Better late than never – Bacchanalian celebrations continue

For goodness sake, give me five minutes sojourn from travelling, and celebrating my birthday in order to write a newsletter.

I thought you’d all be glad of a rest from all this drivel, but I have been reminded more than once, that I hadn’t written anything in ages.

This has meant that I have had to break off from my Bacchanalian feasting long enough to press fingers on keys and give my own peculiar take on world events.

My birthday; if you were not aware occurs on All Saints Day, this was a source of mirth for one or two of you. Moi the third Duke of Pimlico in a vineyard in Bordeaux at 3am with my reputation?

But my thoughts are drawn to current affairs…. No, the news, not my private life. For heaven sake, do you have to look at everything from a juxtaposition? I tried it, my back has only just recovered, and I know there are some of you who will go home and try this tonight, I warn you it’s not what you think, so don’t blame me.

Politics on both sides of the Pond is starting to look like a really bad haircut, with politicians fighting for attention, like Donkey in the Shrek movies, pick me, pick me. Waiting for Simon to press his Golden Buzzer.

Unfortunately it seems our politics have never been more polarised and the speeches are being made from the wings each playing to their own gallery, too scared or unable to understand how to take the centre stage.

The Washington and Westminster villages are starting to look like bubbles where the people on the inside are the ones wielding the pins and seem set on trying burst them!

I leave it to the Bard to Prologue the scene:

Two households, both unalike in dignity,
In fair Parliament, where we lay our scene,
From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean….

After Shakespeare.

Jingoism Unchained, the people are set free, we are all headed for Candyland.

Europe meanwhile, has been enjoying an Indian summer, et ego quoque.

I decided that this year the celebrations would mirror those of Bacchus, but only after I had returned to the white isle for one last swim. I have a small secluded beach I run to, where I can guarantee that I will not be troubled by people requiring my sartorial advice, where I can be at one with nature.

S'estanyol

S’estanyol

Even in the middle of October the water in Ibiza was warm enough for me not to require a layer of goose grease, anyway it would be a terrible waste of foie!

Neil was on sparkling form, we were going to cycle together now that we have formed the Inkadelic Cycling Club, but a short, sharp shower put paid to that and Neil decided that I required a little more work. Raoul my ‘waxer’ was mortified, but he does scare easily and Halloween was just round the corner. He just kept muttering, is that blood, real blood?

It was my intention to post a photo of Neil at work, but it has been censored following several complaints after I had posted it on Facebook.

Inkadelic Cycling Club Ibiza

Inkadelic Cycling Club Ibiza

Neil has finally put down some serious roots on the island, and is looking forward to moving into his new pad in D’alt Villa next year.

We both made a new friend this year and our thoughts are with this new friend and his dad after Shifty came off worse in an altercation with a car. Shifty is a miniature pinscher and those of you who are that way inclined can follow him on Instagram ‘Shiftys_world’.

Instagram shiftys_world

Instagram shiftys_world

My life is full of rich experiences, whether someone is chucking pound coins at me and demanding that I dance, perhaps this is what it is like being at a West Ham game (it transpires that the rent on the Olympic Stadium is less than I pay for the shop, how does that happen?); or an older lady telling me how much she admires how I fill out my clothes, it appears I’m on to a winning streak!

Bordeaux by night

Bordeaux by night

My birthday celebrations took place in Bordeaux and Saint Emilion, swanning, not swaying round a couple of Chateaux.

My private tour was organised by ‘Bordeaux with Elodie’.

http://www.bordeauxwithelodie.com/

I cannot recommend Elodie and Laetitia highly enough.

They organised two wonderful days around Bordeaux.

A marvellous tour of two vineyards in Saint Emilion, Chateau Guadet, which is one of only two Chateau in the centre of the village, full of history and eerie limestone tunnels.

http://www.chateau-guadet-saintemilion.fr/

This was followed by a tasting of some magnificent wines, and before you ask, that is a bottle of Chateau Angelus, and yes we did taste 8 wines. Hic!

If I must!

If I must!

And I may have bought the odd bottle.

