30 December 2011

Admiral Cod On Tour: San Diego

fin de siècle

28 December 2011

Huntsman House Check

Premonition (David Sylvian & Holger Czukay)

27 December 2011

Dispassion

"The special trait making me an Anarch is that I live in a world which I ultimately do not take seriously. This increases my freedom; I serve as a temporary volunteer."

Ernst Jünger, Eumeswil (1977)

Hugo en Afrique (Official Trailer)

26 December 2011

Elephant Polo Helmets

25 December 2011

Merry Christmas 2011


23 December 2011

Cocktail Time

22 December 2011

Kill Your TV !

21 December 2011

The Hobbit (Official Trailer)

French Para

20 December 2011

On mens sana in corpore sano

Recent successes at the office and in the bedroom have encouraged me to approach the training regimen with renewed dedication. To prepare for the impending conflicts, I follow a strict cardio and weight-training programme at least five mornings a week. Physical training is not only important for fitness, but also for looking good.

You might be surprised to learn I have also signed up for 'Spinning' class. It surprised me, too, as it wasn't my choice. Spinning, as you know, is sort of like cycling in place; it works the lower and upper body. Participants are encouraged to move around in unison, as if dancing atop their machine. At this stage I am more concerned with completing the session in one piece than with executing the correct dance moves. And anyway, I find most modern dance vulgar. It never ceases to interest me that the highest art form (Music) should inevitably be accompanied by the lowest (Dance).

The sight of a dozen tight female behinds bobbing up and down in front of me would, under different circumstances, provoke in me thoughts of a most roguish nature. But, again, my mind is focused on more existential matters. I simply want to survive, at least until the end of class. After three Spinning sessions I feel as if my bulging, muscular thighs have been whipped by hot chains and my backside violated by a spiked cricket bat. Not good. But, as they say, what doesn't kill me only makes me stronger. And so it shall.

The renewed focus on fitness extends to diet. As you know, I follow a Paleo-like diet consisting of meat, eggs, green vegetables, nuts, and lots of tea. Supplemented, of course, by wine, whisky, gin, and occasional cheeseburgers. I avoid fast food. If you insist on asking me to eat a carton of Chicken McNuggets, I'll punch you in the face. I haven't had a Coke or Pepsi since the early 1990s, and no carbonated soft drinks of any kind for over 10 years. I lack a sweet tooth. In fact I detest candy. I view sugar, carbs, processed foods, and baked goods the same way I view American society: empty, destructive, useless, devoid of value.

And there's the connection. The revolt against modernity involves not only right-thinking, but also right-living. The lies I woke up to in my 20s were the lies concerning women, race, judaics, history, economics, etc., that the liberal-totalitarian Establishment shoves down our throat. But awakening also forces a reappraisal of one's manner of living, and, if need be, a general rejection of modern American consumer culture in all of its manifestations. And that includes adopting the right fitness training regimen and diet. Don't be afraid to become who you are. Live your resistance.

Sporting Attire

19 December 2011

Bar Riche

Norman Hilton: Wool Hopsack Blazer

18 December 2011

Mont Saint-Michel

16 December 2011

Russian Gulag Tattoos

14

14 December 2011

Sherlock Holmes: Fierce Energy

'My own complete happiness, and the home-centred interests which rise up around the man who first finds himself master of his own establishment, were sufficient to absorb all my attention, while Holmes, who loathed every form of society with his whole Bohemian soul, remained in our lodgings in Baker Street, buried among his old books, and alternating from week to week between cocaine and ambition, the drowsiness [sic] of the drug, and the fierce energy of his own keen nature.'

"A Scandal in Bohemia", Arthur Conan Doyle (1891)

Not Yet Kameraden !

Steampunk !

After a morning of intense weight-training, I picked her up to attend a local museum to view a Victorian art show and Steampunk exhibition. It was her idea. The Victorian art was sublime, as always, and included a prized Burne-Jones piece and several hunting scenes. The Steampunk show was another matter. Steampunk, as Wikipedia defines it:

'...is a sub-genre of science fiction, fantasy, alternate history, and speculative fiction that came into prominence during the 1980s and early 1990s. Steampunk involves a setting where steam power is still widely used—usually Victorian era Britain or "Wild West"-era United States—that incorporates elements of either science fiction or fantasy. Works of steampunk often feature anachronistic technology or futuristic innovations as Victorians may have envisioned them, based on a Victorian perspective on fashion, culture, architectural style, art, etc. This technology includes such fictional machines as those found in the works of H. G. Wells and Jules Verne...'

So there you have it. Most of the artifacts and clothing involve configurations of leather, metal, and imagined sci-fi contraptions. Steampunk, while on the surface rather silly, is precisely the sort of sub-culture or alternative community our people must construct as a balwark against the State-sponsored popular culture. My particular favourite was the Jules Verne exhibit, featuring the novel 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and a model of the submarine Nautilus, with which I was fascinated as a small child. Captain Nemo was an early inspiration.

Afterwards we stopped by the German Club for a late lunch.

