re thinking, look mate you’re on a date, buy a bottle to share with her/him/other you tight git!

Separated at Birth?

What I don’t understand about the clubs like Novikov and Cuckoo, is that no one dances. It’s all meaningless looks, sorry, I mean meaningful looks and vertical drinking. Well the drinking has to be vertical; if they sit down they can’t see over the giant bottle of vodka. I mean there was a point on Friday where I wasn’t scared of the cuckoo; it was the Grey Goose in a bath that frightened the life out of me.

Then it flapped it’s wings and in a moment it was gone.

Glo’sticks for Cuckoos

Use the fork Luke

These were confiscated at the airport on the way back to Ibiza, I wonder whose children are playing with them now? The light sabres, not the motley crew…

Wandering back across St James Park at 4am, the London Eye, never fails to impress.

London Eye 4am

The month had started strangely. I went to see The Dark Knight in Brompton Cemetery, which was slightly eerie, but great fun.

The Dark Knight

Brompton Cemetery

I’d like this skin cream, please…

Before

and

After

The middle of the month saw me celebrate a friend’s birthday lunch at his beautiful country estate in Clapham. I don’t often travel out that far, but this time I didn’t get horribly lost, I just turned up in Balham at a house he hadn’t lived in for years. I just assumed he still lived there, but it was boarded up, the garden was in desperate need of not just a manicure, but a pedicure as well. I suppose that’s the countryside for you. Well I do go to Ibiza more often than I go to Balham. Goodness I’m so ‘metrowhatever’.

I’ve put this in because Neil would like it.

Scartch -Still chasing the Stones after all these years

Scratch -Still chasing the Stones after all these years

In the end, the month ended with some applause. No not for my latest collection of winter clothes, which is starting to arrive, but a huge clap of thunder. It proved that not every day in Ibiza ends with a sunset, but as I ended the summer there last weekend it was a fitting end to the season and as enjoyable as any sunset.

Summer Lightning

And just to end, I will be posting photos of some new stock.

Summer has ended Newsletter 2014

Posted on September 9, 2014 by volpeadrian

Happy Birthday Sam, and Tony.

So once again I get a slew of “Out of Office” replies… Sven it appears is never in his office.

No, not Nancy’s Sven, another Sven. I’d forgotten all about that Sven. He’s now managing Guangzhou R&F in China, I had to look that up on Wikipedia. Sometimes I wonder why I bother, anyway I’m away on holiday, am I bothered?

It seems that this newsletter is a kind of 50 Shades of Grey thing. Clearly there are more shades of Grey than that, he just wasn’t using his imagination, just ask John Major. More peas Norma? Bet that’s not in there. Our Emi has given up reading it on the tube, because….. Because everyone was staring at her, and as far as she was concerned it had nothing to her gorgeousness. A customer’s words, not mine I hasten to add.

The newsletter is helping a relatively newly married couple spice up their bedroom activities because they have admitted to reading this together in bed before….ahem! Well who’d of thought it? I didn’t think it was that racy, it appears all the talk of Lycra and mink saddles has got some amongst you getting a little frisky.

Talking of the mink saddle; it has gone; as anticipated to a private collection in Japan. It will go into a glass case alongside such rare items as a pair of worn Britney Spears panties and a photo of Madonna with her clothes on.

I know it’s been cold and wet at home, but I’ve been sunning myself in Ibiza and training for my next challenge in the vain hope that I will remain drier than I had been on the bike ride. That being said, perhaps I shall don a deep sea diver’s suit, lead weights and all; and to make it easier I shall carry Adam on my shoulders dressed as Goldilocks.

I will reveal all very soon. OK, at about 10.30am when I get to the beach. Eeeeewwwwww!

Why, Oh why is it that the people who will insist on sunbathing in the altogether are the ones who should be the ones who should holiday in a tent, and wear it!

This trip to the island has been much more relaxed, Eugene has been away at Burning Man, which has done its best to impersonate Glastonbury and offer a deluge of epic proportions followed by naked mudwrestling. Apparently he has bought himself a scooter to get himself around. I thought that he would have had a gyrocopter, or more appropriately a jet ski, but he likes to keep his feet on terra-firma. Oh, really!

