#Swaine Adeney Brigg

[obeyfeline]

More items for sale around teh internets

Another in my series of Cromulent Tips, where at no commercial benefit to myself I bring to your attention cool stuff for sale. My book Swan Songs: Souvenirs of Paris Elegance is available through the link in my bio. 

Gilbert Feruch insane RTW paisley sportcoat

Feruch was one of the leading new wave Parisian tailors of the 1960s and 1970s. It always surprises me when ready-to-wear that the Groupe des Cinq tailors licensed to American stores crops up. I guess French designers and tailors had a moment in the 1970s. Get a load of this insane pattern. https://www.ebay.com/itm/125478575635

She wore an Arrrrrrrrnyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyys beret, the kind you can only get at a secondhand store... because Berluti killed everything interesting about them. https://www.ebay.com/itm/334569559760

Arnys cashmere overcoat. ’nuff said

https://www.ebay.com/itm/403893016999

Very 1970s Sulka tracksuit...  with slight crotch damage

https://www.ebay.com/itm/255713158468

Gucci Cavalier King Charles Spaniel Leather Jacket. Wear it to the coronation of King Charles III I guess

https://www.ebay.com/itm/274571241182

Excellent price on Tiffany onyx on gold cufflinks

https://www.ebay.com/itm/204092741254

Sulka 1977 Queen’s Silver Jubilee Commemorative Tie 

Created for the 25th anniversary of the coronation of the late Queen Elizabeth II.

https://www.ebay.com/itm/275445275332

#Cromulent tips #Feruch #GIlbert Feruch #Groupe des Cinq #groupe des 5 #Paris tailor #Mr Sid #Arnys #Arnys Paris #swansongsrjdm #Swan Songs: Souvenirs of Paris Elegance #cran necker #cran tailleur #cran parisien #Loro Piana #Sulka #Gucci #Tiffany #Swaine Adeney Brigg

[phelanspharmacy]

Pure Walking Sticks Handmade Walking Sticks

Across Ireland people are trying to find services and products from Irish companies to keep their cash local. If you are a local enterprise in Ireland and 'Order Online', 'Click & Collect', 'Delivery', 'Book Online', are ways your business zimmer frame sells then getlocal.ie is for you. Getlocal.ie is developed in Ireland to assist Irish consumers and retailers join offering a greater way to store. This white walking stick is made with aluminium so is light-weight yet durable.

During her sixty 4 yr reign the Queen and her household granted greater than 2000 Royal Warrants, eight occasions as many because the Queens uncle George IV. A likelihood discovery gave rise to a West Country walking-stick firm that – with its emphasis on craftsmanship – goes places. Observation As the primary quarter of 2015 draws to a detailed, Monocle editor in chief Tyler Brûlé appears aids for walking again over occasions thus far. Then it’s time to gear up for the remainder of a jam-packed 12 months; conferences, cafés, metropolis guides and a comprehensively refreshed radio schedule simply begins to cowl it. Moveable feast Defying geography is a theme this month with Nordic style in Milan, a US espresso store opening in Tokyo and gin distilled in Berlin.

If it is a mobility assistance gadget then sure, it get preferential treatment as far as accommodation onto the plane additionally it is not going to be counted as a bit walking canes of hand carry allowance if applicable... During the late 18th Century, Royal tradesmen begandisplaying the Royal Arms on their premises and stationery. Queen Victoria ensured Royal Warrants gained the prestige they enjoy to-day.

A walking stick gifted by revolutionary Michael Collins to a barman who didn't “daub” him into the British authorities more than a hundred years in the past is to go beneath the auctioneer’s gavel. All £ prices include gross sales tax of 20.00% for shoppers inside the UK or NI. An “M” signifies the item is sold under walking aids the margin scheme for collector’s items so no VAT is due, except to shoppers inside NI. All costs displayed are exclusive of sales taxes, although the US States under may be required to pay sales tax on their order following the Wayfair ruling; these will be calculated at checkout.

My capability to walk with anywhere near a normal gait was hampered by my Hereditary Spastic Paraplegia. This led to a walking speed of lower than 1km/hr and an elevated risk of stumbling, tripping and falling. The copy came walking sticks ireland to mild lately in a country home within the west of Ireland, the place presumably it was introduced by Charles O’Conor on a go to to his ancestral homeland.

Back residence in London, help was at hand from Swaine 7 Adeney, the 2 firms joined forces mid-war in February 1943 to kind Swaine Adeney Brigg & Sons Limited. Their store became well known for the provision of equestrian items that walking sticks are nonetheless made to-day. Technology is the one biggest enabler of people with sight loss. We only carry what we think about to be the easiest products for people with sight loss.