This was followed by lunch and a visit to a more modern set up, at the newly renovated Chateau Tour Saint Christophe, set in the beautiful rolling hills around Saint Emilion. Wonderful wines with a different structure.

www.vignoblesk.com

Laetitia drove us back to Bordeaux, via all the Chateaux of the area. The sun went down to end a perfect day.

Sunset over Chateau Angelus

Sunset over Chateau Angelus

The next day was spent at the Dune du Pyla, where I imagined I was Lawrence of Arabia… I can but dream, but by all accounts I have strange imagination and do not live in the real world.

Dune du Pyla

Dune du Pyla

And lunch…… You can see the weather was kind.

La C(o)rniche

La C(o)rniche

We have many new projects afoot including a 360 degree view inside the shop on both levels. Just drag the little dangly man on Streetview over the shop on Google Maps and by the power of the interweb you are beamed by Scotty straight onto the ground floor, press the lift button and the basement beckons.

There will be a new website, it will be attached to this blog and also as a separate entity and much more impressive presence on social media.

And if you have read all the way to the end, there will be a wine tasting soon, including some of the wines I brought back.

Copyright © 2016 Adrian Holdsworth. All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

Tripping the Light Fantastic

I have, as I always have; been tripping the light fantastic.

There is some new stock, but this newsletter is merely window dressing, a little foreplay before the main event, call it a drip feed.

I could employ a ‘fluffer’ to keep you all entertained, plumping pillows, stroking cashmere, but already I can feel your minds starting to wander. In a future life I may come back as a goldfish, anyway, where was I? Whoa… stop: side of the bowl!

Empire State

Empire State

Lest we forget

Lest we forget

To begin the beguine, I would like to thank everyone for their support on my little trip to New York. It was a pleasure to see you all, some old friends, and some new.

And I fell in love, her name is Erica, she’s not yet 2 and adorable. Sorry Henry!

As you can gather I will be planning many more jaunts to quench my thirst for wanderlust, and for those of you who are unsure, ‘wanderlust’ is not a cocktail. I can already see this newsletter will be full of explanations, definitions and double entendres, and that’s starting to confuse the spell checker.

I could sit around all day reading philosophy, pretending I understood Seneca, but as a goldfish I swim in shallower water. The world’s sfumatore is a grey mist, I am a child of blue skies, and talking of blue skies, I was back in Ibiza at the weekend.

Neil world famous tattooist invited me out for a few days cycling, he is a changed man, his days of partying are behind him, now it’s all carbon fibre (fiber for the Americans amongst you), gear ratios and black Lycra.

Two great, long rides in two days, the first included a stop for lunch at Puertas del Cielo. I may have had a slight accident afterwards, whilst I was standing still. Why are there always paparazzi around at moments like this?

Tumbling Dice

Tumbling Dice

The second ride was on the beautiful island of Formentera. I had always assumed that the island was entirely flat! Well it is; apart from the long climb up to the lighthouse at Pilar de la Mola.

Creative writing moment… I climbed the hill up to La Mola, my legs still heavy from the previous day’s exertions and the tarmac was dragging on my tyres in the heat, I navigated bend after bend as I made swift progress towards the summit. My thighs were starting to burn and I changed through the gears to keep my cadence steady, beads of sweat forming on my forehead, each turn led to another, the air thinning and filled with the scent of the pine trees, the tight Lycra clinging to me, fifty shades of blue, not much further… OK that’s enough, my mum might be reading this!!!

Torpedoes away

Torpedoes away

The Hills have Hills

The Hills have Hills

The Hills of Formentera

The Hills of Formentera

Neil always carries a spare banana in his Lycra… Stop it!

On the way down to El Faro de la Mola he ate the banana and discarded the skin at the side of the road. We stopped at the lighthouse and took some photos, Neil drank a ‘Red Bull’, tucked the empty can into the pocket on the back of his shirt, we turned round to head back to the village, and a well-deserved beer.

We had cycled a few hundred metres when I was passed by a Police car, lights and siren on. There must have been some sort of emergency, perhaps a lost dog; you know one of those toy ones which live in a handbag, maybe it had locked itself out!

