Christmas time, social media and wine

In which G.M. Norton is his usual hypocritical self. Bah Humbug.

With the advent of social media, Christmas is becoming an endless stream of photographs containing Christmas trees, turkey dinners and piles of presents to announce the sudden visit and departure of every pogonophile’s wet dream, Mr. Father Christmas.

I’ve neglected to share such visual delights with people. Perhaps for fear of not having the best decorated tree, or because there weren’t enough stuffing balls on the plate I was carefully capturing on camera. Or perhaps I was just too busy enjoying the festivities with my family. I certainly preferred the good old-fashioned option of eating my Christmas dinner while it was hot rather than spend an aching amount of time trying to find the best composition to show it in it's best light.

At this juncture, I probably sound a little grumpy. I’m not, really. Just a little perplexed. I’m all for social media, it really is a wonderful beast but I feel it has the potential to expose me a little too much at times (especially after the infamous gap-in-the-trouser incident).

Anyway, now I’ve finished bemoaning modern technology on this electronic periodical, which you are probably reading on your fanciful new electronic device, I shall be a complete hypocrite and share some of the gifts that I found in my stocking. Because, my dear chum, that is how one rolls.

First up is the complete DVD collection of two of my favourite comedy shows – O-O-O-O-Open All Hours and Dad's Army. Hours of titters to follow.

Fifteen festive favourites (well, fourteen)

In which G.M. Norton answers questions about Christmas. 

 

A highly contagious epidemic has been spreading recently. Thankfully, I don't mean anything as nasty as the Norovirus. However, given that it involves blogging types, bile is known to come out of both ends at times (I include myself in this, I hasten to add).

 

The epidemic to which I am referring involves bloggers sharing fifteen of their favourite Christmassy things and then passing the cracker-shaped baton on to other bloggers to share their festive-related nonsense. Such a lark. I was tagged by the lovely Charlie off of Gin Fuelled Bluestocking.

 

So, without further comparisons to illnesses made in poor taste, here are my fourteen festive favourites (I omitted one about my 'favourite Christmas candle scent' because I'm in that kind of mood). 

 

Favourite festive food

 

Guilt-free cheese and crackers, washed down with a large glass of Port. I don't feel I need to elaborate any further.



Mad Dogs and Servicemen: "Mad Jack" Churchill

In which G.M. Norton celebrates the soldier who went to World War Two armed with a sword and a bow and arrow.

If you’ve not already made his acquaintance, please allow me to introduce you to Lieutenant Colonel John Malcolm Thorpe Fleming Churchill, or “Mad Jack” as he was known.

Churchill (no relation to Sir Winston) was a soldier in Second World War, whose exploits on the battlefield are the epitome of military romanticism.

Mad Jack

A highly-decorated soldier, Jack survived multiple explosions; successfully escaped from two prisoner of war camps; captured more than forty Nazis during a single raid, armed with just his sword; and became the only British soldier during Second World War to kill the enemy with a bow and arrow.

As Jack wryly commented, “Any officer who goes into action without his sword is improperly dressed.”

Give the gift of socks this Christmas

In which G.M. Norton explains how a gift of socks can be a joy to behold on Christmas morning.

Socks, the thoughtless yet practical Christmas gift for chaps who quite frankly, would still very much appreciate a train set. Due to such disappointing experiences, men have mastered the art of feigning gratitude for nondescript socks, probably purloined on a whim while stood in a department store queue.

Such a sorry episode is doing the sock a great disservice though. Cheap and nasty socks are an abomination. Dare I mention them, but novelty socks or those with days of the week emblazoned across are even more ghastly!

In truth though, if you are having trouble deciding what gift to present to the male of the species, then a luxurious pair of socks is a darn fine option. I would genuinely love to wake up on Christmas morning, and after consuming the traditional glass of dry sherry, be presented with an exquisitely wrapped parcel containing a pair of super soft socks.

Magazine madness

In which G.M. Norton finds his musings printed in two magazines.

I enjoy writing so when the chance presents itself to pen a little something for a magazine, I readily accept the invitation. Not content with making it into one printed magazine though, I find myself in two at the same time.

The first is for In Retrospect magazine. As regular readers may be aware, I've contributed to three digital editions to date, as their menswear style aficionado. Following a successful Kickstarter campaign to raise money to crank up the printing press, the first ever printed In Retrospect is available to buy from this Monday, 1st December 2014.