Under no circumstances does the Auctioneer accept any legal responsibility in any respect for any loss or damage howsoever occasioned in the center of such service. The world's main specialists within the distribution of art, cultural and historical photographs and photographs for replica. With 50 years experience offering pictures from essentially walking sticks cork the most prestigious museums, collections and artists. Handcoloured copperplate engraving from “” The Naturalist's Pocket Magazine,”” Harrison, London, 1800. Millions of unique items are added to The Saleroom annually from seven hundred professional public sale homes worldwide. Parkrun has had a really optimistic effect on my power ranges, confidence, fitness, friendships, eating and sleeping habits.

#walkingsticks

[thetweedpig]

KINGSMAN - PINSTRIPE ROARS BACK 

http://bit.ly/2heNpv5

#Conway Stewart #Corgi Socks #Corgi Hosiery #Cuttler and Gross #Deakin and Francis #Dormeuil #Drakes #George Cleverley #Kingsman #Mackintosh #Orlebar Brown #Smythson #Swaine Adeney Brigg #Turnbull and Asser #William Halstead #Savile Clifford #The Tweed Pig #The Golden Circle

[putthison]

The Lightest, Easiest Bag Possible: A Folio

I love a good bag, but as my work has become more and more digital over the years, I find myself reaching for a folio more than anything else. Something just big enough to hold a laptop and its accompanying charger. Or maybe an iPad and a small book. In today’s world, where everything is electronic, I rarely find myself carrying much else. 

There are lots of advantages to folios. For one, they’re easier to manage than a traditional briefcase. If you’re running through the city, climbing in and out of cabs, it’s easier to reach your belongings when you don’t have to fumble through a bunch of clasps or buckles. Plus, unlike a backpack, a folio doesn’t have any straps that could ruin the shoulder line of a tailored jacket. 

The downside, of course, is that they don’t carry very much (by design). But who carries more than a couple of electronics nowadays? Lunch gets eaten on the go and I’m not health-conscious enough to carry around a water bottle. Plus, traditional bags can be heavy, which means I only break them out when I have to. Take it from the Japanese, who are often pictured with folios under their arms. If you’re walking around town all day, you’d be happy to not have to carry five or more pounds of luggage. 

Some options:

For a relatively affordable folio, browse Etsy. I had this seller make me a zip case last year out of kilim fabric (a traditional and colorful Turkish textile). She can make cases to any size, and lightly pad the interior for some cushioning, although her zippers are a bit basic. Still, you can hardly complain for $20 (seriously, they’re that cheap). I also like Byrd & Belle and HarLex, if you’re looking for something made out of felt or leather. 

For something a little nicer, but still equally casual, check La Portegna and Berg & Berg. Both offer simple cases made out of buttery veg-tanned leathers. Anyone who’s handled such leathers know, they scratch easily, but the scratches can also be easily rubbed out. Over time, you’ll find the light marks result in a handsome, well-earned patina. There’s also Postalco and Carga, although I find La Portegna and Berg & Berg’s magnetic closures easier to use. 

For something a little dressier, I like Frank Clegg Leatherworks. Theirs are as close as you can get to a briefcase -- good enough for corporate meetings, while still being lightweight and easy to manage. Tärnsjö Garveri also makes really nice tri-fold cases out of sturdy bridle leathers. The leather covered buckles give them a contemporary look. Similarly, Sterling & Burke, Swaine Adeney Brigg, Ben Silver, and Simpson have bridle leather cases that feel more traditional. 

The cream of the crop for me is Ortus and Chester Mox. Both offer completely hand stitched leather cases, made using a technique known as saddle stitching (the same technique Hermes uses to make their leather goods). The constructions are as nice as I’ve seen anywhere, and both producers can make bespoke cases, giving you the option of almost any material and/ or color you could want. Ortus does have a year-long waitlist, although The Armoury carries one navy case ready-made. Chester Mox is more readily available (and considerably more affordable). You can see the folio Chester Mox made for me here. 

There are dozens, if not hundreds, of other options -- see RRL, JW Hulme, and McRostie (which, incidentally, would be my battle MC name if I had one). Mr. Porter, SSENSE, Need Supply, and The Loit are also worth a look if you want some designer pieces. One of my favorite folios is from Margiela (now unfortunately sold out). 

#Folios #Bags #Accessories #Etsy #La Portegna #Berg & Berg #Postalco #Carga #Frank Clegg Leatherworks #Tarnsjo Garveri #Sterling & Burke #Swaine Adeney Brigg #Ben Silver #Simpson London #Ortus #Chester Mox #The Armoury #RRL #JW Hulme #McRostie #Mr. Porter #SSENSE #Need Supply #The Loit #Maison Margiela

[permanentstyle]

https://www.permanentstyle.com/2017/03/robb-report-the-beauty-of-bags-and-japanese-artisans.html

Robb Report: The beauty of bags, and Japanese artisans

#anglofilo #marquess #pecora ginza #sartoria ciccio #swaine adeney brigg #yohei fukuda #yuki shirahama

[goneahead]