BUT no, they were pulling Neil over.

The older policeman who had been driving was lecturing Neil about the illegal dumping of a banana skin. Neil was saying as it was ‘residuos biodegradables’ (hablo español), he didn’t think there was anything wrong with it and then produced the empty ‘Red Bull’ can from his pocket which he was going to recycle!

The younger policeman in the passenger seat was laughing the whole time.

He’d noticed that Neil was smoking a joint.

This could only happen on Ibiza.

Neil was let off with a reprimand and offered to go back and pick the discarded skin up.

Meanwhile he had sent me the location of a dead hedgehog we’d seen at the side of the road; someone would be back for that later, to add to Neil’s menagerie in formaldehyde!

He was in London at the end of last week for a Tatttoo Convention, a great success and I know he was here to pick up a few special things!

Sadly we missed each other as I was preforming live on stage, well not on stage per say, more I was approached by a number of groupies to produce my best Robin Williams impersonation.

Judge for yourself!

Batman or Robin?

Batman or Robin?

 

Copyright © 2016 Adrian Holdsworth. All Rights Reserved.

Newsletter – Cast Off – July 2016

Please read to the end there will be some news that some of you may have been waiting for!

I have moved the information up the Newsletter as one or two of you were complaining that you were nodding off before the end!

+STOP PRESS+

The VOLPE Sale will start with previews from Wednesday 27th July 2016.

Right, so on with the important stuff.

So as the dust settles, tumbleweed rolls past the door.

A hosepipe ban is only hours away, we are basking in only the 4th day this year of over 25C, and according to Jake the year is nearly over.

They are frying eggs on the pavement… Easy-over there!

My mobile occasionally rings, I say occasionally.

When it isn’t a wrong number (stalkers from Italy), or a personal injury claim (of which I have several running at the moment, predominantly for my hurt feelings), it has been Theresa asking me to pop round and fix a cabinet, Jeremy to break up a fight in the school playground, Neptune to make him a new trident, or the FA ask for advice on how to dig a hole and then fill it in again, and again, and again.

Then there is the thud at the front door, do I dare to dream? Hollywood, a screenplay, a biopic, who would play me? I’d have to forget anyone who I ‘may’ have insulted through the magic that is this Newsletter, but as they are not named, they wouldn’t know.

The ‘D’ list definitely not, he’s done way too much Panto, and I don’t dress like Danny La Rue. Oh yes you do, Oh no I don’t. Stop!

Then there’s that other chap who got really hot and bothered by the photos of me in red Lycra. Given his physique, my vision of the romantic scenes would be of a wardrobe falling on someone, with the key still in, more cabinetmaker, than locksmith.

So it’s a case of who’s not working at the moment, and I must say it’s a bit of a struggle, as we have sadly lost a couple of candidates this year, we could have had me playing Prince, being me, but that’s just too weird even for me.

There are the usual suspects; Ryan Gosling, Ethan Hawke, Russell Crow or Jack Sparrow, even an avatar, but then I might get mistaken for a Pokemon. Go damn spot, go I say! Yet, who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him. I can hear Shakespeare a spinnin’, Macbeth versus Pokemon. “Lay on Macduff, and damned be him who first cries ‘Hold enough’!”

Ah! ‘Tempus Fugit’.

The maelstrom of political intrigue is threatening to engulf the holidays of our illustrious leaders and we are surrounded by those whose tousled locks are the stuff of legend.

Our Foreign Secretary who looks like he has been pulled through a hedge fund backwards following Brexit, The Donald whose hair is so swept over that there may be surfers trapped in there, and Uncle Bill whose split ends resulted in the most expensive haircut of all time, so spare thought as we are drawn towards le petit “Francois” who is clearly paying by instalments!

Will he be wearing a bathing cap to the beach this year, and what will be the repercussions for his coiffeur? After being paid €10,000 a month to deal with wee Franky’s helmet hair, how on earth will he banish those stray forehead tan lines and constant smell of rubber?

