Pringles, Psychobilly and pre-casual Pompey.

Some more great old school pics from my south coast connection. An array of labels and looks from rude boy, early casual, psychobilly and post-modern, from as early as '81 and only as late as '83.

One Night in Turin.

I've just tackled (geddit?) James Erskine's superb documentary One Night in Turin, I genuinley think this is one of the best things I've seen all year. I'm not necessarily bogged down with World Cup fever as I type, as much as I'd love to see us do something special this time, it just doesn't feel the same, I dare say every aspect of our current squad of mercenaries and our overseas manager seem a stark contrast from what I've just watched, but that's another argument for another time, as in the current state my love affair with football is going through a trial separation. Pph.

I wasn't around in '66, and the trendy one of '78 also passed me by, Italia 90 was the pivotal World Cup for me, the best one yet, I remember that long hot summer really rather well, as a football fan it was the beginning of my favourite era, my club were about to embark on the greatest of decades, four Wembley visits, excitement, legends, Bergara, Francis, too many to mention, promotions, many highs and not many lows, but major heartaches, terraces, tantrums, rivalries Stoke, Burnley, Bradford, handbags the lot, as a young football fan I lived and breathed it. That year was quite a memorable one for me personally, things at home were not the best, my father went potty and was duly sectioned, peace and quiet was restored for the time being, watching at home with friends and family and my Grandad who was taken from us prematurely just two years later, but that's my own sob story, you don't need to read that.

I can remember it all, the music, having an older brother who was regularly going to a certain Manchester club, The Mondays, The Farm all blurting out as it happened, I seem to recall everyone was wearing those James t-shirts, or was that a bit later? if it wasn't them it was definitely those rather lairy England shellsuits as worn by the squad, they were everywhere, most kids my age had jekyll ones, Umbro's diamond logo was in fact a square on these ones, and as this ran from the shoulder to the cuff, and the hip to the ankle if you wore the full suit, it wasn't exactly subtle, whoever churned those out must have done a roaring trade.

The country wasn't at it's best under a shite, old fashioned Tory government, a once proud nation on it's arse, crap hospitals, crap schools, crap polluted beaches, crap ailing industries, and we even had crap fucking food that might send you mad. The streets of London had seen the Poll Tax Riots followed shortly after by similar scenes albeit in a more subdued setting in HMP Strangeways. English football clubs were still banned from European action, the press and media were doing their best to destroy their own nations' World Cup hopes, led by the late, great Sir Bobby Robson, a man of the people, a true legend, a real character who's desire to succeed made you truly believe in him. This documentary is by and large about him, and of course Paul Gascoigne, of course it's about England's superb journey, the bitter ending, the emotion, joy and disappointment, the hooliganism, the controversy, the genuine, humbling tale of how England's band of merry men transformed the soured reputation of the beautiful game in just six weeks. The stars - Maradona, Matthäus and Milla, the heroes - Lineker, Gazza and Platt, and the villains - sports minister Colin Moynihan, the gutter press, those fucking Germans and their bastard penalties. Full of heroic brilliance, great footage, both familiar and unseen, archive and reconstructed. Narrated by the always excellent Gary Oldman, you only get his voice, yet he's still great value for money, sound tracked by The Charlatans, The Roses, The Mondays, Inspiral Carpets, The Farm and New Order, not forgetting Pavarotti.

Tinged with tragedy, there's a real bittersweet moment in there when Robson confronts the tearful Gazza, telling him he's got loads more to look forward too, tragically this was his finest hour. There's England's inevitable exit, you know what's coming, yet you'll still feel nervous watching, it all comes back as Nessun Dorma plays over the top, emotional viewing as the nations underachievers who left as 'donkeys' over achieved and returned as heroes, fittingly the Farm's ace anthem Altogether Now plays us out.

One Night in Turin.

Garbstore.

From A/W 09, The Garbstore About Ship jacket is another recent addition, I know it's boiling outside (not now but, you know what I mean) maybe that's why I got it for a large chunk less than it's £245 RRP. I like this, it's got nice little details, as Garbstore's garbs usually do. I'm going to wear it when the weather dips and pretend to be Billy Buddusky.

Proper Magazine.

Proper Magazine Issue 9 is now available to buy online.

Features: Norse Projects, Bags of Flavor, Son of a Stag, Superdenim, Arc'teryx, Rambling, Sixeightsevensix, Author David Nolan, Cosmic Disco. Loads more.

