The charity shop confessional

In which G.M. Norton bags a pair of brogues and two ties for less than five English pounds.

If you have followed this periodical of mine with proper care, you will be aware that I am a regular frequenter of the great British charity shop. So when I chanced upon a bargain or three, I naturally wanted to share it with you, dear reader.

Take last Sunday during a quick inspection of the local YMCA shop. This particular beneficiary boutique is fast becoming one of my favourites. It's an extremely large retail space, across one sweeping level. Largely furniture, is also comprises a good selection of books, an assortment of homeware items, and just a rail or two of clothes. Despite the small space dedicated to clothing, over the last few months, I've picked up a couple of super blazers. One of which fits me like the proverbial glove. Indeed, when wearing it for the first time to the office, a lady caught sight of it and remarked that "It's too good for here."

The Gentlemen of Christmas Past, Present and Future

In which G.M. Norton raises his beaker in a reverent toast to a fine selection of festive fellows.

With Christmas almost upon us like an eagle hovering over a startled lamb, I’d like us to raise our collective glasses to toast the gentlemen of Christmas past, present and future.

Christmas past - the Christmas Star and the Three Wise Men

As we all know, Bing Crosby was the Star of Christmas, single-handedly revolutionising the bland Christmas Carol and turning it into something quite pleasing to the discerning ear.

Wit and wisdom from Sir Noël Coward

In which G.M. Norton tips his hat to the second wittiest man of all time.

Playwright, composer, director, actor, singer. Sir Noël Coward was all of these things and so much more. As his chum, Lord Mountbatten, remarked in 1969:

"There are probably greater painters than Noël, greater novelists than Noël, greater librettists, greater composers of music, greater singers, greater dancers, greater comedians, greater tragedians, greater stage producers, greater film directors, greater cabaret artists, greater TV stars. If there are, they are fourteen different people. Only one man combined all fourteen different labels – The Master." 

On film: The Ladykillers

In which G.M. Norton comes over all Barry Norman and waxes lyrical about one of his favourite films.

When I look back at my childhood, some of my happiest memories are curling up on a rainy day, staring up at the idiot’s lantern and watching a film.

Laurel and Hardy featured quite prominently and in later years, I was introduced to the Carry Ons, Alfred Hitchcock masterpieces and James Bond. Ealing comedies were also a favourite of the Norton household, especially The Ladykillers.

Long live the Kings Arms Vintage Fair

In which G.M. Norton visits a local tavern, but rather unexpectedly, without the intention to get utterly blotto. 

As a fellow who enjoys a refreshing libation from time to time, when I was invited to sample the delights of a vintage fair held in a local drinking tavern, I didn't need much persuading.  

Organised by the lovely Paula Duffy off of Mint Vintage, the Kings Arms Vintage Fair is a monthly affair, which first sprung to life in May of this year. 

With stallholders offering a range of clothing, homeware and collectables, it is a super little way to spend a few hours. 

Blood, bandages and barber poles - the gruesome history of barbers

In which G.M. Norton frequents a new hair establishment and delves into the bloody history of the barber pole.

When I discovered that a new barbers was opening in Manchester specialising in rockabilly and traditional cuts and shaves, I must confess that it rather caught my attention.

Barber Barber as it is called is run by Johnny Shanahan, or Johnny The BaBa as he prefers to be known. Since becoming a patron this week, the ‘BaBa House’ is now my new favourite haunt.

Working alongside Johnny are three other splendid chaps, Steve, Ben and Mav.

Cup of champions

In which G.M. Norton takes ownership of a specially crafted drinking vessel.

If one was to describe your favourite protagonist in a single sentence, it would probably be as follows:

A moustache-wearing, tea drinking lefty.

Now I am not hinting at my political preferences with the term ‘lefty’, I am merely proudly stating that I am left-handed, or southpaw if you are a fan of American rounders.

With these three nuggets of information, it brings me on to the subject of this week’s periodical posting. That of a recently launched company, by the name of My Moustache Cup.

Eagle-eyed readers may have already spotted a little advert on this very periodical in support of this most splendid of drinking vessel manufacturers.

Style icon: Patrick Grant

In which G.M. Norton inducts a bearded chap into his Style Icon hall of fame.

