Now we are one

Blue skies, blossom on the trees last week then icy sleet today. You have to roll with it and put your vest back on. Business, too, is unpredictable and unforgiving. Last month was scarily quiet for us, following a January that saw me knocked off balance by some health stuff (hence the blog hiatus). There are no "statutory sick days", or guaranteed wage, when you are self-employed. I did have half an hour longer in bed one morning but then some minor crisis arose that only I could solve so I got up and got on with it. We work seven days a week, opening Sunday afternoons too if the weather looks to encourage a constitutional. Not throwing a pity party - too much washing up afterwards - but just reminding those who tune in for the gritty docu-drama that we operate with an anorexic safety margin. Rent and rates have to be paid however wobbly you may feel. Prime Minster David Cameron "gifted" small businesses a cut on the rates last summer. Lambeth council said that would stand for a year. Three months later they rose and next month they go up again.

But this month, March, sees the shop's first anniversary and we have made it to that milepebble on the support of the local community (with the occasional guest postcode exception). Last week we received an invitation from local councillors to join a discussion group of Oval businesses and have RSVP'd in the positive. And positively shall we be minded to participate.

The lull in suiting commissions, on the bright side, meant we could concentrate on the four outfits we were invited to create for display at Mansion House, the Lord Mayor's palace in the City of London. You may recall we exhibited there last September, during Fashion Week. This season we sat that out as throwing limited resources at competing for attention with Burberry (http://uk.burberry.com/store/menswear/tailoring/) just seemed silly. But as a result of having danced last time round our name now came up in a meeting scheduled to discuss the new Lord Mayor's commitment, as a proud Yorkshireman, to promoting the wool trade and Yorkshire mills.

Other designers invited to showcase their work in the exhibition that rolls for the year David Wootton holds office include these long-established Titans of tailoring:

 Paul Smith (http://www.paulsmith.co.uk/shop/paul-smith-men-378/category.html);

 Margaret Howell (http://www.margarethowell.co.uk/#/collections/mens-spring-summer-12);

 Anderson & Sheppard (http://www.anderson-sheppard.co.uk/index.html);

 and Hardy Amies (http://hardyamies.com/). 

That's pretty exalted company for raggle-taggle-come-lately-you-know-who! 

Staged by The Campaign for Wool (http://www.campaignforwool.org/), and supported by The Woolmark Company (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xsooOyRZB0Q), some cloth has been provided for the others by Savile Row favourites Dormeuil (http://www.dormeuil.com/). Bedlam's bolts of fabric, however, have been generously sponsored ONCE AGAIN by those stalwarts of the merchant class, the Bob & Bing of warp & weft, Philip Pittack & Martin White of Crescent Trading (http://www.crescenttrading.com/). Trading out of a permanently freezing warehouse stacked floor to ceiling with meltons, flannels, tweeds, worsteds and gaberdines - sourced from the last remaining mills in Yorkshire and Scotland - they have devoted their long careers to promoting British cloth. 

Last week then we arrived back at Mansion House to dress the mannequins and were really most touched by the friendly recognition we got from the lovely staff there. Stepping back to admire our work, however, we realised something was missing. Like doh! We had forgotten shirts and ties. So we dashed over to the Austin Reed store across the road at #1 Poultry to try our charm on the store manager Tony Dobbs. To our relief and delight he was instantly enthusiastic and after getting the rubber stamped OK from HQ told us to choose what we needed. Our sincere thanks to them. http://www.austinreed.co.uk/fcp/categorylist/dept/mens-formalshirts

Tony Dobbs, manager at Austin Reed, The Poultry, who got us out of  a pickle like it was no problem at all

Mark redressed the mannequin with a spotted silk tie and contrast collar shirt, generously supplied by Austin Reed

Technically tricky and using almost twice as much cloth as a conventional pinstripe, the plates on our Tectonic suit have shifted on the bias. The electric blue lining gives a jolt of energy. The six- button working cuffs prompt a man to roll up his sleeves and get on with the job (£1300 made-to-measure).