Neil has been on good form, ably assisted in the studio this summer by Tai, Jonny, Rudi and Wesley Thomas. He even managed to seem relaxed a certain points. There was a tricky moment at dinner one evening. We were at the dessert stage as Sergio was out walking the dogs. As he wandered past, Neil scooped up the aptly named “Bon-Bon”, I have captured the moment where Neil went to swallow him whole, sadly Bon-Bon was not best pleased; clearly suffering from little dog syndrome.

Bon Bon Snack

The first few days were spent in the company of a bevy of lovely young ladies.

Me and 4 girls alone on a boat with my reputation?

They were here to party hard. A little VIP with David Guetta at Pasha, Ushuaia, Glitterbox at Boom, Space, Blue Marlin and finally a little Amnesia, which is probably what was needed. And OK, perhaps I shared the best part of a bottle of Vodka with myself, whilst talking to Oleg next to me who by all accounts is a worse dancer than I am.

Pasha VIP

Bevy

The boat was thanks to another Neil, this time at BoatsIbiza. We spent the day with Phil and Tracy aboard their Sunseeker. A little trip round Es Vedra, a couple of bays, lunch at a beach restaurant, finishing with a Sunset in the bay in front of Café del Mar. I cannot recommend them highly enough, it was a day to remember.

http://www.boatsibiza.com

Neil has offered a 5% discount to anyone contacting him and mentioning our recommendation.

Our Funseeker

Swimming at Es Vedra

Magical Es Vedra

Cafe del Mar Sunset

I’m not the only one who has been away.

Perseus has a new job and hence is on “gardening leave”. Apparently Emi wants this, but without changing jobs. By all accounts Perseus is counting windmills on Mykonos, or something like that. The things people do that pass for fun! He will no doubt return, his legs as white as snow. The rest of him will have changed colour, marginally. He’ll bitch about everything, but that’s his way and I love him for it; I think if he were a cocktail, he’d be “Caustic Soda”. In his words, he’s so “Beefcake”, a walking barbecue flavoured tortilla chip.

The football season has started again. Millions have been spent, and has it changed anything? The lottery of who will get Luis “Gummy Bear” Suarez has been answered. To cap it all, he’ll be filling a hole in the middle, bridging the gap to attack, and probably scoring a brace.

Poor little Wayne has had more responsibility heaped upon those already hunched shoulders, running round like a Chinese crested dog, steam coming out of his ears. Apparently he thought by becoming captain he would get a uniform and a cap with badges on it. Super Mario is back, and has intimated that he wants me to make all his clothes for him. No, no, no. This is a man who can’t put a training bib on, and fails miserably time after time to get his hat on the right way round.

I already have a very mad, high maintenance customer who phones me from all over the world in order that I tell him what to wear, this was topped off recently, by having to explain to him what going “commando” meant. He didn’t get it first or second time, and I certainly wasn’t going to demonstrate via Skype.

So with Mario I don’t even want to do something as complicated as buttons.

Shortly we will be inundated with new stock, but until that point you will have to read about all of my exploits as I travel far and wide in search of the next legal high. There are a few of you who have attempted to tempt me with something a little less straight laced, but I will always refuse, unless it has an alcohol base.

Mr Portillo has a new series coming up. I’m sworn to secrecy, but apparently that’s the gist of it. It will be coming to a small screen near you very soon.

And of course soon I’ll have my new iphone XXVI. However I will sign of this newsletter with a last Sunset from Iibza.

Another Ibiza Sunset

Sent from my iphone XXV

April 2013 – Newsletter

Posted on April 30, 2013 by volpeadrian

So today was one of those rare ornithological moments. In the words of Monty Python, beautiful plumage, but it’s just resting. I could ask Jake to recite the rest, but he’s still in shock. Traitor, I hear you all shout in unison. Why because he won 60 squid betting against his own team, the mighty Wolves, however we’ll come back to that.

Ever with my binoculars at the ready, spotted in full flight this morning, in its natural surroundings, the lesser spotted Jason. So often now it seems to prefer a more secluded office environment, but Marie and I were treated to a brief view of his immaculate feathers in The Wolseley. There was a brief courtship between him and the even rarer, lesser spotted Jayne, but if you know the history, Jason’s mere presence close to the nest may result in more than we bargained for. If you don’t know the history, you’re just going to have to look it up.

