Forget all that sixties headband and flares shit
I was watching Dangerous Liasons last night and spent as much time nodding at the clothes as taking in the superb interplay between Glenn Close and John Malkovich.
I could do without the powdered wigs and buckle boots, but those embroidered jackets that take three manservants ten minutes to fit you out in look incredible, and the idea of roaming around with a casual sword on your hip appeals to the penis-compensating side of my nature. And I mean I would literally wear it around town if it wasn’t the case that you can’t get away with with it without looking like you’ve succumbed to a feverish lunacy, but I think I could have made quite the dandy given half the chance. Instead here I am in my shellsuit and Frankie Say Relax baseball cap.