The first thing I do in a morning is flick through my phone, bleary eyed but with the renewed vigour that can only come from a cool 5 hours restful shuteye.
While scrolling past the racist ex-schoolmates and needy single mums (“CBA anymore/UOK Hun?x) I happen across the odd nugget of sartorial relief. This morning it was Supreme AW16 (or fall, as they call it in America, and countries that pretend they’re American even though they’re not). I swiped through the images and summed up each garment in my head via the witty soundbites with which we’ve come to reluctantly be associated. Then I thought “Might work as an article, this”.
Me and Neil sat down with all the Diet Coke we could drink, a mid-afternoon devil-may-care attitude and Pet Shop Boys blaring in the background. Here’s what we made of it all. We’ve left some for you to sum up.
Mark: Lime green? Slime green, more like. If I was him, I’d wear it but I’m not. Nor am I a Ninja Turtle from La Haine.
Mark: This is great, but my powerful 5’10 frame has had too many McFlurries for it to be right for me. Reminds me of when Dan Ackroyd puts on that pimp’s clothes left behind in Ophelia’s wardrobe. Then she gets her knockers out.
Mark: Pure Ashton market steez. If you don’t understand this reference, it’s a gritty Northern one, because we’re gritty and Northern.
Mark: Ideal for running around the playground playing kiss kat. And if you fall in a puddle, those tea towel kecks will ensure maximum mopping up.
Mark: Playing card-igan.
Mark: Going fishing for girls. In a river called love.
Mark: Buy or sell any tickets.
Mark: Disenfranchised Parisian taxi driver.
Mark: What make’s this?
Mark: Kurt Cobain x Oscar the Grouch.
Neil: *meets Glenn Kitson once*
Mark: Eeeyar he’s going in his pocket, he’s got a blade. He’s got a fucking blade. Oh. Oh hang on, it’s not. It’s a crunchie.
Neil: Wu-Tang Nan
Neil: Has anyone seen where I put all those hankies I was collecting for the Guide dogs?
Neil: Yeah sorry we don’t sell honey here because the boss says it’s tight on bees.
Mark: Juventus away innit?
Neil: Pro-nipple censorship steez
Neil: I’ve come out with my towel still on my head again haven’t I?
Mark: Ill eagle attacks. Or summat.