From time to time, I like to shock you, my dear thing. Not only does this entry contain facial hair of the chin, but it also celebrates a stylish man of today that is still in the prime of his life.

Have I gone stark raving bonkers? No, not yet (although I think we are agreed that it is only a matter of time). Ladies and gentlemen, I give you my latest Style Icon inductee, Mr. Patrick Grant.

All Hallows' Eve Ghost Tour at Ordsall Hall

In which G.M. Norton shares a tale of derring-do.

Last week I nobly agreed to accompany a group of fair maidens on a little ghost tour around a haunted Tudor manor house.

Certain that mortal danger was involved, it was with some trepidation one Thursday evening that I steered my motorcar through the grand gates of Ordsall Hall in Salford. 

And the winner is...

In which G.M. Norton sees his periodical crowned the best vintage blog in Manchester.

Well gentle reader, I cannot lie. I am afraid that I need to confess behaviour that is unbefitting of a gentleman – I arrived late for the Vintage Manchester awards ceremony where I was a finalist in the Best Vintage Lifestyle Blog category. And not just by a few paltry minutes, it was by a good thirty of the things.

I will not bore you with the reason for my poor punctuality but needless to say, it involved a fateful wrong turn, being trapped amongst a throng of football supporters, a thirty mile dash and an unofficial world record attempt to change into full evening garb.

Despite this timekeeping travesty, my beloved and I arrived at the plush Manchester 235 casino before any of the vintage shenanigans had got underway. I am not so egotistical to think that the whole event was delayed on account of my failure to turn up on time, it was more of a happy coincidence. Lord and Lady Luck must have been smiling down on your favourite protagonist it seems.

Doesn’t my beloved look ravishing with her Bethany Jane Davies-style ‘do and monochrome frock?

All dressed up

A week in the life of a gentleman

In which G.M. Norton offers a tantalising glimpse into the week of an aspiring English gentleman.

I will place my cards on the table, dear readers. The last seven days have not been what one would call 'a typical week' for your favourite protagonist. In fact, it has been a week of surprises and new experiences in many ways. If I may be so bold, I would like to run you through each day (no need to actually exert yourself, your horrified expression at the prospect of more than a light jog has been duly noted).

Sunday 

Ah, good old Sunday. The day when Britain collectively sits around the dinner table and devours a veritable feast of the finest roast beef in the land, mountains of roast potatoes, a few vegetables to add a dash of colour and lashings of gravy goodness. I'm sorry, is that your stomach I can hear rumbling? 

Mr. Eccles Cake

In which G.M. Norton portrays James Birch, the original Eccles Cake purveyor from the 18^th century.

Today I have not quite been myself. I have been Mr. James Birch instead – the person first credited with selling Eccles Cakes almost 200 years ago from his premises on the corner of Vicarage Road and Church Street.

To explain my temporary change in identity, I must explain that for the past week it has been the Eccles Cake Festival.

Another dalliance with His Vintage Life

In which G.M. Norton strikes a pose (and any oncoming ruffians).

Following my moustache feature in the inaugural edition of His Vintage Life magazine, much to my delight, the editorial team asked me to write a little something for the second issue.

Available now from selected establishments of Messrs W.H. & Smith, this time my second three-page article concerns the gentlemanly form of self-defence, Bartitsu.

Smouldering Sirens: Dita Von Teese

In which G.M. Norton gets his monocle steamed up by the Queen of Burlesque.

Welcome to the third instalment of the ‘Smouldering sirens’ series run here at Norton of Morton, where I grant admittance to a rather lovely lady.

Today’s lady in question and joining the fabled ranks of Grace Kelly and Marilyn Monroe is none other than the Queen of Burlesque herself, Miss Dita Von Teese. By an enormous stroke of luck, today marks her forty-first year of stylish living. 

Make your own moustache wax

In which G.M. Norton demonstrates how easy it is to concoct your own moustache wax.

Since growing an over-sized soup strainer, I have turned to the wonder of moustache wax to keep my prize specimen under control.

So far I have tried three wax purveyors; namely Captain Fawcett, Mr. King’s Marvellous Moustache Wax and Bounder. Of course, upon discovering recipes for homemade moustache wax, I was rather taken with the idea.

A thoroughly British tradition

In which G.M. Norton is invited to partake in a brilliantly British tradition - moaning. 

