Adolf, by Smith

Ash fashionised me in Paris.
I have cleared out my wardrobe.
Seven bin bags full of crap.
Six bin bags full of clothes to take to the charity shops.
That’s probably letting it get a bit too far isn’t it?
I’m a boy though.
We’re not known for our pro-activeness when it comes to clothes.
I have a new pair of trainers that don’t actually fit very well.
But they cost me £50, so they’re going to get worn.
Even if it makes my feet look like crow’s feet.
I had not been in my wardrobe for about five years.
It is now looking like a grown up’s wardrobe.
I feel like a real person.
I have a beautiful new cardigan from Zara.
£90 it cost.
It is hard not to get slightly fashionised when you’re in the fashion capital of the World, with a girlfriend who adores fashion.
Everyone just looks amazing in Paris.
Actually, there are two extremes in Paris…..
Amazing, and definitely a sex offender.
Ash knows every bag on the shoulder of every girl that walks past.
It makes me want to fall down to the floor and grab my head in pain, crying, when she tells me the girl who just walked past is holding a £15,000 bag.
On our last day in Paris we found a shopping mall.
It was an up market shopping mall.
I saw a plain white man shirt, for £900.
I cannot possibly comprehend that.
It is just a plain white man shirt.
Unless it doubles as a car and a speed boat, I will not be paying that much for a shirt.
It inspired me to create my own label.
“Smith” it’d be called.
I came up with four fragrances.
Molestation, by Smith.
Nonce, by Smith.
Faeces, by Smith.
Adolf, by Smith.
The TV adverts would involve Naomi Campbell running through a darkened Paris, searching through candlelight for a man.
He would be played by Johnny Depp.
They’d say something in French.
Faces would be close together, as they embraced.
Then a whispering voice would say “Faeces, by Smith”.
I think it’s perfect.
Ash took me into Primark yesterday.
I told her it was worse than genocide.
She bought things.
Two things for about 20p.
For 50p, she could have bought most of the shop.
God bless child labour in third World countries.
Today, I am going to dress well and criticise others for not matching.
I will also smell of “Faeces”.
Perfect.