This anti-thorn fabric made with shoot “beaters” in mind will render you immune from snags and problems. Stride through life's undergrowth to emerge unscathed and pristine. Built to last a life time.
(£1200 made-to-measure)

Silk tie and luxury cotton shirt generously supplied by Austin Reed

What we also had time to do was an interesting project for a gentleman wood engraver called Mr Adam Lawrence who lives round the corner from the shop. Here he is demonstrating how you chisel the wood (with a very sharp doo-da) while resting it on a leather pad so that the v sharp doo-da doesn't slip and stab you:

Here (below) is an engraving of cyclamen Mr Lawrence did some years ago. He told us there is a block by the master wood engraver Thomas Bewick in the Newcastle Museum of Printmaking that is considered to have produced 800,000 prints and never got worn down. It was a most marvellous masterclass to have Mr Lawrence come in to tutor us in this fine yet robust art form.

But the reason for his visit is that his pad is a borrowed one, 18th century he thinks, and he wondered if Mr Wesley would try his hand at replicating it. With a piece of leather and some builder's sand he reckoned, somewhat to my surprise I do confess, that we could present him with a fair representation. And so the challenge was taken up.

Emma, the cool new girl at Biddle Sawyer Silks (http://www.biddlesawyersilks.com/), tipped me off that Walter Reginald leather and hide repository in Whitechapel (http://www.walterreginald.com/) would most likely have what we needed. I called them up one afternoon as I was leaving Crescent Trading, thinking I could not be far. The phone was answered with a flurry of bleedin' f'ing this and that before the gruff voice apologised, explaining he was having a vent. "That's quite OK," I said, trying to empathise, "I know how you feel."
"No you don't!" snapped the voice.
Crikey, OK.
"If I could just have your address, I'm on my way."
"We close on the dot at 5pm."
"I'm a few minutes away."
"No you're not," and so it went on until I wondered if I should simply sod them and search elsewhere.
But what a glorious turn out it turned out to be, in sense of mission fulfilled and first impressions overturned. Here are just some of the glorious hides revealed:

Noooo! They flayed Spiderman!

When I walked in the warehouse I heard the same voice barking at someone else. "Are you Ray?" I asked.
"NO, he died, and this is his widow," he said, gesturing at a lady who hurried away. I thought he was  double mean trying to double bluff me so I went yeah yeah and walked on.
The friendly chap trying to help me said some light leather from the economical scrap box would do the job. Malcolm stepped in. When I showed him the mission - Mr Lawrence's wood engraving pad - he said that was made using hide 3mm thick and took over. A mutual respect began to burgeon over our commitment to finding the right thing and doing a job well. Soon he was springing about showing me  all manner of gorgeous skins.

'orrible Malcom my new best friend

Malcolm the Misanthrope then said something guaranteed to win my heart, so rarely is it ever correctly proclaimed. "Is your hair naturally Titian?" My knees crumpled and my eyes shined.
" 'Titian'?! That IS the colour of my hair!" (a lifetime of "ginger" taunts informed the gratitude)
"I used to be a hairdresser," the lovely Malcolm now revealed, "It is the most beautiful of all hair colours."
As we stood suspended in the most precious moment of forging friendship he asked another question.
"Why did you call me 'Ray' when you came in?"
"Well, you were meant to go 'Ray?!' and I was going to go 'Yes, Ray of Sunshine!' because you were so horrible on the phone!"
"Cos Ray DID die and this IS his widow" - gesturing again at the lady who had reappeared. "He was my brother."
Aiiiiii.

Mr Wesley with the beginnings of the wood engraver's pad cut from the bloody massive bit I had to buy.

Mr Wesley made holes around the two 4mm leather pizza bases by banging a big nail.

Then he laced the two halves together with waxed leather cord, with the sand bag in the middle.

He was very proud of the accomplishment, I was very proud of him and Mr Lawrence seemed delighted, going off to make his first print using his brand-new-made-just-like-the-old-style wood engraver's pad.

Diplomatic Corps Elite from the Court of Bedlam

Well the utter shabby shame of it, not a blog posted in January. Sorry.