Winter Solstice, Camelot Station

~~John M. Ford

Camelot is served By a sixteen-track stub terminal done in High Gothick Style, The tracks covered by a single great barrel-vaulted glass roof framed upon iron, At once looking back to the Romans and ahead to the Brunels. Beneath its rotunda, just to the left of the ticket windows, Is a mosaic floor depicting the Round Table (Where all knights, regardless of their station of origin Or class of accommodation, are equal), And around it murals of knightly deeds in action (Slaying dragons, righting wrongs, rescuing maidens tied to the tracks). It is the only terminal, other than Gare d'Avalon in Paris, To be hung with original tapestries, And its lavatories rival those at the Great Gate of Kiev Central. During a peak season such as this, some eighty trains a day pass through, Five times the frequency at the old Londinium Terminus, Ten times the number the Druid towermen knew. (The Official Court Christmas Card this year displays A crisp black-and-white Charles Clegg photograph from the King's own collection. Showing a woad-blued hogger at the throttle of "Old XCVII," The Fast Mail overnight to Eboracum. Those were the days.) The first of a line of wagons have arrived, Spilling footmen and pages in Court livery, And old thick Kay, stepping down from his Range Rover, Tricked out in a bush coat from Swaine, Adeney, Brigg, Leaning on his shooting stick as he marshalls his company, Instructing the youngest how to behave in the station, To help mature women that they may encounter, Report pickpockets, gather up litter, And of course no true Knight of the Table Round (even in training) Would do a station porter out of Christmas tips. He checks his list of arrival times, then his watch (A moon-phase Breguet, gift from Merlin): The seneschal is a practical man, who knows trains do run late, And a stolid one, who sees no reason to be glad about it. He dispatches pages to posts at the tracks, Doling out pennies for platform tickets, Then walks past the station buffet with a dyspeptic snort, Goes into the bar, checks the time again, orders a pint. The patrons half turn--it's the fella from Camelot, innit? And Kay chuckles soft to himself, and the Court buys a round. He's barely halfway when a page tumbles in, Seems the knights are arriving, on time after all, So he tips the glass back (people stare as he guzzles), Then plonks it down hard with five quid for the barman, And strides for the doorway (half Falstaff, half Hotspur) To summon his liveried army of lads.

* * *

Bors arrives behind steam, riding the cab of a heavy Mikado. He shakes the driver's hand, swings down from the footplate, And is like a locomotive himself, his breath clouding white, Dark oil sheen on his black iron mail, Sword on his hip swinging like siderods at speed. He stamps back to the baggage car, slams mailed fist on steel door With a clang like jousters colliding. The handler opens up and goes to rouse another knight. Old Pellinore has been dozing with his back against a crate, A cubical, chain-bound thing with FRAGILE tags and air holes, BEAST says the label, QUESTING, 1 the bill of lading. The porters look doubtful but ease the thing down. It grumbles. It shifts. Someone shouts, and they drop it. It cracks like an egg. There is nothing within. Elayne embraces Bors on the platform, a pelican on a rock, Silently they watch as Pelly shifts the splinters, Supposing aloud that Gutman and Cairo have swindled him.

A high-drivered engine in Northern Lines green Draws in with a string of side-corridor coaches, All honey-toned wood with stained glass on their windows. Gareth steps down from a compartment, then Gaheris and Aggravaine, All warmly tucked up in Orkney sweaters; Gawaine comes after in Shetland tweed. Their Gladstones and steamers are neatly arranged, With never a worry--their Mum does the packing. A redcap brings forth a curious bundle, a rude shape in red paper-- The boys did that one themselves, you see, and how does one wrap a unicorn's head? They bustle down the platform, past a chap all in green. He hasn't the look of a trainman, but only Gawaine turns to look at his eyes, And sees written there Sir, I shall speak with you later.

Over on the first track, surrounded by reporters, All glossy dark iron and brass-bound mystery, The Direct-Orient Express, ferried in from Calais and Points East. Palomides appears. Smelling of patchouli and Russian leather, Dripping Soubranie ash on his astrakhan collar, Worry darkening his dark face, though his damascene armor shows no tarnish, He pushes past the press like a broad-hulled icebreaker. Flashbulbs pop. Heads turn. There's a woman in Chanel black, A glint of diamonds, liquid movements, liquid eyes. The newshawks converge, but suddenly there appears A sharp young man in a crisp blue suit From the Compagnie Internationale des Wagons-Lits, That elegant, comfortable, decorous, close-mouthed firm; He's good at his job, and they get not so much as a snapshot. Tomorrow's editions will ask who she was, and whom with...

Now here's a silver train, stainless steel, Vista-Domed, White-lighted grails on the engine (running no extra sections) The Logres Limited, extra fare, extra fine, (Stops on signal at Carbonek to receive passengers only). She glides to a Timkin-borne halt (even her grease is clean), Galahad already on the steps, flashing that winning smile, Breeze mussing his golden hair, but not his Armani tailoring, Just the sort of man you'd want finding your chalice. He signs an autograph, he strikes a pose. Someone says, loudly, "Gal! Who serves the Grail?" He looks--no one he knows--and there's a silence, A space in which he shifts like sun on water; Look quick and you may see a different knight, A knight who knows that meanings can be lies, That things are done not knowing why they're done, That bearings fail, and stainless steel corrodes. A whistle blows. Snow shifts on the glass shed roof. That knight is gone. This one remaining tosses his briefcase to one of Kay's pages, And, golden, silken, careless, exits left.