Spearfishing Bahamas

13 December 2011

Made In Germany (Rammstein)

12 December 2011

Oysters Tsarina

There was a time not too long ago, as you know, when I enjoyed oysters and champagne almost every evening. A couple of bottles of Veuve Clicquot and two dozen raw oysters on the half-shell with bank colleagues after work. It is only recently that I revived the practice, though on a slightly different scale. I read an interview with Barry Humphries in the FT over the weekend in which he mentions a dish called Oysters Tsarina (excerpt below). I am unfamiliar with it, but it sounds très delish. If you have the precise recipe, please do pass it along.

'He talks about an interview he did many years ago with a newspaper at the Savoy Hotel. “I could order whatever I wanted. So I ordered Oysters Tsarina. Oysters that you dip in sour cream, chopped onions and caviar. You slurp those down. And the chef came out, quite an elderly man, and he said, “I just wanted to say you’re the first person to have ordered Oysters Tsarina since von Ribbentrop.” He beams at this outrageous association with the Nazi foreign minister. Humphries is a connoisseur of provocation.'

'Lunch with the FT: Barry Humphries', Financial Times, 9 December 2011

Living Dangerously (Ranulph Fiennes)

'First published in 1987, this book takes Ranulph Fiennes from his South African boyhood and army career to the series of breathtaking expeditions which have justly earned him the title of "the world's greatest living explorer". Since then, however, his determination to seek new challenges and, more importantly, to conquer them has led him to attempt to reach the North Pole without dogs or motorized equipment, to find the lost city of Ubar, hidden in the Arabian desert, and most recently, his extraordinary journey across the Antarctic to the South Pole. Writing with honesty and good humour, Ranulph Fiennes gives us a taste of the excitement, the hardship, the vital teamwork and the sheer courage that is the life of the modern explorer. He is an English hero in the classic mould - a man of whom it can be said that he has been everywhere and done everything.'

09 December 2011

Viyella Sensation

City Gent

Links 2 3 4 (Rammstein)

08 December 2011

la lutte est le destin

07 December 2011

Gun Room

Arches

06 December 2011

Mein Land (Rammstein)


05 December 2011

Tweed Suitery

04 December 2011

Fortnum & Mason Christmas Hamper

There was a piece in The Daily Telegraph on that great holiday tradition, the Christmas hamper. Here is an excerpt:

"For a great many people, a Fortnum’s hamper represents the very epitome of a traditional Christmas, or at least as dreamt up by Dickens – himself a loyal Fortnum’s customer.

And in truth, could there be anything more thrillingly festive than the first sighting of a distinctive F&M logo’ed wicker basket sitting plumply on a doorstep (hopefully your own)? Nestling inside is the flavoursome promise of gastronomic fare fit for a king, or a caliph.

With the coming of the Romantic Movement, the vogue for eating outdoors and enjoying the countryside led to the popularity of Fortnum’s hampers. As The Season became established, the well-to-do were sustained at the Eton-Harrow cricket match at Lord’s, Henley Royal Regatta, Ascot and so forth by jugged hare and truffles.

Hampers, or rather tea chests, were also dispatched to officers fighting the Naopleonic Wars, and in the 1850s, Queen Victoria ordered the store to send Florence Nightingale an enormous consignment of concentrated beef tea for the wounded in the Crimea.

“Earl Haig requested bespoke hampers, designed like panniers, to straddle a camel and, of course, Fortnum’s obliged,” says Tanner. “There was a dedicated officers’ supply department, set up in 1914 to provide food parcels for the Western Front, Gallipoli, Russia and North Africa. Winston Churchill complained bitterly by letter when his wife Clemmie sent him upmarket provisions because what he really desperately wanted was a hot-water bottle.”

It was after the Great War that Christmas hampers really took off as fewer people were inclined to make their own Christmas cakes and puddings."

03 December 2011

Club Look

Mensur

01 December 2011

English Defence League

Rural detachment

The English Gentleman: National Colours

30 November 2011

Young Fogey Rising

The rapid decomposition of society leaves one feeling at times a bit adrift. Brideshead Revisited viewing parties only go so far in alleviating the rage. These days the only people I see carrying around a teddy bear in public are children and vagrants. It's time to face the impending immolations with the same determination of our ancestors. Brute force and violence are required. If you don't get it, then get out of the way. It's time to reclaim our heritage, including its cultural and sartorial forms. The Scotsman of all things recently took note of the growing presence of the Young Fogey. Perhaps he isn't so much an effect of the economic crisis, as an antidote to the anti-White poison of the MultiKult? Young Fogey as explicit English identity. I like to think I'm contributing to his resurgence. But even if I'm not, I shall claim otherwise anyway. Here's an excerpt:

There’s a new mood in menswear, and sartorially-minded chaps keen to tap into it need look no further for a fashion role model than their own grandfathers.

Which is exactly what Robbie Williams has done in launching his own clothing line; Farrell, both named for and inspired by his grandpa Jack Farrell, a collection of flat caps, pea coats, cosy cardigans, herringbone textiles and fedoras that pay homage to an elderly man but are firmly aimed at the 18-40 lad about town: the young fogey.

