Polished professionals

Every man has his breaking point. Like Michael Douglas in ‘Falling Down,’ a recent article in The Telegraph brought me perilously close to darkening the doors of McDonald’s “Kiwi shoe polish to disappear as UK no longer cares about shiny shoes.” I’ve blogged long and hard about the horrific demise in standards of dress in…

La Bella Figura is back!

When asked by ‘Beyond’ Magazine’s Editor, Mark Bowness, to pass comment on the stylistic path we might tread in 2022, I started my research over breakfast, with a quick shufti on Google and came up with this: According to GQ magazine, we should be wearing, ‘kilts, sleeveless hoodies, baggy shirts and party wear in ultra-shiny…

Black Tuesday

Meghan, Harry and Oprah – like driving past a road accident, I tried not to look, but couldn’t help it. Like the squatting thighs of a constipated grey hound, I shuddered, squirmed, and trembled in agony, as yet again, I watched a member of our Royal family, wash their dirty laundry in public. Perhaps most…

Threads of isolation

As the cold winds of isolation blow over Corona County, for those newly working at home, these are dangerous times. My heart goes out to those poor displaced souls, tucked away in the eves with a laptop, unshaven, the crumbs of yesterday’s KitKat, smeared across their jogging bottoms. One day, you’re a city slicker, the…

Cheers for Chinos

Having just returned from a wonderful break in Runswick Bay on the East coast, I have to admit I’d gone rather feral. Whilst most of my customers assume I relax in velvet smoking jacket, embroidered slippers, silk cravat and fez, my downtime is marked by a far more casual approach to dress. The pleasure of…

Cordially yours.

As this wonderful Summer runs its course, preparations for Autumn & Winter are underfoot at Casa Michelsberg. This weekend, a fresh batch of logs was delivered, and during a family shopping trip to Waitrose, I found myself drawn – like a slavish moth to the fire – towards my amber coloured friends in the spirits section. Now is the…

A vested interest.

Heading out of the Victoria Quarter this month, I was confronted with something that for me, cast a cloud over this sun-soaked Great British Summer. Lads, stripped to the waist, swigging from bottles, a cacophony of “It’s coming home!” delivered from slurring, red faces. Decked out in my panama hat, tan leather briefcase and linen suit, the peaks of several baseball caps swivelled…