From South Ken to Shoreditch, from Jermyn Street to Mare Street – these days anyone that’s anyone is wearing red trousers.

If you want your leg-coverings to let the world know that you’ve got a few quid and don’t care who knows it, or that you have some big ideas about what’s on at the ICA right now - or simply that you are completely insane (but in a mainly non-stabby way) - then you’d better get your wife or girlfriend to take those jeans and chinos down to the charity shop post-haste!

Because there’s only one type of trousers you’ll be wanting to wear, and that’s RED TROUSERS. In fact - if you can’t wear red trousers you’d be better off wearing NO TROUSERS AT ALL. That’s what I say.

Wednesday, 22 June 2011

A delicate red

Many thanks to Mr Strange (his real name) for this self-portrait, who explains that "red trousers are pretty much required uniform for the wine-trade".


  1. I know this Strange chap and his strange strides. His prose is as colourful as his wardrobe: check out The Elitist Review to read his diatribes and encomia on wine and other topics...

  2. Who could have left this comment, I wonder? Just for completeness, it's

    I also have a pair of pink cords with ducks embroidered on them and I've just got some rather spiffy orange horizontal cords. I'm all yours, ladies!