Fellow Vintage Manchester blogging finalist, Helen off of Mancunian Vintage, recently invited me by way of ‘blog tagging’ to commentate on the declining conundrums of society.

As a glass-half-full sort of chap (especially if it contains single malt), I prefer not to focus on the negativity of modern life. Although by harking back to days gone by, I suppose I am already doing so, if indirectly.

A very vintage year

In which G.M. Norton marks the first anniversary of Norton of Morton.

Crikey! This periodical reaches a rather important milestone tomorrow, dear readers. Believe it or not, the very first Norton of Morton periodical posting was published at 4 o’clock on Saturday 8^th September 2012 - one whole year ago! Time for a birthday celebration, what?

It’s fair to say that champagne corks will be flying at Château NoM this weekend, with a Telegram eagerly expected from our sovereign (and regular reader, according to Harry), Her Majesty the Queen. 

My Vintage Life

In which G.M. Norton makes an appearance in a brand new vintage publication.

Today I have the honour of formally announcing some rather splendid news. Much to my delight, my musings have been included in a new publication, His Vintage Life, which is available from Messrs W.H. & Smith from the 5^th of September.

Tea for two and two for tea

In which G.M. Norton indulges in a spot of afternoon tea with his beloved.

Afternoon tea epitomises the very essence of Englishness so when my beloved chanced upon an offer on Wowcher, we simply had to sample Tom’s Champagne Bar in Manchester.

So, last weekend, my beloved wearing a rather lovely ‘Hepburn’ tea dress from Lady Vintage, and myself clad in tweed and corduroy, toddled off to the city centre ready to be fortified by a very fine meal.

Ost-riches and raging bulls

In which G.M. Norton teases himself by imagining what lovely items he could have splurged his car repair bill on.

Well, dear readers, my motorcar has been making a truly awful racket over the last few weeks. Adopting ostrich like behaviour, I naturally buried my head in the sand for as long as possible until even cats and dogs covered their collective ears as I trundled past in the old rust bucket. 

Having received my monthly pay cheque from my employer (alas, I do not have an inheritance to squander), I bit the proverbial bullet and made a much-needed visit to the car hospital. 

Well, I won’t bore you with the full details (mechanical talk goes completely over my pomade-covered head) but the lengthy list of mechanical improvements left me parting with a rather hefty sum to bring it back to (almost) full health. Crikey! What exceedingly rum luck.

Gentlemen prefer blondes?

In which G.M. Norton celebrates the Master of Suspense’s birthday with a furtive glance at his femme fatales. 

As regular readers will have picked up from my Cary Grant and Grace Kelly periodical postings, I am a huge Alfred Hitchcock fan.

For me, Hitchcock is the greatest film director that has ever lived. His film career spanned more than 50 years, some of the most recognisable being Rear Window (1954), Vertigo (1958), North by Northwest (1959), Psycho (1960) and The Birds (1963). 

The perfect summer outfit

In which G.M. Norton makes his first foray into party hosting but must find suitable gentlemanly attire for the occasion.

Last weekend I was hired to host a lady’s birthday party. Held at a sports club boasting a cricket pitch and tennis courts, the party had a vintage tea party theme.

To make a suitably bold presence, I was keen to wear the classic summer outfit for a gentleman – a skimmer, boating blazer and cream trousers. Unfortunately, the hat and blazer were both items I did not yet possess.

So, I did what any self-respecting aspiring gentleman would do and I scoured the net far and wide, even appealing for assistance on the Twittering Device.

Ten summer tips for gentlemen

In which G.M. Norton comes to the rescue for gentlemen everywhere.

The autumn and winter months are a walk in the park for gentlemen, but the summer months can be a terribly testing time. Where a gentleman was once able to cling to the comforting fabrics of tweed and corduroy, rather unhelpfully, more tropical weather doesn't lend itself to such attire.

Breathe a sigh of relief though, chumrades, because as ever, help is at hand in the form of your favourite protagonist. To take the stress out of summer, I have rather helpfully compiled my top ten tips to guide a chap through the warmer climate. Gentleman clad in seersucker

In the club

In which G.M. Norton realises a 20 year ambition.

