It’s been a few weeks since I last posted – we’ve had a recent brilliantly relaxing holiday in the Vendee region of France with all my beautiful daughters, fine sons-in-law and, of course our fab grandsons (minus footballer S who was in the middle of his pre-season training programme, sadly). Apart from that I’ve been really, really busy on writing stuff. Tonight I’ve got a bit of a break on a big piece of web-building stuff whilst I await a go-ahead or otherwise. So time to do some blogging again. And the theme is underpants. Yes ladies I’m going to share some manly insight with you about how a real brutal hunk of a man chooses his briefs. Steady girls.
No not a lowly Royal in-law but a rather elegant tie knot favoured by one of the guests we met last night at my wife’s boss’ dinner party. It was a really fun do and not only did I meet some very nice people, particularly C’s lovely boss, but also discovered the pleasures of eating a la raclette, learned some interesting stuff about the construction techniques of castles mentioned in the Doomsday book as well as the joys of performing live plays in Latin and the earthier delights of sailors’ brothels in Ironbridge. Yes our dinner guests were all from the academic world you may not be surprised to learn but what a pleasant diversion it was.
I have to admit to a high regard for those guys whose dress sense looks so effortless but oh so cool. Especially if the blokes are of a certain age, you know middle-aged and greying a little or, heaven forbid, carrying a little less on top. But certainly carrying a few more pounds than they did in their 20’s. I’m going to exclude from my list of the best dressers, guys like David Beckham and Frank Lampard because they are young, fit and way too good-looking for their own good (as my nan used to say) and, since they are also richer than Croessus, can employ stylists to help them pick their daily head-to-toe Armani ensembles. No I’m talking about the guys who seemingly throw on some regular casual togs and just end up creating a distinctive almost iconic look. Almost as if they weren’t trying. If I didn’t admire them so much, I’d have to hate them.