I came to JS in 1986, a trip to 2 Russell Street on a hot sticky day that blew my mind. The shop was amazing, and the guys working there just great to talk to and be with. John had put together a look, a vibe, that has stayed with me forever. Nothing elsewhere has ever come close. The old Ralph shop on Bond Street was impressive, but cold and intimidating, and a million miles away from the kindness and clubiness of John Simons. The shop dipped in its final years as John's enthusiasm waned, so the new shop on Chiltern Street was a spectacular return to form. It is a delightful shop, and Paul is a sweet and knowledgeable chap, but I miss John and the old crew. 2 Russell Street just had something very special about it. I also spent time working part-time in The Ivy Shop Richmond from 1986 to 1991. This shop still had an aura about it, with big personalities working there and some superb clothes, but its heyday was long gone. I could still sense though why it had been such a special place for Ivyists of earlier generations.

Another thing about the old JS shops is that were not just about clothes. It was a kind of outlook, a way of being. To a provincial boy like me I saw it as very metropolitan, a broader, less aggressive way of carrying yourself. Scousers like to think they know it all, but it's a very macho way of being, very blokey.  Here was a place where you shared a passion for clothes, music, films, art, TV, football, whatever really and it was kind and inclusive. There was a lack of competitiveness. A more gentle way of being if you like, but very clued-in, and knowing, rooted in post-war British culture and, in a hard to define way, something of John's Jewish roots and ways of talking and interacting. For me it was an education in manners. The natural, soft nature of the clothes and the look seemed to dovetail with a sensibility. It's for these reasons I think people have this affection for his shops, and for him as an individual.

Well they made a film about him, so it's not just me being a soppy old git about JS. Many agree with me. I guess Kingy's generation just wanted the sharpest clobber of the day and The Ivy and Squire Shops sold the real deal. It's a different mentality, a different era. I was born in '64 so was piecing together my own version of what this whole look was all about. I can only say that a day in 2 Russell Street in 1986 was a serious education and broadening of horizons.

I have never been in Cadenhead whisky shop a few doors down. My pal dismissed their tastings as basic bottlings but looking online they have quite an interesting offering on 2 February.

There was an ordinary cafe at the Northern end of Chiltern street and the pub round the corner that Jim used to frequent. Other than that it's not really establishments I would frequent.

I am not sure Chiltern Street ever smelt of rotting vegetables like Covent Garden when it was still a market.

The Borough market used to be great when it was a proper market -not just streetfood and upmarket nosh  Decent pubs in a deserted area where you could still get a seat on a Friday night. No retail establishments nearby though.

You could run across the river from Cheapside and have a crafty lunchtime pint and a doorstep sandwich without fear of bumping into colleagues you did not want to see.

Working in Advertising in the Eighties often meant a liquid lunch.

Everyone on a Friday lunchtime would be down the pub.  Lunchtime would only end when your line manager had finished his drink.

The rest of the week you'd be out with clients.

Although we all drank like fishes the work continued in the afternoon and there would be no let-up.

It's funny talking to youngsters now they think that because we drank we didn't work hard. You could often achieve quite a lot through buying someone a pint and having a chat.
There weren't the internal meetings, company days-out and all the internal culture nonsense that permeates so many businesses nowadays. Therefore, the pub created level playing field and a place to learn.