I remember it quite clearly. I was sat in the family home one morning in 1993, watching The Big Breakfast television show when I first caught sight of the Handlebar Club. Men with enormous moustaches filled the tiny television set and I was hooked. “One day, Norton old stick, you will grow a fine moustache and join the Handlebar Club,” said I. Well, ladies and gentlemen, that day has arrived. Huzzah!

Proudly wearing the club tie. Pictorial taken by the super talented Adele off of My Last Dollar Dress.

Style icon: Terry-Thomas

In which G.M. Norton celebrates the greatest British bounder in showbiz history.

Yes avid readers, it’s once again time for Norton of Morton to accurately examine the life, times and non-sartorial crimes of a particular gentleman.  

As I may have given away slightly in the headline, the subject in question is none other than the late comic actor Terry-Thomas (by a strange coincidence, Terry-Thomas is also a subject taught at the Phileas Fogg School for Amateur Balloonists).

Norton of Morton needs you

In which G.M. Norton requests your assistance in a most pressing matter.

You may have noticed a change to the furnishings here at Norton of Morton – a new banner is flying proudly above this entry, featuring your humble protagonist in a Kitchener-inspired pose.

So, what is the reason for this pointing of fingers? Well, gentle reader, nominations are now open for the Best of Vintage Manchester Awards 2013 and I need your help. I’d be tickled pink if you would nominate this periodical for the category of ‘Best Vintage Lifestyle Blog’.

Must try harder!

In which G.M. Norton receives his half-term report for his 2013 crusade, Year of the Gentleman.

To much fanfare, in January I announced Norton of Morton’s mission for 2013 - Year of the Gentleman. The idea behind it is to encourage men to find their gentlemanly side and to celebrate chivalry.

Well, dear reader, I have received my half-term report from Headmaster, Professor Edwards off of ‘Whack-O!’ fame (as portrayed by the spirit of the late thespian Jimmy Edwards).

Professor Edwards' reaction when I brought him an apple rather than scotch

Here’s what Professor Edwards had to say:

Smell like a 16th century sailor

In which G.M. Norton lets his manly scent secret out of the bag.

As an aspiring English gentleman, not only is it important to look and behave impeccably, it is also vital to be a fragrant fellow too. Athletic odour should be avoided at all costs.

As part of one’s grooming ritual and sitting proudly in any self-respecting chap’s medicine cabinet is a trusty bottle of aftershave. Sat in my yet to be acquired medicine cabinet is Barbershop Bay Rum.

The gentlemanly father

In which G.M. Norton offers a glimpse into the life of being a gentlemanly father.

 

Not only am I an aspiring English gentleman, I also the very proud father to two beautiful girls.

With Father’s Day only a day away, it occurred to me how similar the roles of Gentleman and Father actually are.

Please allow me to explain a little. The way I see it, a good father should set a positive example, be respectful, show courtesy and kindness and live a life of integrity and honesty. I also consider these to be the true traits of a gentleman.

Pulling silly faces with my eldest

The fellowship of the moustache - part III

In which G.M. Norton waxes lyrical about his sub-nasal topiary.

It is said that ‘a man is known by the moustache he keeps’. If that is true, this is how I am now known.

What's black and white and read all over? This periodical!

It is now 98 days since I made the momentous decision to ‘grow a mo’ and several weeks since my last hairy update. 

It warms my heart to think that every strand of hair found above my top lip serves as a tribute to the pantheon of moustache holders throughout history – Lord Kitchener, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Jimmy Edwards, Terry-Thomas, Leslie Phillips, Barry Chuckle. I am sure you have your own personal favourite hirsute hero.

Smouldering Sirens: Marilyn Monroe

In which G.M. Norton pays tribute to Hollywood’s (second) blonde bombshell.

I thought it was jolly well time I entered another lovely lady into my pantheon of ‘Smouldering sirens’. So without further ado, I would like to formally induct Marilyn Monroe to my list, following in the dainty footsteps of fellow actress, Miss Grace Kelly. 

So, what is it about the blonde-haired beauty with the voluptuous figure and sensuous appeal that made me enter her into my ‘Smouldering sirens’ list? I’m at a loss to explain it, I really am. I suppose it may have been the blonde hair, voluptuous figure and sensuous appeal.

Feigning surprise to be included on the list

£15 Eccles Day ensemble

In which G.M. Norton is challenged to assemble Eccles-bought gentlemanly attire for the paltry sum of £15.