Behind the carsheds, on the business-car track, alongside the private varnish Of dukes and smallholders, Persian potentates and Cathay princes (James J. Hill is here, invited to bid on a tunnel through the Pennines), Waits a sleek car in royal blue, ex-B&O, its trucks and fittings chromed, A black-gloved hand gripping its silver platform rail; Mordred and his car are both upholstered in blue velvet and black leather. He prefers to fly, but the weather was against it. His DC-9, with its video system and Quotron and waterbed, sits grounded at Gatwick. The premature lines in his face are a map of a hostile country, The redness in his eyes a reminder that hollyberries are poison. He goes inside to put on a look acceptable for Christmas Court; As he slams the door it rattles like strafing jets.

Outside the Station proper, in the snow, On a through track that's used for milk and mail, A wheezing saddle-tanker stops for breath; A way-freight mixed, eight freight cars and caboose, Two great ugly men on the back platform, talking with a third on the ballast. One, the conductor, parcels out the last of the coffee; They drink. A joke about grails. They laugh. When it's gone, the trainman pretends to kick the big hobo off, But the farewell hug spoils the act. Now two men stand on the dirty snow, The conductor waves a lantern and the train grinds on. The ugly men start walking, the new arrival behind, Singing "Wenceslas" off-key till the other says stop. There are two horses waiting for them. Rather plain horses, Considering. The men mount up. By the roundhouse they pause, And look at the locos, the water, the sand, and the coal, The look for a long time at the turntable, Until the one who is King says "It all seemed so simple, once," And the best knight in the world says "It is. We make it hard." They ride on, toward Camelot by the service road.

The sun is winter-low. Kay's caravan is rolling. He may not run a railroad, but he runs a tight ship; By the time they unload in the Camelot courtyard, The wassail will be hot and the goose will be crackling, Banners snapping from their towers, fir logs on the fire, drawbridge down, And all that sackbut and psaltery stuff. Blanchefleur is taking the children caroling tonight, Percivale will lose to Merlin at chess, The young knights will dally and the damsels dally back, The old knights will play poker at a smaller Table Round. And at the great glass station, motion goes on, The extras, the milk trains, the varnish, the limiteds, The Pindar of Wakefield, the Lady of the Lake, The Broceliande Local, the Fast Flying Briton, The nerves of the kingdom, the lines of exchange, Running to a schedule as the world ought, Ticking like a hot-fired hand-stoked heart, The metal expression of the breaking of boundaries, The boilers that turn raw fire into power, The driving rods that put the power to use, The turning wheels that make all places equal, The knowledge that the train may stop but the line goes on; The train may stop But the line goes on.

#john m ford #goneahead reblog

[princesscatherinemiddleton]

WALK, WALK, FASHION BABY | The Duchess of Cambridge looked event-appropriate in a poppy-print Prada dress for a visit to the White Gardens of Kensington Palace. She teamed her Prada dress with her LK Bennett ‘Fern’ heels and her Monica Vinader ‘Siren’ earrings. She also carried a ‘Brigg’ umbrella from Swaine Adeney Brigg.

#mine #royaltyedit #kate #outfits #day #white garden

[nomanwalksalone]

ON LASTING THINGS

by Réginald-Jérôme de Mans

A great achievement of the classes that rule us is making us love our chains.  I had this (almost certainly not original) thought reading the estimable Bruce Boyer’s recent essay “Dress Up” on the faith-oriented website First Things, and remembered it again as I struggle to restore one of my chains, my badly worn briefcase bought new 16 years ago from the heavily fetishized English whipmaker Swaine Adeney Brigg.

I can say, with all of the ecumenism worthy of a site like First Things, that Boyer is a mensch, perhaps the most respected English-language men’s clothing writer, and has personally become one of the kindest voices about my own writing and attempts to bring my own book to publication.  So “Dress Up” showcases his splendid knowledge of clothing history, enlivened with his usual verve.

“Dress Up”’s thesis is that we have lost a sense of occasion, a socially shared sense of ritual that inspires us as a group to dress better (Freudianly, I just typed “bitter” and then “butter”), and to know how to dress better to appropriately fit the occasion.  Casualization of clothing is a false democratization; an old order of codes is destroyed and a new surfeit of variety bedevils us: would-be #steezinistas lose their way, unsure how to coordinate their clothes given all the different colors, styles, and changing fashion seasons.  In other words, losing the shared sense of occasion means loss of commonality, community, and “humility,” to be replaced by a society that “gives more leeway to the strong than it does support to the weak.”

