Doc martens, size nine, red with yellow stitching, cleaning them & thinking, had these for ten years & they will probably see me out.
Certain clothes, shoes, coats & others leave me cold, dead in the water.

As a student I had a thing for suits, could buy a suit for ten or twenty pounds from a jewish tailor in brighton, they were probably dead mens suits but I loved ‘em, he loved me, would see me coming & with that practiced eye would select a few in my size.
Try this, this & this he’d say & see me looking for the good lining: silk with bright colour, pattern and most importantly, not smelling. We’d work out a price & off I’d go back to my noodles, rice & poor lentil living. A good suit would see me right for a term or two.

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