I'll subscribe to that. I quite regularly think 'nice socks (or shoes/jacket)'.I don't think I often stand back and take in someone's entire outfit. Often if it's ALL obviously expensive, or exclusive, it looks a bit overthought. Affected. Like a model who's not entirely comfortable.

I quite like the style of that guy that does 'Permanent Style', but there's something about him that looks like he's frightened of walking through a puddle, or brushing against dirty railings.

I suppose there's the question of what qualifies as 'stand out' and 'unremarkable'? No good wearing £50 socks with Primark jeans and an Asda T shirt.

The footwear is often key, isn't it?  (The famous John Simons quick glance at the feet).  Get it wrong with the shoes/desert boots/chukka boots/sneakers and everything else will be wrong, too.

I think Spendthrift, if you had walked through the doors of the Ivy Shop circa 86/87 you would've checked out Strachan.

Probably one of the coolest guys I've ever met. Effortless is all I'd say.

Not sure what's happened to John Lally, I don't think he's put in an appearance in Chiltern St, he was always at Russell St. His wife was a very sick woman, mental health issues unfortunately.

Not a fan of Crompers (Permanent Style).

Last edited by Runninggeez (2022-05-03 07:55:43)

Lally news - he is thankfully still with us, and in decent form according to my Ivy Informant. He always loved the pub, and a good natter, so the return to socialising post-lockdown has no doubt helped him along. I have no wardrobe news on him, but I find it hard to imagine he has stopped caring. He was a clothes nut, with great taste. Regarding his socks I have memories of an argyle in colder months, and definitely sockless in the summer. He was a big penny loafer man. Had a nice pair of brown scotchgrain Weejuns which have to be ultimate in classy loafer footwear. Strachan - contact has not been possible, so there is no news of him, and a smidgen of alarm as to his current state of being. Strachan is very much one of the 'Original Ivy Saints', and another proper old soak who liked the boozer. I suddenly remember the class antagonism I saw in Lally and Strachan - both working class state school chaps who served many of the chinless public school tossers of Richmond Hill their Timberlands through gritted teeth.

And yes - the beard. Lally was helping out in Chiltern Street, doing repairs, which he was very skilled at. I had a shaggy outgrown beard, about 2 weeks worth, and I was quite proud if it, thinking it gave me an intellectual, dashing air. He shook his head "not your look John, you're clean cut. If you're going to wear a beard, keep it trimmed and neat". Suitably admonished by another of the Original Ivy Saints I went home and shaved the bloody thing off.

Last edited by Tworussellstreet (2022-05-04 05:44:08)

I seem to recall that Ian had an accident whilst working in his garden some years ago.  The last time I had a conversation with Johnny Simons, ten years ago this summer, Ian's name cropped up and he said he'd suggested he - Ian - move back to London.  Ian wasn't having any of it and so I'd guess remains hidden away in his rural retreat (where JFM was in the habit of ringing him and picking his brains: quite successfully). 
Funny, but I never imagined Ian as especially class-conscious: certainly not in the way I can be.  Mind you, I just hate the entire class system from top to bottom.  My late, jazz-adoring father was full of odd paradoxes, being a Conservative who was an excellent trade unionist and no fan of the monarchy.  My stepfather, on the other hand, is a staunch Labour man who will doubtless be hanging out the bunting for this jubilee business.  I will be listening to Blossom Dearie, as I do most days.
End of ramble.

^ I agree.  It would be nice to see it done well.  A shop appeared in Derby about a dozen or so years ago, selling Hartford, Penfield, Sunspel, Edwin etc. with a copy of 'Take Ivy' proudly on display. 
They had never heard of John Simons and couldn't care less.  I did not pay a second visit.

(One bonus: a rather attractive nurse gave my hand a little squeeze.  When you reach my age these things mean a lot!).

All too true.  No-one would have the knowledge, the suss, the attitude, the pedigree.