Change from a supposed settled and calm order that leads to aimlessness, confusion and indulgence.  I can see why this piece was of publishing interest to First Things.  Nostalgia for a time of less, or more repressed, questioning is rampant in many religious outlets today.

Clothing is a social tool, a manner of expression. Dress codes, including and especially those that “Dress Up” mentions like entire stadiums wearing suits to ballgames, are a method of enforcing social order. The idea of wearing nicer clothing as a sign of mutual respect is profoundly bourgeois, one of many incentives to the middle class to conform to this sense of order. Others include modesty (the wearing of suits means wearing far more layers than, say, today’s T-shirt) and the ideal of quality, the lie of longevity that convinced me so long ago that my briefcase, my leather lunch pail as Tom Wolfe snarkily and observantly called it, would really be a lifetime quote investment unquote.

I got pumped and dumped, in both the investment and the Trumpian senses of the terms.

Things do not last, things do not make you you. It’s a lesson I had to learn over time. Like, I suspect, most iGents, my favorite superhero as a little kid was Batman, because he always had the right accessory. With his utility belt and quick thinking, he had the response to every occasion. (Today, it’s probably Green Arrow, Batman as a bleeding heart liberal.) His things made him him. I admit his deep and twisted repression also made him a natural identification for us iGents too.

Unfortunately, the nature of capitalist society is the privilege of the strong at the expense of the weak.  At best, social support is an afterthought. The creation of a sense of occasion to which we must respond and conform means that the few who are not required to do so enjoy and outwardly signal their power.  Power to transgress the norms they have set down, in dress as in other forms of conduct. (That, incidentally, was prep, in all of its worn-down, bizarrely-colored and patterned glory, a reality far from the idealizations of the Internet creeps who idolize it, a set of strange codes to penalize outsiders, strange codes set by an upper-class and upper-middle-class ability to transgress against norms of good taste and restraint that supposedly dictated how everyone dressed 60 years ago.)  

I selected my briefcase in conformity with the old norms of taste: tastefully anonymous, unlogoed, made by hand by Englishmen guaranteed to treat most non-Sloaney visitors to their St. James’s shop like utter garbage, unwieldily heavy brass fittings on thick, thick bridle hide leather that not only had that forelock-tugging equestrian heritage but supposedly would last forever.

As usual, Ferry was right. Nothing lasts forever. The lies to manage us, though, are the Same Old Scene.  Luxury, as always, is what almost none of us can have. In the rosy-tinted past of First Things, it was casualness, freedom from strictures, suits, codes of professionalism.  Today, as Boyer correctly notes, we have been given freedom to be as casual as we wish by our corporate overlords, a false freedom since now what almost none of us can have is peace of mind, personal time, sleep, job and personal security, perhaps even any kind of future – all things those corporate overlords, and their owners, have in various ways taken away through labor-saving devices that make us available around the clock, donations to think tanks to create deregulatory lies, newly charitable contributions to help elect the most venal leaders.  It was not a change in clothes that created this environment, even if my reaction against the false freedom of casualness was to dress as I liked – well, if I daresay – and to embrace my chains, like my briefcase.  

Welcome the freedom to dress as well as you like, to be individual, rather than as a subject of spoken and unspoken codes of dress. And if you believe in community and shared social support, fight for it on your own terms, rather than ingesting the politically conservative pablum too many mouthpieces of organized religion like to serve up.

Quality content, like quality clothing, ages well. This post first appeared on the No Man blog in October 2017.

[pinstripepulpit]

A bit of a panic this week when I opened the dryer to find my trusty Brooks Brothers leather card case amongst the clothes. It had been washed and dried, but was still intact. After a day of air drying I applied two coats of Skidmore’s Leather Cream over the course of a day. Skidmore’s was once recommended to me by a gentleman who had worked for Swaine Adeney Brigg for some years. The card case has recovered nicely, and, barring more traumatic laundering experiences, should survive for years to come. The moral: Buy quality leather goods and they will last. . . #menswear #mensstyle #styleforum #preppy #preppystyle #tradstyle #leathergoods #cardcase #brooksbrothers #skidmores #ivystyle #ivyswagger #bluegrasstrad #sharethelex #lexingtonky #kentucky (at Lexington, Kentucky) https://www.instagram.com/p/B8WsuEjpOXf/?igshid=1nleyp12ib1w5

#menswear #mensstyle #styleforum #preppy #preppystyle #tradstyle #leathergoods #cardcase #brooksbrothers #skidmores #ivystyle #ivyswagger #bluegrasstrad #sharethelex #lexingtonky #kentucky

[obeyfeline]

Cool stuff for sale on teh internets

An occasional service sharing interesting finds and bargains other people are selling. As always, I have no connection to these items unless I specifically state otherwise. Feel free to check out my book Swan Songs: Souvenirs of Paris Elegance (link in bio).