Inside it, you will find a feature by myself on Private White VC. Private White was a soldier during the First World War who inspired a Manchester menswear brand, now ably led by his great-grandson, James Eden. 

Handlebar Club calendar - the perfect Christmas stocking filler!

In which G.M. Norton implores you to purchase a calendar brimming with upper lip appendages.

I may no longer be a member of The Handlebar Club, following  the recent relinquishing of my lip weasel in the name of love.

However, as one of my Handlebar Club chums wryly commented, once you're a member, you never truly leave.

So without further pre-amble, let's cut to the chase, shall we?

Do be a sport and buy a Handlebar Club calendar!

It is only a paltry £10 to people in Blighty and for those overseas, just £13.50 (both options include postage).

Cor blimey! It's a right old cockney knees-up

In which G.M. Norton steps back in time for a good old-fashioned sing-song.

 

From time to time, usually between the hours of 9 o’clock in the morning until 10 o’clock in the evening, my mind harks back to a bygone age where a night at the local drinking tavern would result in a jolly good sing-song around the piano with a large group of chums.

During these wistful moments, I usually picture myself sat at said piano, leading the fleshy morass of sartorially savvy revellers into a rendition of The Sex Pistols’ Anarchy in the UK. On second thoughts, that may be the wrong song choice for this particular setting.

In any case, I’m unable to play the piano (unless a painstaking but thought-provoking version of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star counts).

Moving on from my musical failings, there just so happens to be an ivory tickling chap in existence. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the delightfully dapper Mr. Tom Carradine.

The Wonderful Waistcoat Lady

In which G.M. Norton reveals his new tartan waistcoat.

I was recently alerted to the talents of Jules, the Waistcoat Lady of Wales. When I got wind of Jules making a waistcoat for my chum, it was only a matter of time before I’d contacted her and commissioned my own.

I ordered a metre of fabric and sent this to Jules, along with one of my waistcoats to use as a size guide and thirty English pounds. If you are confident supplying your measurements, you can also do this if you’d prefer this method, especially if you’re a waistcoat virgin. Jules then supplies the silk backing, along with buttons, fastenings and return postage. An absolute snip, I'm sure you'll agree!

A fond farewell

In which G.M. Norton bids a fond farewell to his face furniture.

Its somehow fitting that on the day where many moustache journeys will begin, my own has come to an end. That’s right, dear reader – my moustache is no more.

I realise this may have come as quite a shock to you. For twenty glorious months, I have proudly had my top lip adorned with the most magnificent of lip weasels – the handlebar moustache.

But as the old saying goes, all good things must come to an end.

So, why have I committed such a wanton act of vandalism to the face?

Competition: Win a pocket watch!

In which G.M. Norton invites you to take the time to win a pocket watch.

 

It seems I can't help giving things away at the moment. It was only a week ago that I ran a competition to win a cravat, courtesy of my chums at Cravat Club.

 

Now, I'm offering you lucky readers the chance to take ownership of your very own pocket watch.

It's not just any pocket watch, I hasten to add. It's a pocket watch that comes complete with a reassuringly heavy stand, so that it niftily doubles up as a desk clock. It sells for £85 so is not to be sniffed at.

World Cravat Day

In which G.M. Norton gives thanks to Croatia.

Given that today marks World Cravat Day, it would be rude not to give it a jolly good mention on the periodical this week.

As a self-confessed cravat devotee, I must admit to not giving much thought to the provenance of the most debonair of neckwear. Indeed, it was only while conducting a little research into World Cravat Day that I discovered that we have Croatia to thank for cravats.

It seems that the cravat adorned the necks of 17th century Croatian soldiers, as part of their military uniform. During the reign of King Louis VIII in France, Parisians couldn't help but be charmed by the unusual scarves wrapped around the Croatian mercenaries enlisted in the regiment. Before long, news of the cravat travelled far and wide and soon it became de rigueur to be seen wearing one.

Croatia are so proud of this important part of their history that in 2008, Croatian Parliament declared the 18th day of October as the Day of the Cravat.

First Friday at The Handlebar Club



In which G.M. Norton dashes to London for a meeting of moustaches.

 

As regular readers will recall, upon growing the required upper lip appendage with graspable extremities, I joined the prestigious Handlebar Club.

Club members surrounding El Presidente, Mr Rod Littlewood (Photography - Nick Harrison)

The Handlebar Club was formed in 1947 by Jimmy Edwards. It is a thoroughly decent Club to be a member of. The moustachioed men that the Club comprises of are a delightful bunch of gentlemen.