Still, while we were in the bunker we let various ambassadors of Bedlam rove abroad. Mr Paul Oakenfold, superstar DJ http://www.pauloakenfold.com/splash), was kind enough to take the ensign to Buenos Aires where he is pictured below in the studio. When I used to host the VIP bar at Heaven, then the world's greatest nightclub by a mile, in London's Charing Cross, he would take a break from the dj balcony in the huge main room to be entertained by some of our guest artists in the jam session I "organised" (ha!) up there - some, such as Nile Rodgers, Andrew Roachford,  acid jazz gang "Push", Salif Keita's band, the JBs (James Brown's crew) and a rolling cast of stars of the UK jazz scene (Ian Shaw, Steve Wellington, Philip Bent, Dylan Howe, Tony Remy, the brotherly rhythmic power-house of Pete and Steve Lewinson, plus a host of others) were a privilege to watch, others were so jaw-droppingly bad that it was also entertaining, but for wicked reasons. The lottery of what you'd be served was part of the fun.

Lord of the Rave, Oakie in the studio wearing his Bedlam motorcycle tee. Very rare, if not indeed unique shot of him mid-mix.

Nile, meanwhile, was busy on tour in Europe with Seal, Alison Moyet, John Miles and these red-hot sizzling Divas below. We are making him a white double breasted suit to wear on stage at the moment, in the most dazzling of Super 100 wool with Japanese Goldfish Shell buttons (no need to write in, we know goldfish don't have shells but the lustre of these buttons is seen to replicate the scales of that most fortuitously propitious of fishes). That other aquatically referenced creature, singing superstar Seal, was clearly taken with Mr Rodgers' rig-out and wanted a snap for his style album:

Seal snapping Nile in HIS Bedlam motorcycle club tee flanked by the Divas

Next to be enlisted into Bedlam's diplomatic corps was my old RADA class mate James Clyde who, having finished his run in the Young Vic's much lauded production of Hamlet with Michael Sheen, popped in to the store for a wardrobe change. He is currently in South Africa for three months filming for the BBC.

Actor James Clyde

Last of the Jazz Age babies, my papa achieved his 83rd birthday in January (born 1929). Here he is, with medals and monocle, wearing his Earl of Bedlam dinner waistcoat, about to set off to the annual dinner of the Worshipful Company of Tobacco Pipe Makers and Tobacco Blenders of which he is an honorary member:

A few years behind him is Harry Letts, who celebrated his first decade. Our commercial print division, Ocean Colour Screen, created a barcode of his name for his birthday t-shirt. If the present Great Depression means his parents can't afford to keep him, they can now scan their first-born at the supermarket check-out to get a fair and current value.

You may recall a few months back the visit from outer space by a gentleman not visibly feeling the pinch who bought con brio from  Bedlam. Here we are in his Mayfair office fitting some trousers in between discussing a forthcoming feature in one of his magazines. Phil roves the world in search of the finest money can buy. Mr Wesley is seen here in our "Signor Zoot" suit with new longer length jacket and tortoise shell buttons (unlike goldfish, tortoises do have shells, and I don't know they were too happy about it but we can make them little domed back suits to keep them warm) (we have some practise in this as my daddy's waistcoat, see above, had to allow for a little bump on his back).

Right, that's it for now as another blog, just like a London bus, is hot on the bumper of this one.

Our favourite publishing mogul has a fitting for his trousers

Season of Bounty, Thanks and Chic

We received an email late on Christmas night from a lady who had us make her hubbie a jacket and this is how it ran:
"It's a TRIUMPH! Wilf has never looked 'sharper', chic'er, thrilled to bits! Thank you both so so much for a superb job,
Very best wishes from us both for a flourishing 2012."

Truth to tell, I can't think of a more satisfying present we could have had.

Which is saying something considering the week previously the posty brought a charmingly exuberant card from Joanna Lumley, our local lovely. We had invited her to our Mulled Party knowing she would be unable to attend as the curtain had lately risen on her current theatrical project, "A Lion in Winter". But we wanted her to know she was included in spirit and then Ali, Age of Reason silk scarf impressaria, suggested we gift our glamourous  neighbour one of her Russian Doll creations. La Lumley was, she wrote the next day, "thrilled to bits" with "such an unexpected and glorious early Christmas present - you are very kind and very talented". Mr Wesley sleeps with this under his pillow now.

And thanks are due from us to all the hardy souls who braved the foul tempest the night of the Mulled Party at Bedlam - all the stalwart friends who support with their custom and the customers who have rewarded us with their friendship. It warms our hearts as well as the wine.