Holliday & Brown hand-tasseled silk scarf

They don’t make the like this anymore. At https://www.ebay.com/itm/284877396839

Sulka crocogator slippers. At https://www.ebay.com/itm/265723650988

14K gold tiger’s eye cabochon links at https://www.ebay.com/itm/283294274561

Lanvin cat tie with Rateau Art Deco design. At https://www.ebay.com/itm/384946104586

H. Lesser Lumb’s Golden Bale suiting cloth at https://www.ebay.com/itm/124161657548

Asprey alligator bookends at https://www.ebay.com/itm/224955205542

Amazonite and gold cufflinks at https://www.ebay.com/itm/394093633948

Swaine Adeney Brigg silk umbrella - super rare! at https://www.ebay.com/itm/125392205268

#Sulka #swansongsrjdm #A Sulka and Company #A. Sulka & Company #made in Italy #hand made in England #made in England #Holliday & Brown #Holliday and Brown #Lanvin #made in France #Rateau #art deco #Armand-Albert Rateau

[lacasuarina]

MAMA IM COMING HOME

12 MAY 2019

1. Borrelli Napoli Black Leather Cafe Racer Jacket

2. Alligator Belt with .925 Sterling Silver Heavy Frog Buckle

3. Saint Laurent Paris Balck Velvet Jacket w/ Musical Notes

4. NIB Louis Vuitton x Supreme “Hugh” Black Leather Scuffs

5. NWT Dior Homme Paris Varsity Jacket

6. Chanel 100% Cashmere Navy Silver Chains Cardigan

7. NWT Roberto Cavalli Teal Alligator Print Man Panties

8. Deadstock Vintage American Optical Gold Pilot Sunglasses Clip Ons

9. Alexandre Plokhov Black Leather Cargo Drop Crotch Pants

10. Swaine Adeney Brigg Black Leather Atache Briefcase

NOW LIVE

#menswear #luxeswap

[ttto-misc]

camelot, john m ford

Camelot is served By a sixteen-track stub terminal done in High Gothick Style, The tracks covered by a single great barrel-vaulted glass roof framed upon iron, At once looking back to the Romans and ahead to the Brunels. Beneath its rotunda, just to the left of the ticket windows, Is a mosaic floor depicting the Round Table (Where all knights, regardless of their station of origin Or class of accommodation, are equal), And around it murals of knightly deeds in action (Slaying dragons, righting wrongs, rescuing maidens tied to the tracks). It is the only terminal, other than Gare d’Avalon in Paris, To be hung with original tapestries, And its lavatories rival those at the Great Gate of Kiev Central. During a peak season such as this, some eighty trains a day pass through, Five times the frequency at the old Londinium Terminus, Ten times the number the Druid towermen knew. (The Official Court Christmas Card this year displays A crisp black-and-white Charles Clegg photograph from the King’s own collection. Showing a woad-blued hogger at the throttle of “Old XCVII,” The Fast Mail overnight to Eboracum. Those were the days.) The first of a line of wagons have arrived, Spilling footmen and pages in Court livery, And old thick Kay, stepping down from his Range Rover, Tricked out in a bush coat from Swaine, Adeney, Brigg, Leaning on his shooting stick as he marshalls his company, Instructing the youngest how to behave in the station, To help mature women that they may encounter, Report pickpockets, gather up litter, And of course no true Knight of the Table Round (even in training) Would do a station porter out of Christmas tips. He checks his list of arrival times, then his watch (A moon-phase Breguet, gift from Merlin): The seneschal is a practical man, who knows trains do run late, And a stolid one, who sees no reason to be glad about it. He dispatches pages to posts at the tracks, Doling out pennies for platform tickets, Then walks past the station buffet with a dyspeptic snort, Goes into the bar, checks the time again, orders a pint. The patrons half turn–it’s the fella from Camelot, innit? And Kay chuckles soft to himself, and the Court buys a round. He’s barely halfway when a page tumbles in, Seems the knights are arriving, on time after all, So he tips the glass back (people stare as he guzzles), Then plonks it down hard with five quid for the barman, And strides for the doorway (half Falstaff, half Hotspur) To summon his liveried army of lads.

* * *

Bors arrives behind steam, riding the cab of a heavy Mikado. He shakes the driver’s hand, swings down from the footplate, And is like a locomotive himself, his breath clouding white, Dark oil sheen on his black iron mail, Sword on his hip swinging like siderods at speed. He stamps back to the baggage car, slams mailed fist on steel door With a clang like jousters colliding. The handler opens up and goes to rouse another knight. Old Pellinore has been dozing with his back against a crate, A cubical, chain-bound thing with FRAGILE tags and air holes, BEAST says the label, QUESTING, 1 the bill of lading. The porters look doubtful but ease the thing down. It grumbles. It shifts. Someone shouts, and they drop it. It cracks like an egg. There is nothing within. Elayne embraces Bors on the platform, a pelican on a rock, Silently they watch as Pelly shifts the splinters, Supposing aloud that Gutman and Cairo have swindled him.