Delightfully dapper (Photography - Nick Harrison)

Traditionally, the Club meet on the first Friday of every month. The meeting isn't the kind of dull affair like in the workplace, with some poor sap (sometimes me) taking minutes and going through the agenda.

The Man in the Grey Tweed Suit

In which G.M. Norton takes his new suit on a strange little outing.

A milestone for any gentleman, I recently acquired my first ever three-piece tweed suit. A grey number, with a red windowpane check, it is from Messrs Walker Slater.

They have clothing emporiums in both Edinburgh and Londinium but as I reside near neither, I made my purchase online.

I'll tell you a little story, if I may. I used to own a grey wool suit. Grey is a safe suit colour choice, it goes with absolutely all kinds of things. It is probably the most versatile suit you could own. 

Taking a walk on the strange side

Going wild with Caorunn Gin

In which G.M. Norton joins a group of epicurean adventurers for a journey into the unknown.

One might suppose that I am partial to a gin or three. If you have jumped to that conclusion about me, I must congratulate you and confirm that you are indeed correct.

Rowan berries form the very soul of Caorunn Gin

The people at Caorunn Gin must have made the same accurate assumption as they were kind enough to invite me on a little foraging expedition, with the promise of cocktails and lunch afterwards. Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I accepted their offer with gusto.

So, why the invite to go foraging? Well, as part of Caorunn Gin’s Forage to Glass initiative, they have been working with watering holes to discover wild ingredients to help create unique and tasty cocktails. After a few successful foraging outings with local bartenders at Lawn Club and Elixir, they turned their attention to people interested in drinking them, offering them the chance to get at one with nature too.

An attempt at 'street photography'

So, one wet and chilly morning, I travelled to the meeting place, 22 Redbank in Manchester where I was welcomed with warm smiles and a hot beverage. It was reminiscent of a rather agreeable sitting room with Chesterfields and a resplendent rug.

The British Beard & Moustache Championships 2014

In which G.M. Norton hands over the reins to his new No. 2 for a hairy update.

Following Mr. Ryan Pike’s summer guest spot on The Chap Olympiad, he has now filed his latest report. This time, it concerns The British Beard & Moustache Championships held last weekend.

The Pike Report

The city of Bath is well known for its magnificent architecture and culture, the Roman presence, the magnificent Abbey which marks over 100 years of history and the splendid catacomb of shops, cafes and bars that line the winding back streets. This weekend the city was more vibrant than ever as not only did it host a local rugby game filling the streets with supporters dressed in blue, white and black but also a Jane Austin convention which saw many don period costume and parade through the town, transforming the area to a time long forgotten.

However besides all this splendour, there was another very important occasion hosted by the city. Early risers strolling through the Pavillion Gardens about 0930 will have noticed a curious array of ladies and gents assembling for a parade, the men all having some form of facial hair and many of the ladies wearing fake, homemade beards and moustaches. Not an everyday sight you may well say, but the 13^th September marked the occasion of the second British Beard and Moustache Championships which is held every two years (the previous event being held in Brighton in 2012). 

Real-life dandy: Shaun Gordon

In which G.M. Norton interviews an extraordinary tie-maker and all-round natty dresser.

 

I first came across Shaun Gordon on Mr. B the Gentleman Rhymer’s Twittering page. He had attended the launch for a new tie collection by an immaculately-dressed gentleman described as “not your average tie-maker”.

Aware of Mr. B’s commendable taste in neckwear (have you seen the Gentleman Rhymer’s own range of Partridge-esque club ties?), I was instantly intrigued so proceeded to this tie-maker’s webular site. His name of course, was Mr. Shaun Gordon and as was evident in a matter of milliseconds, he makes exceedingly good ties.

Mesmerising ties aside, what struck me about Mr. Gordon was how incredibly dapper he is. What’s more, he makes it seem so effortless. Upon joining Instagram at the beginning of the year, I made the commendable decision to follow this most dashing of dandies. So, when I was considering which sartorially elegant gentleman to feature for the next ‘real-life dandy’ feature, I naturally thought of Shaun. Being the thoroughly decent chap that he is, he agreed to take part and here are the results.

The terrible twos

In which G.M. Norton celebrates Norton of Morton’s second birthday.

 

This next week marks a pretty momentous event in the old calendar, for the 8^th September means it is precisely two years since Norton of Morton came to life.

I do so enjoy reminiscing when I reach an important milestone. Take last year’s 1st birthday celebrations for instance, where I received a telegram from Her Majesty the Queen.