Godders testing the Mulled Wine in the tureen kindly leant by Henri's Café round the corner

David Colton, one of our exhibited artists and the genius who found at Lidl the ropes of lights that now adorn our sign  

The party saw the debut of Karen Morrison's jewellery at the store. While we were working out its display in the afternoon, Karen was looking at  Jenifer Corker's silver work. Jenifer has recently returned to her craft after an extended break and we are very proud to be stocking her. Karen realised that as a student of silver smithery she had swept up in Jenifer's studio, and now their work is side by side in Bedlam.

Karen Morrison whose jewellery we now stock with Kate the German nanny (wearing one of Maria PK's hats)

A selection of Karen's work:

See more on the fab website that clever Karen created herself: www.karenmorrisonjewellery.co.uk

Maria PK had been in the day before and arranged her and Brix's hats to lovely advantage:

Karen's other half Phil used to be in the music game same time as I. Indeed yours truly signed one of his bands to Partisan Records, and all these years later we're still on talking terms! Here he is modelling the Mr Fox overcoat with its optional collar:

Other old friends from the hood included Baron von Beck, pictured here next to Ricky, the gentleman who made our summer by approaching us at the London Zoo party to ask if we were not indeed Earl of Bedlam?! Together they demonstrate that EoB can outfit any shape or size -

At that moment, Santa's sleigh crossed the sky

Helen, one of our best customers, next to Anne Barclay - whose Snow Queen skirt suit starred in our Christmas window, oneself looking all oooh Betty and Deirdre Strath Clyde who was only in my class at RADA. She bought a Homberg for hubbie James, another of our class mates, currently playing Claudius to Michael Sheen's Hamlet at the Young Vic

Max Dursely Davies whose executioner masks and t-shirts we stock (he's wearing one of his) in between his friends who were game enough to come along. The lady bought one of Jenifer's "In Memoria Futuri" dog collar belts

The following Saturday lunchtime, another old music biz pal Angela Penhaligon, the l'il gal from Kansas, brought her band  - inc. washboard - Piney Girl along to play on Bedlam's platform. They had done a live spot on Resonance FM up the road in Borough, where the DJ Alberto Umbridge greeted them in one of our suits.

Piney Girl provided musical cheer the Saturday before Christmas

They had the cutest mini-amp

So with the decorations up we had the last few clients to dress their best for Christmas. William (below) proclaimed himself so delighted that he would be back for another suit in the New Year:

Next up was Eugene who used to "mind" Johnny Rotten but now babysits his new grand-daughter Treasure. I embroidered a babygrow for her and he was kind enough to be tickled with the result. It took me a long time, I was beginning to worry she'd be graduating before it was done (I also decided to line it with silk) but "where else but Bedlam can you get the Bayeux Tapestry for twenty quid?!" as Eugene bellowed.

Now Mark's made him something grown up size, a tweed jacket with leather trimmed pockets:

And to conclude in the vein of perfectly matched gift to recipient, we bowled over to a West London Hotel to see my dear friend Nile Rodgers - http://www.nilerodgers.com/ He flew in from Germany where he is on tour with Seal to do more BBC telly to promote his marvellous memoir "Le Freak" such as I have mentioned on this forum before. He was brave enough to entrust us with the merch for his UK Chic shows, and we used the photo from the dust jacket. Mark used a half tone technique - "Nile on the half tone and roller skates, rollers skates!" Good Times indeed.

Leon in our screen print room preparing the screen

Horton Jupiter, DJ, happy fan and first person to buy the Chic shirt!

We explained to Nile it was an old skool punk rock style run of tees, with the odd splodge and splat making them MORE covetable, a bit like the way you pay more for a potato with nodules these organic days. So as a token of gratitude for giving us the gig we inducted him into the Bedlam Motorcycle Club - but he's going to have to practice a bit harder before we let him join the band, Earl & the Bedlamites (OK, OK, he can sit in, calm down). A-ha, check this out for Seeing Double Delight:  http://bit.ly/sOi9so
(I've had the comfortable pleasure of staying in the Madonna Room).