Michael is moving back home. After several months living away from his toaster, he is returning. Fresh Prince of Bel Air, with a new roof terrace, once again his neighbours can be treated to the kind of antics that would make Caligula blush. This time rather than from behind his blinds we all may be treated to ‘Babes in the Wood’ from behind frosted glass. Feed me another grape please.

Please note, Michael has been dieting and working out for his next performance. He has taken to walking round the shop in the tiniest of shorts flexing his muscles and shouting “Beefcake” a la Cartman. I’m really starting to worry what he may be putting in the protein shakes.

Really I don’t want a “Roid Rage” incident in the shop, someone suggested rohypnol. It’s bad enough with me when I’m highly strung. Yes I know, not highly enough I hear some or all of you say.

Except the truth is always blurred, and Michael is a delightful fellow.

My weekend was taken up once again with preparing the VAT. Oh yawn, but I did go and see Iron Man 3 in 3D. I really enjoyed it, however the 3D was rubbish, and Sir Ben stole the show as “The Mandarin”. Gwynnie looked great, but then there’s a little history there!

Inside us all, there is a thespian trying to get out. I’m sure Jake will have to go back to treading the boards. It looks like he will need something to distract him from the ignominy of League One football. I know that many of you like to strike up a conversation with him about football.

A suggestion; for the moment – don’t. You see he’s hurtin’ bad, on so many levels. He mourns the passing of the ‘Great McCarthy’, the money wasted on a new stand, where next season they’ll be shooting “One Man and His Dog”. He’s been hangdog enough for the last week, and to strike up a conversation may be a step too far.

But, let’s not forget spring is here. David has broken out the shorts. Now pale, even white legs I can understand, but David’s are still a worrying shade of blue and it’s not woad. He’s a Chelsea supporter and even that wouldn’t account for it, but like all football supporters it’s OK one minute and not the next.

Eventually the warm weather will get here and we can all warm our tired, old bones. I can turn that particular shade of orange that I always go. I will face the sun at noon, and chant in unison via Skype with Neil, and even Eugene, if he’s got time to stop partying.

Like all prayers, we’ll be asking for something, without actually asking for it. Let the summer be long, sunny and hot, like the shorts you all should be wearing.

Let’s hope that they get close to your knees, no “Daisy Duke’s” for the guys, and don’t forget to wash your feet and have a pedicure. Wear driving shoes in town and save the flip-flops for the beach or the park. Perhaps paint each of the toenails a different colour it’s a look I espouse, and it keeps people at more than an arms-length in the gym. Well when you’re in the kind of shape I’m in, all attention is unwanted and unrequired. Believe that you’ll believe anything, just give me a chance to rip my shirt off and run Matthew McConaughey style for a bus. Tony, don’t record that for YouTube, please!

Anyway, I’m a vain old sod, and I don’t care. They’ll come a time when I may have to resort to a Zimmer Frame, meanwhile I have 95 year old aunt who lives in a caravan in a field and hitch-hikes everywhere. No, it has nothing to do with longevity it’s about the madness in the genes.

At last the truth is beginning to surface.

Let’s round this off with a visit from Sunil. You know he’s the one who wakes me at all hours with a text to ask me what I’m doing. Well normally at that time of day I’m sleeping, like everybody else in my time zone. He picked up a cashmere cap to match his cape, I joked about a bobble for it in Chinchilla, and he shot me a look, as if to say “are you crazy”? When what he really meant was; why didn’t I think of that? He was happy with his blue cashmere over shirt. Sunil, you live in the Middle East, why?

Exactly, there is a little madness in us all. Sometimes it is more evident than others, but as long as we nurture it, never lose it, don’t let it run around unchecked, there won’t be too much chance that we’ll get arrested, or worse…….

Lastly, two quotes:

1: You’re only given a little spark of madness. You mustn’t lose it. – Robin Williams (How did he get in here, separated at birth?)

Jake’s handy work!

2: There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness. – Friedrich Nietzsche

Mid April 2013 – Newsletter

Posted on April 19, 2013 by volpeadrian

As the book is started, and the characters are developed, there is one who freely admits he hasn’t progressed beyond childhood, my cup now runneth over and my creative juices are flowing once again. I could crush a grape! Stop pouring Vash.

