Now, this theme really is getting ridiculous. This was D’s find and not mine, however, and I shall just have to make sure that he and I do not co-ordinate in our new horsey-set foxhunting outfits. Red waistcoat (Dunn & Co), £5 from the Brighton Marina market last week. I have told D that he is forbidden to wear it in combination with anything tweedy, as that would be plain frightening.
And should this more accurately be described as hunting pink? My, the English upper classes are funny with their keep-the-barbarians-at-the-gate linguistic codes. I seem to remember, from my pony books, that besides red being ‘pink’, hounds are not ‘dogs’, and social death and general ridicule ensued if one made that mistake. How you flush out the non-U pretenders and maintain the status quo. Well, one way, at least.
Given that half of Brighton’s arts/fashion students, indie guitarists and ageing hipsters (check) are striding around town in waxed jackets, tweeds and corduroys, I have come up with a new phrase. We’ve heard about the Hoxton Farmers: now, down here at the seaside, we have the Hanover Hunters. (The other half are in ’80s retro. But where do we go from here? What the hell comes next?).