Whoa! Getting the double down low on freaky Chic

So from our opening message of "never looked sharper or chic'er" to Mr Chic himself, we have dressed them all and had a ball. In case Nile forgets his dance steps we gave him a vintage copy (think it's safe to say it is out of print) of a disco manual, which he got to cribbing straight away in time for his breakfast TV interview:

And with a few days to go before they go back in the attic, here's a bunch of Bedlam baubles from us with all our best xoxox

Reclaim the economy! Shop local with us this Thursday

I meant to exhort those of you kind enough to read the blog to vote for Bedlam in the Daily Telegraph's poll of "Best Independent Shops in Britain" but voting closed at midnight last night. We moved house last week and are without domestic internet for another ten days, and you may recall my Blackberry was stolen a month or so back. At the shop we have a fragile hop-on Openzone internet. All of which combined to make "keeping up" with the blog even harder than normal. It was Megan, for whom we made a Barclays Bank boardroom appropriate dress and jacket, who Tweeted the first campaigning on our behalf. I noted it with a degree of pleasure not unduly hectic. But then something switched in my brain and turned all X-Factor competitive. Our hustings was Facebook, where most of Bedlam's activity is recorded. If you dally on that forum, our page is here:
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Earl-of-Bedlam/157642327606726

Still, we garnered a little clump of local endorsement - if exit polls are to be believed (check your favourite political stats on  www.hustings.com. ) One of my old school / band mates, Jeremy Deller, (together we changed the course of music in the "Avant Gardners"), when pressed on his vote confessed to having been stumped by the online form. "How did he ever win a Nobel prize if he couldn't manage that?!" queried Mr Wesley incredulous. Well that would be because he won a Turner Prize for which literacy is not required. I noted with some incredulity myself recently that on the Haywood Gallery's forthcoming schedule is young Deller's "Mid-Career Retrospective". MID-CAREER?! Who's half way through already??!! Feels like we just got started.

But for those who did manage, on Thursday night we shall stay open until 10pm in gratitude of the support and to warm our community's cockles with mulled wine (and in the hope that sufficiently fuzzy people might do a little seasonal shopping). As one of my friends in LA, and a fellow independent store owner (the boutique ME and Blue in Venice Beach, CA), posted recently, if you really want to occupy Wall Street and unseat the bankers (not wishing to lose Megan her job of course), shop local and pay cash! We are still on the hunt for some sort of electric samovar to keep the wine warm, not having a kitchen at the shop. If you have such a thing spare and handy please do alert us via the normal channels. What has arrived, the day after ordering no less, is a box of joy from the best supplier of stylishly antique adornments, Cox & Cox www.coxandcox.co.uk, full of traditional games, decorations and masks. Mr Wesley tried them all on and we agreed it was just plain creepy when he fixed Audrey Hepburn to his face. He was ecstatic with Ziggy Stardust and the illusion of high hair  (if you want to know what to buy him for Christmas, you wouldn't go far wrong with a toupée). Charlie Chaplin was the perfect fit with bowler hat and bushy brows.

"Cheap red wine from us will be cunningly disguised with spices and genuinely delicious panettone is to be generously provided by Mimi's Deli"

I voted myself in the Daily Telegraph poll and having nominated Earl of Bedlam in the menswear, babies and ladies categories that left a couple free for other local businesses:

Kennington Book Shop on the Kennington Road (for books); the redoubtable Blissetts hardware store on the Brixton Road (in the "Interiors" category); Marianna who works in the basement of the chiropodist on the Kennington Road (next to the book shop) for best Beauty / Salon treatment - her massage is the best I have had ever anywhere in the world; and Mimi's Deli on the corner of the Brixton / Prima Roads, across from the churchyard where the Saturday Farmers' Market is held. Mimi is going to provide some of her world class panettone on Thursday! Strangely I can't remember who I put as best wine supplier - of all things you'd think I'd recall, but it's just a blur, as I fear is our invitation above, but maybe it will sharpen up when I post in a moment. Oh! I remember, I nominated Gerry's on Old Compton Street for liquor - they are about the only place in London where you can find Mr Wesley's favourite Provencal pastis, Henri Bardouin. My first port of call was Fortnum & Mason's and what a fine and generous establishment that is to be sure, for the gentleman server called up Gerry's to ascertain they had it in stock to ensure I would not walk further in vain. That's the kinda service I'm talkin' about. We shall strive to emulate.

Hope to see you Thursday!

