On film: The Ladykillers

In which G.M. Norton comes over all Barry Norman and waxes lyrical about one of his favourite films.

When I look back at my childhood, some of my happiest memories are curling up on a rainy day, staring up at the idiot’s lantern and watching a film.

Laurel and Hardy featured quite prominently and in later years, I was introduced to the Carry Ons, Alfred Hitchcock masterpieces and James Bond. Ealing comedies were also a favourite of the Norton household, especially The Ladykillers.

Long live the Kings Arms Vintage Fair

In which G.M. Norton visits a local tavern, but rather unexpectedly, without the intention to get utterly blotto. 

As a fellow who enjoys a refreshing libation from time to time, when I was invited to sample the delights of a vintage fair held in a local drinking tavern, I didn't need much persuading.  

Organised by the lovely Paula Duffy off of Mint Vintage, the Kings Arms Vintage Fair is a monthly affair, which first sprung to life in May of this year. 

With stallholders offering a range of clothing, homeware and collectables, it is a super little way to spend a few hours. 

Blood, bandages and barber poles - the gruesome history of barbers

In which G.M. Norton frequents a new hair establishment and delves into the bloody history of the barber pole.

When I discovered that a new barbers was opening in Manchester specialising in rockabilly and traditional cuts and shaves, I must confess that it rather caught my attention.

Barber Barber as it is called is run by Johnny Shanahan, or Johnny The BaBa as he prefers to be known. Since becoming a patron this week, the ‘BaBa House’ is now my new favourite haunt.

Working alongside Johnny are three other splendid chaps, Steve, Ben and Mav.

Cup of champions

In which G.M. Norton takes ownership of a specially crafted drinking vessel.

If one was to describe your favourite protagonist in a single sentence, it would probably be as follows:

A moustache-wearing, tea drinking lefty.

Now I am not hinting at my political preferences with the term ‘lefty’, I am merely proudly stating that I am left-handed, or southpaw if you are a fan of American rounders.

With these three nuggets of information, it brings me on to the subject of this week’s periodical posting. That of a recently launched company, by the name of My Moustache Cup.

Eagle-eyed readers may have already spotted a little advert on this very periodical in support of this most splendid of drinking vessel manufacturers.

Style icon: Patrick Grant

In which G.M. Norton inducts a bearded chap into his Style Icon hall of fame.

From time to time, I like to shock you, my dear thing. Not only does this entry contain facial hair of the chin, but it also celebrates a stylish man of today that is still in the prime of his life.

Have I gone stark raving bonkers? No, not yet (although I think we are agreed that it is only a matter of time). Ladies and gentlemen, I give you my latest Style Icon inductee, Mr. Patrick Grant.

All Hallows' Eve Ghost Tour at Ordsall Hall

In which G.M. Norton shares a tale of derring-do.

Last week I nobly agreed to accompany a group of fair maidens on a little ghost tour around a haunted Tudor manor house.

Certain that mortal danger was involved, it was with some trepidation one Thursday evening that I steered my motorcar through the grand gates of Ordsall Hall in Salford. 

And the winner is...

In which G.M. Norton sees his periodical crowned the best vintage blog in Manchester.

Well gentle reader, I cannot lie. I am afraid that I need to confess behaviour that is unbefitting of a gentleman – I arrived late for the Vintage Manchester awards ceremony where I was a finalist in the Best Vintage Lifestyle Blog category. And not just by a few paltry minutes, it was by a good thirty of the things.

I will not bore you with the reason for my poor punctuality but needless to say, it involved a fateful wrong turn, being trapped amongst a throng of football supporters, a thirty mile dash and an unofficial world record attempt to change into full evening garb.

A week in the life of a gentleman

In which G.M. Norton offers a tantalising glimpse into the week of an aspiring English gentleman.

I will place my cards on the table, dear readers. The last seven days have not been what one would call 'a typical week' for your favourite protagonist. In fact, it has been a week of surprises and new experiences in many ways. If I may be so bold, I would like to run you through each day (no need to actually exert yourself, your horrified expression at the prospect of more than a light jog has been duly noted).

Sunday 

Ah, good old Sunday. The day when Britain collectively sits around the dinner table and devours a veritable feast of the finest roast beef in the land, mountains of roast potatoes, a few vegetables to add a dash of colour and lashings of gravy goodness. I'm sorry, is that your stomach I can hear rumbling? 

Mr. Eccles Cake

In which G.M. Norton portrays James Birch, the original Eccles Cake purveyor from the 18^th century.

Today I have not quite been myself. I have been Mr. James Birch instead – the person first credited with selling Eccles Cakes almost 200 years ago from his premises on the corner of Vicarage Road and Church Street.

To explain my temporary change in identity, I must explain that for the past week it has been the Eccles Cake Festival.

Another dalliance with His Vintage Life

In which G.M. Norton strikes a pose (and any oncoming ruffians).

Following my moustache feature in the inaugural edition of His Vintage Life magazine, much to my delight, the editorial team asked me to write a little something for the second issue.

Available now from selected establishments of Messrs W.H. & Smith, this time my second three-page article concerns the gentlemanly form of self-defence, Bartitsu.