Cruising in his rather tempting new-way suit with a long tunic would be nigh on impossible. Rick once told me he took walks around Hampstead Heath (north London gay cruising area), looking for sex. We went out that night and Antony said I smelled like fist. It doesn’t make any sense, but that’s what we’re saying.

So, ergo, buy these clothes and reach another realm, like the mythical city of Beimeni, where you can drink from the fountain of youth while wearing peach suits and tight tops. And even if you’re not, fantasy is a far more fascinating prospect than real life because, as we all know, real life is, like, totally shit and that. And if you’re a 6ft 4in wank god, then that’s good. These clothes were made for fashion shoots and living in fashion shoots. In an “everything else looked a bit shit in comparison” way and real life suddenly looked tr è s, tr è s boring. Chiselled is the new honed, which is definitely the new thin, or something like that. A quick flick through revealed, thankfully, wipe-down pages that contained various chiselled wank gods in various states of undress (ie nude ie wankable). I said to that Antony Miles at this here place of work, I said, “You’ll be keeping that then”, as he picked up the art-verging-on-porn fashion magazine Brother of Arcadia that Nicola Formichetti had created and then kindly left on our seats at the Mugler show in Paris. Actually, that’s not fair, all of this has happened at one time or another, but not necessarily in this order.

Just so you know, 73.7% of the following is fiction. This is possibly the most brilliant and in no way rushed piece of writing you’ll read all year.

Diarly and row are same