Or marking a year of my handlebar moustache with a time capsule ceremony.

I almost let this periodical’s second birthday pass by with no fanfare. I didn’t even get my chums, Puttin’ On The Blitz! to sing a jolly tune in celebration. 

But then, when I started to list all the things that had happened over twelve extraordinary months, I couldn’t resist. So, here are my highlights.

Marko John’s - guaranteed to blow your socks off

In which G.M. Norton gets heady about hosiery.

As a keen sock lover, I was overjoyed to be sent a rather splendid pair of socks for review by Marko John’s. If you’re not familiar with Marko John’s, they’ve been making socks in Blighty since 1895. A dashed long time, I’m sure you’ll agree!



Gift box

They make a fine selection of brightly coloured foot friends, for both ladies and gentlemen. Admittedly, the ladies range of knee-socks are limited to three colour options, but they are lovely nonetheless.



Knee-length ladies socks

Gentlemen, on the other hand (or should that be ‘foot’?) are treated to a whole array of options to suit different tastes. I counted 30 different striped pairs, which are my favourite, along with nine different ‘top and tailed’ pairs.

Review: BeauFort London moustache finishing wax and case

In which G.M. Norton makes the discovery of a lifetime – the finest moustache wax in all the land.

 

Recently, I was lucky enough to be given a new moustache wax to try from BeauFort London.

I first got wind of BeauFort London through the wonder that is the Twittering Device. Upon visiting their webular site, I was quite simply blown away by it. The imagery and language used is quite breath-taking and I hoped against hope that their flagship grooming product would live up to its promise.

Well, after testing it out in the varying weather conditions that is known as ‘the great British summer’, I am now in a position to share my opinion with you, dear readers.

Quite simply, and before I start to wax lyrical, I am astounded. There, I’ve said it.

Firstly, what sets BeauFort London’s finishing wax apart from the start is the exquisite case that the wax is enclosed in. Other makes of moustache wax either come in a disposable screw-top tin or tube, reminiscent of toothpaste. Tins and tubes just don’t cut the mustard with BeauFort London. Oh no!

What I wore on Wednesday

In which G.M. Norton wears some clothes.

I've been asked by one or two people to share a little more of the gentlemanly attire that I wear.

So, without further preamble, and to keep my promise (we Nortons never break a promise), here is the outfit I cobbled together on Wednesday.

I am happy, honestly. I'm simply trying to appear 'nonchalant'. The result is perhaps 'constipated', instead. As a slight aside, I think the Legends London hair gel looks rather marvellous, don't you think?

Now, did I do anything on Wednesday? Well, yes I did actually. After a day at the office, I visited a factory in the city of Salford. The factory is one of the last surviving clothing manufacturers in the country and home to the Private White V.C. menswear brand. I had a delightful tour for a feature which will appear in the first-ever printed edition of In Retrospect magazine.

Review: Tavus cravat from Cravat Club

In which G.M. Norton goes crazy about cravats.

I simply adore cravats. They allow the wearer to still be properly attired even when the shirt collar is open. Cravats also conjure up associations of a winking Leslie Phillips or David Niven, which for me, is only a good thing!

So you can imagine my joy when I received a cravat to review from Cravat Club.

If you’re not familiar with Cravat Club then I recommend you visit their electronic site and immerse yourself in the world of cravats (unsurprisingly) and more recently, pocket squares.

I’ve been casting furtive glances at their collection of silk accessories for quite some time. Aside from the array of interesting patterns and colours available, what sets Cravat Club apart from its competitors is that each and every one of their products is made in England. So not only do you get to ooze style and sophistication but you get to wear something made and produced right here in Blighty.

On film: The Lady Vanishes

In which G.M. Norton agrees that a million Mexicans can’t be wrong.

I recently had the pleasure of watching The Lady Vanishes, a 1938 Hitchcock film caper about espionage, the disappearance of an elderly lady and cricket.

Marking the peak of Hitchcock’s British period, it is an exquisitely crafted cinematic treasure, boasting a collection of super acting talent including Dame May Whitty as the vanishing lady. 

It was the penultimate picture that Hitch made in Britain before his celebrated move to Hollywood.

Given the identity of the person directing proceedings, you’ll be unsurprised to learn that the plot is of the suspense variety, with just a dash of romantic froth for good measure and lots of comic moments to help ease the tension.

