Dandy Dad’s dose of reality

At the end of summer last year, a few weeks before my daughter was born (and with a particularly hubristic flourish) I wrote an article in the Guardian stating categorically that I wouldn’t trade in my life as an urban peacock to suddenly become ‘dadcore’, along with its comfortable and practical accoutrements like selvedge jeans, hoodies, trainers and (heaven forbid) baby harnesses. Well, six months down the line, and a week after being forced to throw away my favourite pair of Crockett and Jones loafers after getting green (yes it was racing green) baby shit on them, I have to hold my hands up and say I was wrong. I was SO wrong. ...

The Dandy Dad Manifesto (Part 1)

I’m in a bit of a bind. Although I’m overjoyed at the news that I’ll be a father for the first time next month, my inner fashionista is frankly terrified. You see, I’m a bit of an urban exhibitionist. In fact, I own more pairs of shoes than my wife, and I consider my inclusion on the Hackney Hipster Hate blog a badge of honour. ...