Exciting times; it’s my first proper stab at Fashion Week since starting this blog! Typically, I’m on childminder duty this weekend, so can only manage to get to a handful of shows; the reality of being a dandy dad I suppose? Anyway, over the next few days, I’ll endeavour to update you on whatever weird and wonderful clothes and people I manage to see on my limited travels.
Harry’s of London is a high end men’s footwear and accessories brand (their satin calf derby shoes retail at an eye watering £475), so why not start as you mean to go on? Their Autumn/Winter 2017 showcase was at The Vaults in the RSA, just off The Strand. From what I could gather, the theme appeared to be the journey of a playboy through three different stages of his day (the pool room, the bedroom and the racetrack) with relevant shoes and bags placed around each room. Not sure why the rooms were in that particular order; perhaps the drive was post coital, with the top down and mother-of-pearl cigarette holder clenched between the teeth?
This was where the more formal shoes lived. Some particularly nice whole cut loafers, double monks, kilty single monks, green desert boots and a beautiful pair of patent leather dress shoes; ideal for gliding across the Ritz ballroom floor, circa 1929.
The journey to the bedroom took me past some information about the fancy Technogel innersole that Harrys use in all their footwear, plus their very naughty suede chinchilla shoe called Mr Jones. No I certainly don’t approve of using real fur and yes, it was the softest thing I’ve ever held in my hands. Retails at £1095, which means my morals will never be tested anyway.
Judging by the contents of this room, our guy plays guitar, enjoys time with his punchbag, owns a Vintage Rolling Stones pinball machine and also has copies of gay and straight porn magazines lying around his bed; what a character! The highlights, apart from said pinball machine, were the loafers that doubled as slippers (the heel on the upper is soft and durable enough to fold down) and some particularly nice luggage, including a 24HR bag named Chesham; I guess because a day is the longest that anybody would want to stay there.
Two things I couldn’t be less bothered about are cars and trainers. This last room housed what looked like an oversized Scalextric track, with shoes appearing to be racing around it – very daft. They also had two rather embarrassed looking male models dressed as mechanics, which although a indeed novelty, was also deeply silly; welcome to Fashion Week! One pair of beautiful white pumps did stand out though, they were like an upscale pair of Jack Purcells – preppy as you like but with a waffle-like twist. Yummy.
One day, when I grow up, I’ll be able to buy something from Harry’s of London. Until then, so long fictitious bisexual playboy, and thanks for all the buck’s fizz.