The film begins in the fictional European country of Bandrika, which is the sort of quaint yet suspicious setting that Hergé would place Tintin and Captain Haddock in. 

Review: The Legends London Maximum Hold Hair Gel

In which G.M. Norton tests out a new hair product that makes big bold claims.

I’m a pomade man. I wear it every day and it gives me the look that I desire. So when I received a missive from the interestingly named The Legends London, offering me the chance to test out their new hair gel, I had my doubts.

Over the course of my life, my experience of hair gel has never really been very positive so the mere mention of the word ‘gel’ doesn’t have terribly good associations with me.

Pomade on the other hand is a safe word, a dependable word.

I have an inquisitive nature though so as the hair gel that The Legends were offering was completely free, I thought, why the devil not?

A few days later and the 220ml tub was in my hands, ready to give the hair gel its first outing. As first impressions go, I was quite taken with the red retro design. It wasn’t one of those achingly modern tubs that I associate with hair gel.

Chap Olympiad 2014: a field report

In which G.M. Norton invites a Handlebar Club chum to recount his Chap Olympiad experience.

Last Saturday, the 10th Chap Olympiad was held at Bedford Square Gardens in Londinium - an annual event where ladies and gentlemen gather for a wonderfully eccentric day of picnics, hobnobbing and competing for Chappish glory in 'sporting' challenges.

Sadly, my moustache and I were unable to make it but rather than let such a glorious soiree saunter by without this periodical marking it in some way, I devised a plan.

As you may have already gathered, I enjoy plotting and scheming, so I made the inspired decision to invite a Chap Olympiad attendee to pen a little something on the gregarious goings-on.

Enter, my chum and fellow Handlebar Club member, Mr. Ryan Pike.

Handlebar Club members including Ryan (far left) and Michael "Atters" Attree (centre)

Please sit back, pour yourself a tumbler of your favourite tipple and enjoy Mr. Pike's account of his experience at the Chap event of the year.

Over to you, Ryan.

As fit as a fiddle

In which G.M. Norton works up a sweat in the name of gallantry.

Aware of my ever-expanding waistline after too many good lunches, pieces of cake, chocolate, biscuits, crisps, cheese and carrots, I recently made the decision to cut down on the carrots and start exercising.

I must confess, I’m not a very active sort of chap, preferring to plant my bottom in a comfortable armchair than on some form of fitness contraption.

However, it would appear that a few jackets have recently shrunk in size and I’m becoming more self-conscious about my protruding abdominal area. So, it was with some trepidation that two weeks ago, I started a new fitness regime – thirty minutes of good old-fashioned exercise every day. And I must say, after a fortnight of huffing and puffing, I feel much better.

The Allahakbarries

In which G.M. Norton draws attention to a collection of literary greats and the noble game of cricket.

What do you get when you combine a number of writing greats, one or two intrepid explorers and add a generous helping of cricket? The Allahakbarries, of course – a celebrity cricket team from Victorian and Edwardian England.

 

Founded by J.M. Barrie, the creator of Peter Pan, this extraordinary amateur cricket team played each summer from the years 1887 to 1913, before the First World War had the audacity to interrupt play.

The Allahakbarries – a combination of the founder’s surname and the Arabic phrase ‘Allah akbar’, which they mistakenly thought meant ‘Heaven help us’. It does in actual fact translate as ‘God is great’.

The team sheet quite literally reads like a list of the most famous writers in history, who regularly turned out for Barrie’s team. It included Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, P.G. Wodehouse, A.A. Milne, E.W. Hornung and Jerome K. Jerome. I believe Rudyard Kipling and H.G. Wells also played occasionally, on account of the rather excellent refreshments.

Strutting summery stuff

In which G.M. Norton is proud to be recognised as a Very Impractical Person.

A little while ago, your favourite protagonist was a V.I.P. guest to a summer vintage fashion show. 

Organised by the Vintage Collective, made up of Paula off of Mint Vintage and Gabby of Vintage Belle fame, it was held in a lovely conservation area in Salford, at a marvellous place called the Creation Café.

The Creation Cafe by the leaning tower of Salford

Victory is ours!

In which G.M. Norton emerges victorious.

Chumrades, I have exciting news to impart! (Although if you have made the commendable decision to follow me on the Twittering Device, Facebook or Instagram, then this will be old news).

{ Please imagine a drum roll being played, preferably by the rather dapper Mr. Charlie Watts off of The Rolling Stones }

I am quite flabbergasted to tell you that Norton of Morton has been crowned the best vintage blog in the whole kingdom. “Twaddle! Codswallop!” I hear you cry. No, really. I have. Look, see for yourself, I have the trophy and everything.