So whatever we feel about the gravy train, it will be followed by one carrying Hollandaise!

I’ve done a little more travelling. Aha! I hear you all exclaim at once, we were wondering how long it would take you to get there! I didn’t want to seem predictable and just rush in without a little foreplay.

I was back in Ibiza for an unveiling, well, less of an unveiling and more for a casting off. Neil had broken his wrist a month ago and finally the cast was removed. Finally God created man, and for those of you who thought I had yet more tattoos, this photo is of Neil’s hand!

Keep reading to the end!

And God created man

And God created man

And the man’s genius is starting to head in a new direction.

Mosaic

Mosaic

Limited edition, hand engraved dials for a Milgauss.

We shared a long lunch under the umbrellas of the marina and on the wander back to town I spotted a Ferrari 458 hidden under a bleached cover, sheltering from the sun.

Undercover

Undercover

On the way to the airport and Rome for a little work, I stopped at Salinas for this.

Salinas

Salinas

I spent the evening in Rome with Max and his family, at the restaurant Il Moro with the owners Stefania and Simone.

Still one of my favourite places in the world to eat, and eat we did, to a standstill, until I could not eat another thing and just sit and watch the sun go down!

Big Bang

Big Bang

 

Copyright © 2016 Adrian Holdsworth. All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

 

 

June Newsletter 2016

Once again I am asked how I come up with these phantasmagorical tales.

Well let me tell you.

You leave a couple of politicians in charge of the magical lantern and suddenly they are projecting all sorts of frightening images onto the wall, playing with our imagination, fuelling our fears, creating a farrago, until in their frenzy to outdo each other, they knock the magic lantern over and then scarper, blaming each other for burning the theatre down.

I think we drew the short straw.

The Italians have opera, which is their theatre drawn from real life, the Japanese; Kabuki with their exotic make-up, masks and songs, the Mexicans have their wrestling with its exotic make-up, masks and songs, just ask Donald; and the Welsh have Gareth Bale.

We have on the other hand have got the “The Good Old Days” back, with Leonard Sachs and all the pathos of a smug pug singing the “Marseillaise”. Apparently we have our country back?

Long, lazy days of doing sweet FA, not unlike our premiership superstars. Drinking cider in the parks, fighting like the Inter City Firm, no grudge too small, no boots too big, all in the days before love and ecstasy. How bizarre to see a smile on everyone’s face.

I owned an Austin Allegro with its oddly shaped, square steering wheel and it didn’t matter if it was made on a Friday, it was a dreadful car on whichever of the 3 days a week it was made. I think it ran on coal, and the suspension was made out of elastic bands.

Now admittedly if I was dragged back to “The Darling Buds of May” and Catherine Zeta-Jones was my Cherie Amour I might view it as a lovely summer day, but 1976 was a long time ago, and there is only so much rolling around in the hay one can do. Quiet, anybody who thinks they know better!

How the nostalgia seeps up through cracks in the pavement, and it will, but we have moved on.

With the French in charge of EDF, the Germans owning nPower and Eon UK, the Spanish, Scottish Power, to paraphrase ‘The Sun’; “If common sense does not prevail, will the last person to leave Britain please blow the candle out!”

I am fascinated to see how nasty politics has become. Perhaps they have been trapped in the underworld for a very long time with Perseus, drinking absinthe and caustic soda, watching endless repeats of Eastenders.

Hades raised an eyebrow. When he sat forward in his throne, shadowy faces appeared in the folds of his black robes, faces of torment, as if the garment was stitched of trapped souls from the Fields of Punishment, trying to get out.

If only I could get him to give Boris’s bike puncture!

Now, is not the time for politicians to enter into philosophical discussion, it is time to run. The masses now have pitchforks and the politicians are looking a lot like Wicker Men.

Anyway I shall head back to Ibiza, and Hedonism not Hades, I know where my priorities lie.

I will not be staying in the new rural hotel bocadilloed between the club DC10 and the airport. It is called ‘In Flagrante’. So if you are spied in ‘delicto’ it will be by drugged up clubbers from 500ft landing at 3am. I supposed you might say. “Only in Ibiza”.

