Dear Rowley,
In tearing haste, I am furiously packing for Pitti Immagine Uomo’s summer season men’s fashion shows in Florence. Better Half and I fly out tomorrow and are quite frankly viewing the event as a holiday from London. I’ve got a Rake report to file and a daily blog for The Breaks not to mention my letters to you. But we’ve also got a deal to stay up in the hills outside Florence at one of the Medici villas on Friday and Saturday. Cannot wait to lounge by the pool in my Ralph Lauren pink linen shorts with a very, very, very large Negroni in my paw.
Weren’t you thrilled by the news today that Britain has finally heeded the Sherwood rules of dressing appropriately for formal occasions? Yes, Cheltenham Ladies College has published sartorial rules to assure their pupils dress appropriately. Skirts have to be on the knee, jackets have to be buttoned and stockings should never be allowed to fall beneath the line of decency. It’s always the way Rowley: education, education, education. One expects bad form in Soho nightclubs and Berkshire race meetings but what can you do?
I had a lovely London holiday today preparing for Pitti. First up was a fitting for a new suit at my Soho tailor Sir Tom Baker. He’s making me a divine black and silver boucle ‘Northern Line’ two piece comprising dinner jacket and waistcoat. May the Gods be praised, I fit Sir Tom’s ready-to-wear block so also came home with a blue duchess satin DJ to wear at Pitti parties this week. Sweat is always a problem in Florence in high summer when all the boys are in heat. I solve this by going for the Upper East Side lesbian look of hairy chest under a waistcoat with baggy pants, a fitted jacket and knackered old loafers. Hold that thought…