IF you think you’ve seen the pose above before, then you are right.
Kays catalogue circa 1986.
I was always struck by some of the nonchalant stances struck by models for the glossy chunky tome that used to drop onto the doormat twice a year.
And I’m not talking about the women’s lingerie section.
No, the way the male models within its pages could carry off a powder blue blouson and slacks was quite inspiring.
So when tailor extraordinaire James Michelsberg asked me to pose for a photograph wearing the new jacket he has created for me, I knew exactly what to do.
Although he said that I shouldn’t unbutton my shirt to the navel and pout as that might be too much for some readers.
It’s their loss.
Regular readers (yes, that’s you sir) may remember that I reported on my last visit to Michelsberg Towers in the Victoria Quarter over the summer.
It was accompanied by a photo of James and I with the distinctive cloth he had helped secure from historic Yorkshire mill Marling & Evans.
You will be impressed that I bought enough material to enable me to socially distance comfortably.
One reader thought he was being smart by saying he didn’t know James was making me a set of curtains.
The jacket, in a blue check with a subtle orange over-check, turned out better than I could have hoped.
In a wool and linen mix it will truly be something I can wear all year round with a tweedy look and feel without the weight of this traditional winter country cloth.
The Marling & Evans mill has been making cloth in Slaithwaite near Huddersfield since 1782 and I was delighted to discover that the cloth I chose was named “Slawit” – which is what locals and those that know it call the village.
I once did work experience for five weeks with the local Tory MP for Colne Valley, Graham Riddick, working mainly out of his constituency office in Slaithwaite, so I have fond memories of the place.
Since restrictions were tightened in Leeds last week, I just wish I had more places to go wearing my new jacket.
But I suppose it gives me more time to perfect my catalogue poses.
I wasn’t a runner up in the C&A Man of the Year 1988 for nothing.
:::
IT is a good job I know how to keep my feet on the ground.
On a couple of occasions recently I could easily have let things go to my head.
Chris Allen, the managing partner of Leeds law firm Blacks, tweeted a video message about his recent series of podcast interviews.
He mentioned how they have featured former professional footballers Brian Deane and John Hendrie, Yorkshire cricket coach Andrew Gale and Leeds City Council Chief executive Tom Riordan.
Following this illustrious roll call of names, he paused and said: “David Parkin…Leeds celebrity.”
Now did he say that because I am a celebrity…or he couldn’t think of what else to describe me as?
And then this week I was leaving a coffee shop when I saw entrepreneur and man-about-town and Leeds United superfan Michael Michaelson.
We exchanged waves and he shouted over: “Keep writing the blogs, I love them. But you could be a bit more critical of the Government.”
He introduced me to the business contact he was meeting and waxed lyrical to her about my blogs before throwing his arms above his head and bowing deeply as I left the cafe.
A woman entering the establishment saw what happened and said to me: “Was that man bowing to you?”
“No, he’d lost a contact lens,” I said quickly before shuffling out of the shop.
Well I don’t like a fuss.
:::
WHEN asked about Donald Trump’s approach to this week’s first Presidential debate with rival Joe Biden, one American political commentator gave this pithy assessment:
“Never play chess with a pigeon. It will knock all the pieces over and then strut around like it has won.”
:::
MICHAEL Taylor, the former editorial director of regional business magazine group Insider and now head of regional affairs at Manchester Metropolitan University, sent a nice compliment about how much he enjoyed last week’s blog.
I quoted the son of former Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn, who, when asked about the antics of his wayward uncle Piers, answered: “Every family has a Piers.”
I said I was pleased to say that after a good look I was pleased to say my family doesn’t have one.
To which Michael responded: “Every family has a Piers. And if you think yours hasn’t, then it’s probably you.”
Well sorry Michael, you are wrong.
I’m the most normal person I know.
Ptang, bong, mip, ding dong.
I think I better go for a lie down.
Have a great weekend.