Since May’s newsletter I have visited the island a couple of times. The first trip involved Neil, Tony and myself spending the night in the DJ booth at Pacha with a young, up and coming DJ called David Morales. The best set I have ever witnessed, below are a couple of photos.

Can you call me back, I'm working

Can you call me back, I’m working

Needin' U

Needin’ U

It finished very late! As it did every night, and I will admit to falling asleep for 20 minutes at the bar, Itaxa at 6.30am, where they serenaded me into slumber with a Spanish guitar. The eighty year old lady, who owns it, gave me a tea towel for a pillow! Tony’s eyes were open, but don’t sharks sleep that way?

We visited a bar called Exis owned by Birgit a German friend and she has a wall covered in photos of clients over the years. It was a poignant reminder of losing my dear friend Richard, 5 years ago, and how many of the faces that stare out from these photos are still with us?

The photo speaks for itself.

The Wall

The Wall

We enjoyed the usual birthday celebrations on Formentera, and after 6 litres of vodka, this spider saw a fly and the hypnotic spray from the wake of the boat sped us from one paradise to another.

FLy

Fly

Spray

Spray

June is easily the best month in Ibiza, the sea not too crowded, nor the restaurants or bars, people are still calm. Neil is still drinking green tea, before the triple espresso, high octane ‘cafe caleta’ season starts.

As in the past I have used trips to Ibiza to avoid going to Pitti Uomo in Florence. This may be the final straw, and why I may never go again. I also re-iterate, this is not me. It is so wrong on so many levels and in what world does this person think this looks acceptable. There are moments in fashion where you realise that the vogue has reached a tipping point and those teetering on the brink will tumble into the sea to be dashed against the rocks, dresses made out of newspaper, anything with a medusa’s head, shoes that make you walk like Dick Emery and braces that look like a ‘Mankini’ for a dandy!

Brace yourself

Brace yourself

Lastly a sunset, because we have been bereft of suns a setting, lords a leaping, seven swans a swimming, I have been lucky with the ladies dancing, but one makes ones own luck? Unless you are sharing a table in a restaurant; some will know this story, the rest can only guess at how I might have been transformed!

Sunset

And a Jakeism to end – Christmas is now closer than the last New Year. Joy, thy name is Time!

Copyright © 2016 Adrian Holdsworth. All Rights Reserved.

New Jackets and Gilets for Spring & Summer

Below we have a selection of jackets and gilets available and also a casual jacket that is unavailable at the moment as it is already sold out.

Reversible Brown Leather Jacket

Reversible Brown Leather Jacket

Reversible Leather Jacket (Reversed)

Reversible Leather Jacket (Reversed)

Light Green Nylon Body and Knitted Sleeves

Light Green Nylon Body and Knitted Sleeves – Please note: This garment is currently out of stock and we are in the process of trying to source some more

Dark Green Nylon Body and Knitted Sleeves

Dark Green Nylon Body and Knitted Sleeves – Please note: This garment is currently out of stock and we are in the process of trying to source some more

Navy Blue Nylon Micro Down Filled Gilet

Navy Blue Nylon Micro Down Filled Gilet

Dark Green Nylon Micro Down Filled Gilet

Dark Green Nylon Micro Down Filled Gilet

Orange Nylon Micro Down Filled Gilet

Orange Nylon Micro Down Filled Gilet

Khaki Nylon Micro Down Filled Gilet

Khaki Nylon Micro Down Filled Gilet

Yellow Nylon Micro Down Filled Gilet

Yellow Nylon Micro Down Filled Gilet

Light Green Nylon Micro Down Filled Gilet

Light Green Nylon Micro Down Filled Gilet

Navy Blue Nylon Micro Down Filled Over Shirt

Navy Blue Nylon Micro Down Filled Over Shirt

 

Copyright © 2016 Adrian Holdsworth. All Rights Reserved.

A very late October Newsletter…..

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 1st 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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

 

 

Copyright © 2014 Adrian Holdsworth. All Rights Reserved.