The key elements of the young fogey look – ties, tweed sports jackets, waistcoats, elbow patches, cords, braces and brogues – more usually associated with a certain generation of geography teachers and betting shop stalwarts, are somewhat paradoxically looking rather fresh these days, after nigh-on three decades of trainers, jeans and sweatshirts making up the average young man’s weekend wardrobe.

Traditional items that even a few years ago would have seemed at odds with men’s style anywhere but a sheltered housing complex are now the epitome of it. Leading proponents of the geriatric look include 30-something presenters Rick Edwards and George Lamb (whose foxy silvery locks complement the look perfectly), nu-folk old-timer-dressers Mumford & Sons, and even the positively embryonic One Direction, whose signature layered look of blazers, ties and sensible knitwear saw chat show host Alan Carr compare their action figures to university lecturers.

Topman’s latest collaboration is with Harris Tweed, and while even a few years ago this would have been remarkable, it now seems the natural fit for both brands. The former’s new stand-alone concept store in the heart of Shoreditch (stomping ground of the fashionable London fogey, or codger in local terms), which they have named The General Store, is done up like a gentleman’s outfitters from days gone by – all vintage fittings, battered floorboards and artfully distressed display units.

© 2011 Johnston Publishing Ltd

Corsair Slip-Ons

"My Britain is fuck-all now"

29 November 2011

Sloane Rangers: Peter Jones

As you know, when I was much younger I shopped at Peter Jones in Sloane Square. In fact one of my first serious girlfriends would take us there most weekends. I could have sworn Laura Ashley goods were on her shopping list, but I am told Peter Jones did not sell LA. Oh well, my memory must be shot. Later on I became a regular for shirts, ties, and suits. The 134-year old department store has now been refurbished. The Daily Telegraph recently covered the introduction of the 'new' Peter Jones:

Peter Jones straddles Britain's swankiest fault line, where Belgravia meets Chelsea. Diana, Princess of Wales shopped here, as does - claim the regulars I spoke to recently - Prince Harry and his newish sister-in-law. According to Tony Wheeler, the department store's managing director, 40 per cent of its clientele lives within walking distance. Which - given this neighbourhood's affluence - explains why it is the strongest financial performer of all John Lewis stores. As well as being local, Peter Jones customers are loyal: from their first pair of prep-school shoes onwards, they shop here for life.

Last night, many of those customers were invited to a party thrown to celebrate the end of a 10-year, £100 million refurbishment. David Cameron donated one of his Prime Ministerial fountain pens for a charity auction, and a choir - from a local, Peter Jones-shod prep school - was due to provide the music. The final flourish of this spruce-up took place in the menswear department, which now boasts trendy Danish furniture in the changing rooms and a strong, Sloane-friendly collection of Ralph Lauren, Gant, Hackett, Tommy Hilfiger, Thomas Pink and Mayfair Richard James suits. To mark the occasion, the store has produced a special collection dedicated to its core customers, those fountain-paddling Sloane Rangers. It includes a red-white-and-blue trimmed Barbour, a paisley lined wax Cro'Jack jacket, Eton shirts, a Chelsea boot by Grenson and even - rather suspiciously - a "heritage Sloane Ranger eye-mask".

When Peter York and Ann Barr wrote their Sloane Ranger handbook, these items and their contemporary equivalents comprised a highly evolved localised dress code that quickly set apart the U from the non-U. For men, the key Sloane Ranger kit included a tweed jacket, "worn in all situations, particularly with jeans"; the covert coat, "a vital garment because only Sloanes wear it"; and a green, oiled Barbour that "smells of dogs". By wearing these garments, Sloanes could recognise their own kind, and never fall into conversation with ideologically suspect Hampstead intellectuals.

© Copyright of Telegraph Media Group Limited 2010

28 November 2011

Harris Tweed

From the publisher:

'Harris Tweed is a unique woolen textile hand-woven by generations of islanders in the Outer Hebrides off the west coast of Scotland. Worn worldwide, and much used by fashion designers including Vivienne Westwood and Paul Smith, it is increasingly cherished, both for the garments made from it and as a fascinating traditional craft.

This book is a group portrait of the craftsmen who work with Harris Tweed, from the Hebrides to London's Saville Row. The author will interview and photograph farmers, mill workers, weavers, tailors, and designers, and will also consider their landscape and context. Several tailors on Saville Row, including Henry Poole, Norton & Sons and Huntsman, have welcomed the publication, and will allow the author full access to photograph and interview their staff.

Primarily for those who love to wear Harris Tweed and want to know more about its provenance, the book will also tap into a growing interest in traditional crafts. It will appeal to an audience from the design and fashion industries along with students of fashion, design and textiles.'

Inside Jack Wills

27 November 2011

les chevaliers teutoniques

Yamato !

archéofuturiste !

25 November 2011

Jeremy Hackett

24 November 2011

Chalk Stripe Splendour

The Germans Who Never Lost

Cough Syrup (Young the Giant)

23 November 2011

A Shirt of English Viyella

Purdey...A Short Film

22 November 2011

Tartan Tuesday

Girl Panic! (Duran Duran)

20 November 2011

Chevaliers