Heroes, local and from outer space, and the odd doorstep villain

One hesitates to make proclamations regarding turning corners but it seems less of a come-on to Fate's contrary caprice than would be announcing an "unstoppable upward trajectory". When a local family came in back over the summer, the husband admired the poacher's jacket and said that come Autumn he might be in the mood / market for that. So not long after our Fashion Week presentation at Mansion House, I went through our visitors book, extracted the telephone number his daughter had written there and cold called. Trying to sound like a seasoned boutique owner ringing her best client to announce something quite perfect and only for them has arrived in store, I found myself reminding Tristan just who I was, from what shop, where, and mumble-fumbling about new pieces we had made that he might like, extremely sorry to disturb, thank you, bye.

In the meantime, we continued to have support from other local quarters, in the form of day to day encouragement and commissions such as this delicious chocolate birds eye tweed suit below that we made in record time for Mr Ian Taylor to wear to the Frankfurt Book Fair. He was representing his own publishing company - Ian Taylor Associates - and reading between the lines, it seemed he wanted to be empowered in a subtle and distinguished way. He confessed it was some years since he had invested in new duds and was nervous lest we try and push him down some trendy route that he was tensed not to tread. We reassured him that it was our duty to serve his requirements, not foist our own fancies upon him and little by little he relaxed into the process until we reached the rewarding moment when he proclaimed he had throroughly enjoyed the evolution of his new toggery. He returned from Frankfurt with a folder full of deals which we shan't presume to assign to our suit but will say that feeling your tip top best is the ideal way to enter into negotiations. Here he is (below) having worn it to Chelsea Football Club, where he was seated in Mr Abramovich's box no less, an invitation that has Mr Wesley's arms crossed in defence, he being a lifelong Gunner. The following week Mrs Taylor came in to order something to wear to her sport of choice - the ballet.

Along from the Borough, a neighbouring quartier of currently hip credentials, next came Vincent, DJ at Resonance 104.4 FM http://resonancefm.com/faq
A radio station of unimpeachable musical integrity, Vincent is their expert broadcaster and journalist on Congolese music. Have a read of this to get a handle on just what a cool cat he is: http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/musicblog/2011/mar/22/congo-staff-benda-billi-kinshasa
He came primarily to introduce us to the sterling talents of Jenifer Corker, his long time friend who is relaunching her silversmithing. Without hesitation we agreed to stock her jewellry some of which Vincent is displaying below. Straight away I invested in a piece for myself, a silver band engraved with a motto of inspiring forward thinking and optimism: "In Memoria Futuri" - in memory of the future. Her work has serious attitude tempered with finesse.

Vincent of Resonance FM displaying the work of silversmith Jenifer Corker, who looks on

While we were also admiring the pedigree belts Jenifer makes from stamped dog collars, previously stocked in Harrods, (pictures to follow), Vincent slipped into the Ginger Chutney suit that has been waiting patiently for its Raja to come. It fitted like a crystal slipper and he next chose the lining to seal the fit. Two weeks later he returned to collect it:

Jenifer's belts and jewellry are in addition to a range we already carry, http://www.leatherloop.co.uk/, that is made in South America. They offer gaucho detail at terrific value, for not everyone is in the market for a suit. I always fancied the platform outside the store doubling as a corral with a sign saying "Tether ponies and Harleys here".

Then Tristan (see top of this story) walked like Clint Eastwood back through our door. He did indeed place an order for the poacher's jacket, but with his own choice of jacquard lining and opting for plaited leather buttons over horn. He also went for the waistcoat and moleskin trousers in our signature cut of deep-placket-loser-cut-round-thighs-narrowing-to-ankle.

Tristan (centre) in his python skin jacket flanked to the left by his wife Leanne (pka "Flame" of the Gladiators TV show) in her  mother-in-law's leopard skin coat (made in Bournemouth, you get a lotta leopards down there) and Mr Wesley, to his right, in our new screen printed knitwear, here the Jolly Peasants carouse across finest Merino wool

Then Tristan told a friend about what we could do, a Chelsea glamazon who duly crossed the river to bravely seek us out. There was barely suppressed panic (on all sides) when she went too far up the Clapham Road and was driving about Stockwell in the Range Rover but we guided her in and measured her up for a hunting jacket, breeches, mini skirt, cape and flat cap. Here we are at the first fitting stage:

If you were a grouse you'd just jump into her arms non?