Looks like there is another book about me doing the rounds. In it, I am painted as something of a Peter Pan character, with the attributes of Captain Hook, and none of those of Mary Poppins. I’ve heard it is one of the greatest works of fiction ever written. I think its title is “The Life I Never Led”. Tick – tock, tick – tock.

Ever the optimist I will wait for the sequel, it will be quite a challenge to improve on the last one, and I think most of the character development of those involved in the original has been exhausted. So as Tim Robbins said, perhaps I should write two (news) letters a week.

The book will easily transfer to a film. As always Tom Cruise will be aching to play me, but I will have to choose carefully. Perhaps this time, a gritty British actor, I see endless possibilities ahead. Gerard Butler almost has the body, but that inpenetr… accent of his, means that whatever I try to get across in my strange written style will be further lost by his delivery. Or Jason Statham, who comes close, but is always after my ideas for his next suit. I could choose Brando, but then the resemblance would be uncanny, and I love ice cream, especially the dark chocolate one, called Fondente from La Carraia in Florence. Oh, how I miss that.

Versions of the screenplay will appear, but it should have been written by Harold Pinter, sadly he is on a rather long pause; the music by? Certainly not, he’s really out of favour, and I couldn’t stand the wife constantly interfering in my life and affairs. And sadly Richard is no longer around to critique it. How I miss our chats together. He would have constantly corrected my grammar, but I would never have minded.

By now you’ve all read my Ibiza exploits, the tattoos are healing nicely. Not like last time, when 6 hours in Lycra hot pants meant they took an age to heal. Perhaps wearing the mankini at the same time to travel back in didn’t help either. I don’t want to make Neil that angry again, but I’ll do anything to wave my glo’stick at the night sky.

The dog days of summer will soon be with us. Already people are casting off their winter shells, hibernation is over. The cast that has been attacking your cashmere has become a moth, and fluttered off to lay its eggs and destroy another garment. An exasperated customer told me recently that she had lost so much cashmere to moths, that she was going with her kids to the Butterfly House at Syon Park, to allow them to exact their own form of revenge!

That said we should go back to La Carraia. Oh, yes I should, oh no you shouldn’t, oh stop it. My life is not a pantomime no matter what you think. Anyway, on my last visit to Florence, I can’t say when, it was for legal reasons; they delivered a bath load of Fondente, to my hotel. It’s great for the skin, if not for the waistline. Well I did have to eat my way out.

Some are given to bathing in donkeys (yes I know it’s as*$#s) milk, well I couldn’t possibly comment? No really it would be rude to insult their intelligence. I preferred to bath in the rich cool chocolatiness of Fondente. Attached is a photo. Yes I know there is another flavour, it is Fior di Panna. There were photos of me in the bath, but I wanted you to read to the end of this, rather than swoon at this point, so they were omitted.

Ever reminded of Frankie Howerd, I always want to shout “Up Pompeii” each time someone crosses my path. Well OK, up something, but once again we must be sympathetic to spam filters, theirs is a joyless existence. Stopping this, restricting that, what has the world come to! Anyway that’s why I couldn’t post the photos of me in the bath.

My friends can post photos of themselves snorkelling without clothes in the alpine snow. It was absinthe, m’lud, not abstinence that did it. The little green light at the bottom of the bottle said, go, go, go. And so I did. At this point I will introduce a link to a friend’s blog. Gehan writes the Martini Mandate, give it a go, you’ll enjoy it: www.martinimandate.com

Perhaps the Ibiza exploits don’t seem quite so bad now. Eugene and Ina are back in Copenhagen. If you are ever there and are looking for a coffee, his is the place to go. We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when. Oh yes we do, oh no we don’t, oh give it a rest! We will reminisce, swap stories and then start the party all over again. Hopefully this time with a full compliment.

Real life continues no matter what fantasies I create for myself. Last weekend I went to see Oblivion, just to see if TC was up to playing me. Apparently it was shot in Iceland. The scenery was breath-taking, so I will be booking a trip to see the aurora borealis, be TC and eat whale blubber, any takers?

Eventually even I have to stop tapping the keyboard, but I do have to mention Jake. As many of you who follow football have sympathised with him, he is now sobbing gently under the stairs, when the mighty Wolves are meekly heading for oblivion.

Sent from my new super duper ipad