Monday, April 9, 2012

Strain of the Hermès stirrup

A recent marker, in the long spiral
of acquisitive affectations of excel-
lence, the exact moment hasn't been 
recorded when we first began to see 
hirelings of the politics industry, 
wearing the distinctive necktie we'd 
been selecting for years. Probably,
the initial crack in the levee came
from a courtier columnist, at a re-
ception of Mrs Graham's. Now every
strutting intern sports the stirrup,
Hogarth's lobbyists supplying whole
stables at the think tanks. 

I don't imagine, our thugs have 
dared to affect the insouciant rain-
coat, the rakish baseball jacket, 
the satiny sellier belts. But that
was the end of the necktie, for most 
of us. And it was fitting, that our
evacuation left these figures ex-
posed as the charlatans of indul-
gence in craftsmanship and design 
that they are in representation and 
probity. I'd love to see the house
imprint a Daumier scarf for them. 

But, look again. We'll always have
our haircut.

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