Buying the roll of butter soft Ermenegildo Zegna tweed was one of the smartest things we ever did, as it has now yielded the Poacher's jacket with matching waistcoat; the winter overcoat for Godmother Elisabeth; Tristan's jacket and waistcoat; and the hunting ensemble for our International Style Ambassadress. Here's our best pal Taffy wearing the waistcoat as he orders up his decadely birthday wardrobe refreshment with Mr Wesley:

Then one Saturday afternoon a few weeks back, I was at my desk embroidering a babygrow when a space ship of a car glided into the bay outside the store. I had a sense of being watched through the black windows and inclined my head in what I perceived to be a winsome, welcoming manner. It glided on. I shrugged and went back to chain-stitching the name of Johnny Rotten's erstwhile minder's granddaughter, "Treasure" across the brushed cotton of the little pink popper suit. A man and two ladies walked in. Having double-took-checked that it was not in fact Johnny Depp, I soon established that they had been aboard the space ship. The gentleman had significant presence and was, I remarked, of the same build as Mark who invariably makes up our samples in his own size - so on the rare occasions we do mingle in society, he can be a walking calling card for our wares. Hence it transpired that everything the cool customer put on, fitted. Mannequin after mannequin was denuded. I had to ask for his assistance in deconstructing the window display. While he went downstairs to try yet something else I called Mark at home and suggested he walk round promptly while I struggled to find carrier bags big enough to carry all the man had bought: the Green Indian suit, the Mr Fox overcoat, the double-breasted pinstripe, the puddle-proof trousers and more.

Mark in the Mr Fox overcoat with his little cub

Turned out the mystery shopper is the owner of a luxury goods magazine. Only that morning our landlord had apprehended Mark, saying darkly that he wanted to see some money sharpish. So it was with a smirk in my stride that I walked our dazzling customer into the dry cleaners where we process card payments (it is an eccentric but efficient arrangement that stops us blowing the rent). 

"Yippeeee!" said Mr Wesley afterwards, "This means we can make this, and this and this and that and that AND that!" 

"Now love," I said, wishing I wasn't, "this means we have covered our rent arrears and have a little in hand."

Just the sort of craftsman that our lucky touch client's magazine (I remain circumspect for a reason and hopefully but temporarily) would admire is Jason Amesbury, who was extraordinarily generous and trusting when he let us borrow his bespoke riding and ankle boots for the Mansion House installation. Jason was previously the head shoemaker at Lobb & co. A pair of shoes takes six months to make, and it is an accordingly costly process. Lasts are hewn from solid lumps of wood using traditional tools and they even make the string with which the soles are stitched out of fibres and beeswax. If you would like a referral we would be most happy to effect an introduction.

Jason with a shoe that's almost done. I really liked the splotches of yellow darning on his jumper

The bench where the lasts are chopped then whittled

Somebody I'm in no hurry to see again however is the low life loser who half-inched my Blackberry off the desk while pretending to admire the fox stoles. I stood up to usher him back into the open space of the room, getting some weird and not altogether good vibe. Then he threw me by asking, "What have you got that's new?" that immediately made me think perhaps he had been in before... otherwise what would it matter. From the rail I picked out and held up our newest print, "Street Life" with a scene of a portly gentleman on a Victorian thoroughfare. The text is written as calligraphy and I read the beginning of it aloud:
"Beware, pickpockets and prostitutes operate in this area."
To my astonishment the man announced he found that "offensive". Indeed, he thought a lot of people would find it offensive and hesitate to buy it. "Dude, " I challenged, "you have GOT to be kidding me?!"
Now if I had two brain cells I would have found the ensuing volte face when he said he would take it to be somewhat odd, a commercial non sequitur. But so thrilled am I by every sale, however large or small, that I blanked out the inconsistency and began wrapping while he claimed to be getting cash from the machine next door. A few minutes went by, and a few more. I glanced down at my desk where my Blackberry had been. My stomach flipped as I realised I had been stitched up like a kipper. The only karmic consolation I took was that the day after the Blackberry network crashed for the best part of a week. I half expected him to walk back in and throw it at me complaining "Piece of rubbish, doesn't hardly work!"

So turning corners doesn't preclude the odd pot hole but all in all the camber of late has been smooth for Bedlam's rickety wagon.

Our "offensive" t-shirt warning of the prevalence of pickpockets