Saturday, 27 October 2012

A gentleman's wardrobe: the basics


In which G.M. Norton shares his dismay at today’s sliding sartorial standards and makes a list of the basic items befitting a gentleman. 


It’s safe to say that sartorial standards have well and truly plummeted in recent years with many forfeiting chap for chav. One only has to step outside their front door to be met by people with a complete disregard for sartorial sense. Even the local food emporium is no longer a safe haven from crimes against clothes.


Saturday, 20 October 2012

My hair through the ages

In which G.M. Norton examines the history of a classic men's hairstyle. 
 
Fear not, dear reader – this post will not be a pictorial insight into some of my more embarrassing hairstyles. Although it might be of note to reveal previous incarnations include an ill-advised purple dye monstrosity, a blonde stripe running down the middle of my head reminiscent of a skunk and shoulder length hair that was less Beau Brummell, more Sally Gunnell.

Since embarking on the path signposted for ‘Gentleman’, I have upgraded my hairstyle so it is tapered at the back, tight on the sides with a sharp part on the right. 

Your favourite protagonist

Saturday, 13 October 2012

Style icon: Sir Roger Moore

In which G.M. Norton shows his appreciation for a living legend and style icon.


Dashing, suave, handsome, funny, charming. You could be forgiven for thinking I am being terribly egotistical and these superlatives are to describe myself. But alas, no. This is merely an attempt to highlight the focus of this week’s posting – Sir Roger Moore. 

The infamous eyebrow
From time to time, I will shine the spotlight on my style icons and everybody’s favourite eyebrow raising gentleman has the dubious honour of being my first.


Saturday, 6 October 2012

The vinyl bug – once bitten, forever smitten

In which G.M. Norton sets the record straight as he leads you along the path of musical righteousness.

 

Incredible as it may seem, there are people growing up who don’t have the foggiest idea what a vinyl record is. Luckily, my formative years were spent listening to my parents’ vinyl records with the sound of The Beatles filling the family home.

Not to be confused with the Spinning Jenny