A high-drivered engine in Northern Lines green Draws in with a string of side-corridor coaches, All honey-toned wood with stained glass on their windows. Gareth steps down from a compartment, then Gaheris and Aggravaine, All warmly tucked up in Orkney sweaters; Gawaine comes after in Shetland tweed. Their Gladstones and steamers are neatly arranged, With never a worry–their Mum does the packing. A redcap brings forth a curious bundle, a rude shape in red paper– The boys did that one themselves, you see, and how does one wrap a unicorn’s head? They bustle down the platform, past a chap all in green. He hasn’t the look of a trainman, but only Gawaine turns to look at his eyes, And sees written there Sir, I shall speak with you later.

Over on the first track, surrounded by reporters, All glossy dark iron and brass-bound mystery, The Direct-Orient Express, ferried in from Calais and Points East. Palomides appears. Smelling of patchouli and Russian leather, Dripping Soubranie ash on his astrakhan collar, Worry darkening his dark face, though his damascene armor shows no tarnish, He pushes past the press like a broad-hulled icebreaker. Flashbulbs pop. Heads turn. There’s a woman in Chanel black, A glint of diamonds, liquid movements, liquid eyes. The newshawks converge, but suddenly there appears A sharp young man in a crisp blue suit From the Compagnie Internationale des Wagons-Lits, That elegant, comfortable, decorous, close-mouthed firm; He’s good at his job, and they get not so much as a snapshot. Tomorrow’s editions will ask who she was, and whom with…

Now here’s a silver train, stainless steel, Vista-Domed, White-lighted grails on the engine (running no extra sections) The Logres Limited, extra fare, extra fine, (Stops on signal at Carbonek to receive passengers only). She glides to a Timkin-borne halt (even her grease is clean), Galahad already on the steps, flashing that winning smile, Breeze mussing his golden hair, but not his Armani tailoring, Just the sort of man you’d want finding your chalice. He signs an autograph, he strikes a pose. Someone says, loudly, “Gal! Who serves the Grail?” He looks–no one he knows–and there’s a silence, A space in which he shifts like sun on water; Look quick and you may see a different knight, A knight who knows that meanings can be lies, That things are done not knowing why they’re done, That bearings fail, and stainless steel corrodes. A whistle blows. Snow shifts on the glass shed roof. That knight is gone. This one remaining tosses his briefcase to one of Kay’s pages, And, golden, silken, careless, exits left.

Behind the carsheds, on the business-car track, alongside the private varnish Of dukes and smallholders, Persian potentates and Cathay princes (James J. Hill is here, invited to bid on a tunnel through the Pennines), Waits a sleek car in royal blue, ex-B&O, its trucks and fittings chromed, A black-gloved hand gripping its silver platform rail; Mordred and his car are both upholstered in blue velvet and black leather. He prefers to fly, but the weather was against it. His DC-9, with its video system and Quotron and waterbed, sits grounded at Gatwick. The premature lines in his face are a map of a hostile country, The redness in his eyes a reminder that hollyberries are poison. He goes inside to put on a look acceptable for Christmas Court; As he slams the door it rattles like strafing jets.

Outside the Station proper, in the snow, On a through track that’s used for milk and mail, A wheezing saddle-tanker stops for breath; A way-freight mixed, eight freight cars and caboose, Two great ugly men on the back platform, talking with a third on the ballast. One, the conductor, parcels out the last of the coffee; They drink. A joke about grails. They laugh. When it’s gone, the trainman pretends to kick the big hobo off, But the farewell hug spoils the act. Now two men stand on the dirty snow, The conductor waves a lantern and the train grinds on. The ugly men start walking, the new arrival behind, Singing “Wenceslas” off-key till the other says stop. There are two horses waiting for them. Rather plain horses, Considering. The men mount up. By the roundhouse they pause, And look at the locos, the water, the sand, and the coal, The look for a long time at the turntable, Until the one who is King says “It all seemed so simple, once,” And the best knight in the world says “It is. We make it hard.” They ride on, toward Camelot by the service road.

The sun is winter-low. Kay’s caravan is rolling. He may not run a railroad, but he runs a tight ship; By the time they unload in the Camelot courtyard, The wassail will be hot and the goose will be crackling, Banners snapping from their towers, fir logs on the fire, drawbridge down, And all that sackbut and psaltery stuff. Blanchefleur is taking the children caroling tonight, Percivale will lose to Merlin at chess, The young knights will dally and the damsels dally back, The old knights will play poker at a smaller Table Round. And at the great glass station, motion goes on, The extras, the milk trains, the varnish, the limiteds, The Pindar of Wakefield, the Lady of the Lake, The Broceliande Local, the Fast Flying Briton, The nerves of the kingdom, the lines of exchange, Running to a schedule as the world ought, Ticking like a hot-fired hand-stoked heart, The metal expression of the breaking of boundaries, The boilers that turn raw fire into power, The driving rods that put the power to use, The turning wheels that make all places equal, The knowledge that the train may stop but the line goes on; The train may stop But the line goes on.