I was recently asked to take part in a Style Challenge for the inaugural Eccles Day event, to encourage people to visit the Salford town made famous for its Eccles cake.

The challenge was simple – to put together an outfit bought from the town centre for a meagre £15 and then parade it during a fashion show segment on the day.

An Englishman's home is his castle

In which G.M. Norton discusses home furnishings.

After years of lining the pockets of various landlords, in three week’s time, I will officially become a homeowner. 

Naturally, I am growing increasingly impatient to move in and make our new house a home. With this in mind, my thoughts have drifted to how I’d like my new family residence to be dressed (it certainly beats filling boxes with endless pile after endless pile of possessions).

For the man who has everything

In which G.M. Norton hails his new shaving brush.

A few weeks ago, I had the dubious honour of turning 31. As people who know me will grumble in agreement, I prefer not to have much fanfare on my birthday. All I ask is that things are kept simple and relatively low-key. Perhaps a medley from a barbershop quartet or a burlesque dancer jumping out of a giant birthday cake.

With each passing year, I am starting to hear this question on a more regular basis - “What do I get the man who has everything?” So far that reason, as well as receiving a large supply of cake and a couple of gifts, I found myself in the rare situation of having some money to spend. So what did I do? I bought a shaving brush of course.

Shoes, glorious shoes

In which G.M. Norton unveils his ever expanding shoe collection.

Some people collect stamps, others collect die-cast toy model cars. Lately, your favourite protagonist has being collecting shoes. Not on purpose, you understand. In fact, one could argue that my collection has been amassed quite by accident. Or certainly by circumstance.

A brief glimpse

The fellowship of the moustache - part II

In which G.M. Norton continues his moustache-growing endeavours.

“In a stroke of brilliance I have grown a moustache” was my proclamation four weeks ago upon the unveiling of my infant moustache. Well, the weeks have passed by in a hazy blur so I thought it was jolly well time I updated you on my progress thus far. 

Who framed G.M. Norton?

Land of hope and glory

In which G.M. Norton waves the flag of St. George.

The 23^rd April marks St. George’s Day, when England collectively Morris dances, feasts on the finest roast beef our local butchers can muster and Afternoon Tea becomes an all-day affair.

As I write this, I am stood in a queue, draped in a flag of St. George, eating fish and chips, with a cup of tea, outside in the rain. 

Shortly, the sun will put his hat on and I will enjoy a brisk game of croquet. With my hair slightly mussed after my sporty escapade, I will sip fragrant, amber Earl Grey tea in a delicate, china cup and tuck into cucumber sandwiches. These will quickly be followed by freshly-baked scones, covered in clotted cream and a big dollop of jam.

It's a man's world

In which G.M. Norton celebrates the great British barber.

In need of a trim, last week I had the pleasure of frequenting my favourite hair establishment - Stans Barbers in Prestwich, Greater Manchester. 

Stans Barbers is a traditional barbershop with two scissor wielding chaps, Jack and Essa, working their way through wave after wave of men in need of a haircut and perhaps somewhere to escape. 

I have been patron to a number of hair enterprises over the years, including a handful of those whimsical and stupidly trendy ‘hair salons’ that charge absurd prices for absurd haircuts. 

The gentlemanly art of self-defence

In which G.M. Norton marvels at Bartitsu, the gentlemanly way to deal with ruffians.

Fair warning to footpads and cutpurses everywhere! The next time you’re thinking of stealing from a parasol-carrying lady or cane-twirling gentleman, you may be the deserving victim of Bartitsu, a martial art for discerning chaps and chapettes.

The fellowship of the moustache

In which G.M. Norton finds himself in a hairy situation.

Today the humble moustache has all but vanished from the faces of young men, cast into the dark abyss of the past with a disapproving glare for good measure.

Instead of sporting magnificent upper lip appendages, our mixed-up society has sought fit to proudly wear over-sized babygrows and dip themselves in creosote instead.

Thankfully, there is still a small band of supporters intent on reawakening the moustache by proudly displaying graspable appendages and challenging the clean-shaven status quo of modernity.