G-1000

Fjällräven is a cool brand, as an old school outdoor brand it's right up there, a Scandinavian classic. As an enforced 'casual' brand I'd had enough of it, which unfortunately that's what it became for a couple of years over here. I first saw this brand when a certain Manchester boutique opened their doors in 2002, I bought a cap in the height of winter, it was pretty much a new label to the masses, aside from genuine outdoor enthusiasts who had probably been wearing it for years previously. I'd dare say The Arctic Fox folk may not have opened a store in the Big Apple if it wasn't for the scope they got from Oi Polloi.
I watched this brand go from what was pretty much a nice underground label to being absolutely everywhere overnight. In truth, that was probably over the course of a couple of years, from one stockist and a badly kept secret, to now being stocked all over the place, which you can totally understand from a sales point of view. I met up with one of their main UK distributors in his chalet showroom and he put on a good show for the prospective buyers we accompanied. Being stocked in high end boutiques and low end sports stores had a bearing on the brand and unfortunately it was soon on the backs of loads of people, with one or two models becoming the must have coat for the young match going 'yoof', due to being easily obtainable and relatively cheap, from a selfish point of view, that wasn't a good look, time to move on. I like the style of Fjäll, they don't really tinker about, their back to basic attitude suits and the classics stay as they are and have since they were first released, the Greenland jacket and Kanken rucksack being a fine example of that. Why change a good formula? I recently acquired a Greenland again about five years after I last bought one, and unlike last time, I decided to give this one a good going over with the Greenland Wax.
Fjäll spotting - a Greenland a snip at £21.50 in this old brochure from 1979.

Fjäll spotting : check out the Kanken rucksack from 2:28 as these Swedish ramblers take on fascism in Växjö in 1985.

Madras.

For all those budding pilothouse preps out there, I recently touched for this vintage madras Eddie Bauer plaid yachting smock, it's pretty darn funky, but I like it. I'd wear it all day, but I'm not convinced it fits, decisions, decisions.

Merckx.

You may have spotted from time to time my wheels, but I realise I've been a little rude up to this point, so let me introduce you to 'Eddy', my racing bike is simply a runaround, it gets me from A to B and sometimes even as far as C a lot quicker than walking. I sometimes even ride on the pavement and don't claim to know anything about the technicalities of this shit, it just looks cool. I realise cycling is currently dead trendy, but that was just a happy coincidence on my part. This was one of the first road bike's I saw for sale that wasn't one of the many 'pick up only' auctions, most of which were in places further than I even thought existed, the real southern-most sticking out pointy bits on the map.

This model was, I believe produced in the early 70s by British company Falcon, but were totally endorsed - signature included! by the man himself, nowadays Eddy Merckx is behind some real top end bikes. When I got this it wasn't in the best of shape, so became a bit of a labour of love for me, and one which I intend to pursue even more, as another new obsession begins, I hadn't realised you can dress up a bicycle as much as you can dress up yourself. I added drop bars as they had been replaced with shit ones, then I added new Schwalbe puncture resistant tyres, then proper original compatible Formos silver alloy brake levers, well I didn't, I bought them and paid pro's to do that. The next thing was a saddle, one which would have cost more than I paid for the bike itself had I not cast my beady eyes out and about. Compatible with the rather nice saddle - a Brooks B66, 'classically sprung with double rails for supreme comfort', in production since 1927, I got some perforated leather bar tape, basically it's all Brooks'd up to fuck, and I guess the pictures look better than these words.

Dennis Hopper.

1936 - 2010

E=MC²

Ritual ideas relativety. Only buildings no people prophecy. Timeslide place to hide nudge reality. Foresight minds wide magic imagery.

Native Craftworks.

Native Craftworks is a new one to look out for, an independent English company doing their own thing. Shoes are designed in England and handmade in Portugal, by craftsmen using traditional techniques, learnt and developed over a lifetime. The proper way. With materials sourced exclusively and made only with true care, skill and attention to detail. Very limited and exclusive shoes. Shortly available in OP

Yesterdays hikers, today...

As it's already pretty obvious I'm sure, I have an unhealthy obsession with vintage outerwear, well here's a little selection of the stuff when it was actually brand new. Two different brands' offerings just one year apart from 1976 and '77 respectively. There's just something ever lastingly cool about a deep green cagoule, or a bright orange smock with drawstrings and deep pockets, it might not float everyone else's but it certainly floats my boat. I'll not reveal my source just yet, you'll have to guess on that front...