Wednesday, 29 October 2008
Treated Royally At Cordings
I watched a bit of the BBC series, British Style Genius, last night and it was most gratifying to see a feature about Cordings and its saviour-cum-proprietor, Mr Eric Clapton.
I almost always pay a visit to Cordings, in Piccadilly, London, when I am in the metropolis. It is such a lovely, old-fashioned little shop with its thick, pile carpeting, wooden panelling and paintings. It is undoubtedly one of my favourite shops in London.
Downstairs, in the basement, there is an Aladdin's cave full of Tattersall shirts; thick, corduroy trousers; tweed, country jackets and much more. I must possess about six of their shirts and two pairs of the cord trousers.
It is surprising that they're not by royal appointment; they used to be, in the early twentieth century. Long may they last!
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I use to have an office in Great Newport Street, and I use to love drinking in the Porcupine Public House.
I came from Ballymacarrett, and I always saw it as a bit of a betrayal, the proper shops going under, regiments being erased, as an Irishman,
I felt sad, that 'the brand' of the English, was on the out.
The BBC had a presenter who revealed on-air, recently, that he had relations with a young lady, quite shocking,
I mean is it any wonder that tailors are going to the wall for a lack of gentlemen to cater for?
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