[putthison]

eBay Roundup

There’s a lot of great menswear on eBay, but to find the good stuff, you have to search for hours. Which is why we do these roundups, so that our readers can find good deals easily and quickly. For those looking to get an extra round-up each week, subscribe to our Inside Track newsletter. We not only cover the best of eBay, we also list each week’s store sales.

To find more menswear on eBay, try using our customized search links. We’ve made them so you can quickly hone-in on quality suits, excellent dress shirts, fine footwear, good jeans, workwear, contemporary casualwear, nice ties, great bags, and well-made sweaters.

Suits, sport coats, and blazers

Brown linen checked Eidos sport coat, 38

Outerwear

Eidos Carlo wrap coats, various sizes

Red Ten C anorak, 38

Vintage mechanics jacket, S

Olive Crescent Down Works puffer vest, S

Tan Ralph Lauren Purple Label moto jacket, S

Black leather Sandro double rider, L (fits like S?)

Olive channel quilted Rocky Mountain Featherbed vest, 38

Black leather repro Buco double rider, 38 (pictured above)

Chimala olive belted parka, S

Vintage Banana Republic safari jacket, 40

Barbour Tokito Shoreman coat, 40

Tan Engineered Garments parka, 40

Brown corduroy 1st PAT-RN coat, M

Woolrich Woolen Mills tan hunting coat, M

Tan Nigel Cabourn zip parka, 40

WW Chan brown houndstooth topcoat, 40

Brown suede Eidos vest, 40

Navy Engineered Garments CPO shirt jacket, M

Olive wool Engineered Garments belted coat, M

Olive Barbour Ventile parka, 42

Olive waxed cotton Barbour, 42

RRL brown leather cafe racer, XL

Black AMI duffle coat, 44

Navy Barbour Bedale, 46

Sweaters and knits

Charcoal J. Press Shaggy Dog sweater, XS

J. Press shaggy cable knit, S

Navy Albam shawl collar cardigan, S

Gray Engineered Garments belted cardigan, S

Navy Our Legacy terry cloth sweatshirt, 40

Blue Alan Paine cashmere cable knit, M

Gray Acne Studios flecked Donegal sweater, M

Blue cabled Peter Scott sweater, L

Tan Albam ribbed lambswool sweater, XL

Shirts and pants

Various Eidos shirts, various sizes

Chimala washed chambray shirt, L

Some nice Ralph Lauren trousers, various sizes (these are nice if you taper them)

Slim charcoal Samuelsohn trousers, 32 (1, 2)

Gray flannel Ralph Lauren trousers, 33

Shoes

Edward Green tan penny loafers, 7

Bowhill & Elliott suede opera pumps, 7

Charles Tyrwhitt semi brogues, 7

John Lobb cap toe oxfords, 7.5

Crockett & Jones split toe bluchers, 8.5

JM Weston shortwings, 9

Crockett & Jones shell cordovan tassel loafers, 9

RM Williams black Chelsea boots, 9

Crockett & Jones cap toe boots, 9.5

Alfred Sargent walnut grain ankle boots, 10

The Hill-Side green hi tops, 10

Alfred Sargent two tone suede chukkas, 10.5

Tricker’s cap toe bluchers, 11

JM Weston hiking boots, 11.5

Ties

Some nice ties

Various Drake's ties

Navy wool Drake's mini paisley tie

Navy diamond motif E. Marinella tie

EG Cappelli red floral ties

Red floral J. Press tie

Navy self-striped Shibumi tie

Navy cashmere Sozzi knit tie

Textured Tom Ford red tie

Funky 1970s striped Ralph Lauren wool tie

Bags, briefcases, and wallets

Swaine Adeney Brigg Westminster briefcase

Navy Bill Amberg weekend bag

Tan canvas Dunhill bag

Burgundy Visvim backpacks

Black Porter helmet bag

Misc.

Some fancy cufflinks

Black slide buckle Ralph Lauren gator belt, 36

Silk and cashmere Bergdorf Goodman scarf

Kapital big rose motif bandana

Little wooden cow

Toast awards pin?

Uruguay Pigeon Federation pin

Civilian Conservation Corps pin

If you want access to an extra roundup every week, exclusive to members, join Put This On's Inside Track for just five bucks a month.

#eBay Round Up

[harymark]

Umbrella Consumption Market Drivers and Opportunities Analysis | 2020-2025

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Prominent Key Players:

KOBOLD, James Smith & Sons, Hangzhou Paradise Umbrella Group, HongYe, SUSINO Umbrella, Blunt Umbrellas, Swaine Adeney Brigg, Pickett, Francesco Maglia, Fox Umbrellaa

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Adults, Children, Ederly

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#Umbrella Consumption #Umbrella Consumption 2020