The award ceremony for The National Vintage Awards was held on Thursday 19^th June, so very little time has passed between then and now. I am still feeling rather elated, I must confess.

Giveaway! Assortment of ale

In which G.M. Norton drinks free beer and encourages you to do the same.

You may not be aware, dear reader, but as I have no inheritance to squander, I work the old nine to five, chained to a desk made of that pretend wood. You know the stuff, with the wood veneer masking its true shoddy self.

Three or four weeks ago (I do forget the small details sometimes), I was scampering away from work one evening after a hard day in front of the 'coal face' when I was alerted by way of vibration to an electronic message.

It was from a lovely lady at Beer52.com. If you’ve yet to be introduced, they are an Edinburgh-based company who deliver a box of eight remarkable bottles of beer from independent microbreweries to your door, once a month.

Smouldering Sirens: Dame Diana Rigg

In which G.M. Norton is mesmerised by a right royal Dame.

Dear reader, please join me in welcoming Dame Diana Rigg to Norton of Morton’s list of Smouldering Sirens.

I’ve always been captivated by this lady. As a self-confessed Bond fan, it was perhaps her role in the 1969 On Her Majesty’s Secret Service that first brought her to my attention. Playing Countess Teresa di Vicenzo, who famously became the only ever Mrs Bond, I probably noted that if she was good enough to lure 007 down the aisle, then she’s good enough for me. What a smart child I was.

Real-life dandy: Sir Royston Buckingham-Hurst

In which G.M. Norton shines the sartorial spotlight on another eccentric dandy. 

What time is it, chumrades? Dandy o’clock, of course!

I am tickled pink to introduce you to the splendidly-named Sir Royston Buckingham-Hurst. 

Thankfully, as well as boasting a rather natty name, Sir Royston is also a rather natty dresser and worthy of being the latest incumbent to Norton of Morton’s ‘Real-life dandy’ feature.

Cat, mouse and Kipling

In which G.M. Norton issues a rallying cry for votes.

Since the beginning of May, I’ve been on the campaign trail, urging people to vote for this periodical in the National Vintage Awards. 

Keen to be crowned the Best Vintage Blog in Blighty, I’ve been fortunate to still be in the running as we approach the final seven days. 

Like an elaborate game of Cat and Mouse, the top four has chopped and changed so many times, with only a handful of votes separating 1^st and 4^th.

A modern magazine for old fashioned people

In which G.M. Norton proudly reveals his involvement in a brand new vintage publication.

I am pleased to report that there is a new lifestyle magazine to feast your eyes on for both men and women, featuring everything old fashioned or retro styled. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you In Retrospect.

What’s more dear reader; I am one of the writers!

Available online at the moment, with burgeoning dreams of becoming a fully-fledged printed publication, In Retrospect covers everything. Don’t believe me? Well the first corker of an issue covers vintage fashion and style, dancing, history, opinion, culture and transport.

The art of wooing a lady

In which G.M. Norton guides chaps through the confusing, uncharted wooing waters.

That chance encounter can happen anywhere - on public transport, standing in a queue, walking around an art gallery, at work, in a bar. The moment you meet an exquisite creature that stirs up a strong desire to overwhelm her with the 'bold move', all too often the incident runs as follows. 

The fair maiden - all cherry lips and eyes you get lost in. You - all nerves, incoherence and slobbering. Don't be this man. With just a little effort, you can exude David Niven-like panache. 

Panache aplenty

Ever mindful that you can meet the girl of your dreams anywhere; always be prepared. Just as you may have your best underwear on should you be knocked down by a moving vehicle (chances are a mobility scooter), always be presentable. If you look good, you will feel good and confidence is the key to opening Pandora’s Box (or Catherine’s, or Jenny’s...).

The only chap in the vintage

In which G.M. Norton is the last man standing and needs your vote. 

Awards, awards, awards. Lately, dear readers, that is all I have been hearing (apart from the little voice in my head – who sounds remarkably like Sir Noël Coward – that repeatedly encourages me to do the most caddish of things).

Last weekend my beloved and I travelled from our home in Manchester down to Londinium. The reason? Well, two in fact. One was a little meeting with a film director and the other was the small matter of a UK Blog Awards ceremony where this very periodical was challenging for the ‘Most Innovative’ crown.

Last man standing