Not one to hold back, I have decided to join this most chivalrous of movements and become a fully-fledged member of the Fur Face Fellowship. After all, 2013 is the Year of the Gentleman and every self-respecting gentleman should at one stage or another sport a sprouting of hair above their top lip.

Ladies and gentlemen, please allow me to introduce you to my infant moustache.

Terrific titfers

In which G.M. Norton ponders one of the great mysteries of our age – the sad decline of hats.

The beginning of Spring is a tantalising time of the year, full of starts and stops and bitter retreats as it engages in a deadly duel with its arch enemy Winter. As we all know, eventually Spring will emerge victorious (of sorts) as light and warmth defeats darkness and cold.

However, as the brave and plucky daffodils poke their heads from the recently frozen ground, we do not have to follow suit and risk cold craniums. That’s when the humble hat becomes our saviour. Not only does a hat offer protection against the elements during inclement weather but it also transforms you from dowdy to dapper.

Style icon: Sir Michael Caine

In which G.M. Norton announces his latest Style Icon inductee. 

Hello avid readers and welcome to the latest exciting instalment of your favourite weekly periodical, brought to you every Saturday at four o’clock.

My latest posting concerns the famous thespian, Sir Michael Caine who I have sought fit to induct into my Style Icon list, joining Sir Roger Moore and Cary Grant.

"My name is Maurice Micklewhite."

Behold the beneficiary boutiques!

In which G.M. Norton reveals the treasure he has recently managed to plunder at bargain prices.

I must confess, I love a good charity shop. Last Christmas, I managed to cobble together a party outfit for the princely sum of £38 and it’s fair to say that I am continuing to unearth even more bargains (to the detriment of my wardrobes).

This year, I have made a vow of sorts to buy the majority of my clothes from charity shops (or ‘beneficiary boutiques’ as my chum Bruce Partington-Plans refers to them). As I know what sharp eyes you’ve got, I have afforded myself a little get-out by writing that is my intention to ‘buy the majority’ – a chap must allow himself sufficient leverage to snaffle something extra special from time to time.

Read all about it – featured in Pretty Nostalgic

In which G.M. Norton makes an exciting announcement. 

 

I am rather excited to reveal that my babblings have made it inside the March/April issue of Pretty Nostalgic, 'the independent vintage lifestyle magazine celebrating everything that's brilliantly British'.

If you’ve not yet had the pleasure of perusing a copy of Pretty Nostalgic, I would hastily recommend that you toddle over to your nearest W.H. Smiths. Although it is quite pricey at £8 a copy, it is a first class publication and when you consider that it is completely independent, I think it’s worth every penny. The illustrations and photographs are a wonder to behold and worth the reading fee alone.

Merkur 34C HD – a most resplendent razor

In which G.M. Norton cuts straight to the point and recommends his favourite safety razor.

For gentlemen searching for the perfect shave, the straight (or cut-throat) razor is undoubtedly the best option available. Especially if you’re looking to introduce a touch of danger into your morning routine. 

The wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Potter

However, for the vast majority of traditional wet shavers who don’t want to bother with the strops, stones and scales of straights, the double-edged safety razor is the preferred weapon of choice.

All the fun of the (vintage) fair

In which G.M. Norton shares his experience of being the Finder of the Fair.

On the second Sunday of every month, a rather splendid event takes place in Stockport, in the town’s lovely Victorian covered market hall – The Vintage Village.

The Vintage Village is a pop-up fair boasting stalls offering quality authentic vintage goodies all under one roof.   

Each month, they ask somebody to act as the guest curator and select their favourite treasures from those available for purchase from the mix of vintage vendors. Thanks to the power of Twitter where an appeal was issued for a chap to be February’s Finder, I was kindly nominated for the honour by Old Fashioned Susie and Gent Cyclist.

The rules of romance (Jane Austen-style)

In which G.M. Norton explores the romantic rules of two hundred years ago with a little help from a literary great.

I currently have my pomade-covered head submerged in a Jane Austen novel. Pride and Prejudice to be precise. It was first published in January 1813, making it an incredible two hundred years old.

I must confess to knowing very little about the story until recently – my only vague recollection being the iconic scene in the BBC dramatisation where Darcy, played by Colin Firth, emerges dripping wet from a lake. Upon spying the novel on the charity shop bookshelf, something urged me to pick it up and part with 99 pence. I’m awfully glad I did.