5 Recent Reasons Why Apple Inc is on the Way Down

                              5 Recent Reasons Why Apple Inc is on the Way Down

Apple Inc was a company which was loved. I mean really loved. Such a fan-base was hard to find in the typically cold, sterile, ever-vicious technology market of the nineties and noughties. 

However, from being the ‘cooky, a la mode alternative’, Apple’s products quickly surged to become market leaders. This sudden dominance not only made them richer than the US Government Treasury but also made them lose their identity and obvious market niche of ‘not-being Monopoly-Microsoft’. When they became larger than they imagined, without an obvious competitor to catch-up to and with the passing of Mr Jobs, it all started to unravel somewhat....

1. iPad Mini

Who doesn’t love blatant hypocrisy? Usually the perpetrators are government ministers promising they won’t do X in their pre-election speeches. Then, lo and behold, X is brought -in within a year of them being elected. The public sigh and lose even greater faith. Repeat ad infinitum.

It comes then as quite a shock that Apple has recently brought out the iPad Mini. Not only because everyone was expecting a better name than ‘Mini’, but because former Apple champion Steve Jobs was once quoted as saying: 

“Seven-inch tablets are tweeners: too big to compete with a smartphone and too small to compete with the iPad. ….Seven-Inch tablets are dead on arrival....There are clear limits of how close you can place physical elements on a touch screen, before users cannot reliably tap, flick or pinch them. This is one of the key reasons we think the ten-inch screen size is the minimum size required to create great tablet apps.”

Not only that. I mean, not only has Mr Jobs been proved cataclysmicly incorrect (just look at how good the Nexus and the Kindle Fire are doing). But this product foundation was further collaborated by Apple’s new CEO Tim Cook, who during the all-hands Q4 financial results call stated:

“On comments that Steve made before about 7 inch tablets, let me be clear, we would not make one of the 7 inch tablets, we don’t think they’re good products, we’d never make one.”

Unbelievable lying! So the 7.9” iPad Mini then is therefore “not good” and “dead on arrival”.  Who wants to spend £269 on one....anyone?

2. Mountain Lion was Still a Suckling Cub when it was Released into the Wild.

An Apple operating system (OS) is typically very, very good. I’m writing this on Snow Leopard. A beautiful, sleek, endangered species of operating system - one that’s so quiet and cooperative - you don’t hear any noise when it’s hunting...I mean working. The old Apple philosophy for an OS was ‘keeping throwing money into R&D, make it quicker, more intuitive and only release it when people are gagging for it.’ 

Old Apple knew that to maximise sales; demand has to be at its highest. For example, there was just under two years between the release of Leopard and Snow Leopard. And, on the whole, the successor did not disappoint. Any period of time significantly less than two years and the product appears rushed and the public infer that you are fire-fighting and trying to cover up a problem. So then, when there was only 370 days between Lion and its protege Mountain Lion, people knew something was afoot.

To quote the first (and most helpful) review from Mac’s own App Store:

Worst. *

17-Oct-2012

“I don’t understand Apple. Why bring this out, and make people pay for it and all it does is mess up the machine? So many programs I have don’t work now. I’ve been an Apple user for the last seven years and now I’ve decided to go back to PC. Apple have really let me down and others also judging by the reviews. It makes no sense at all.” 

There we go. The moral of the story is, if your competitor is about to release it’s latest rival product after three expensive years of R&D (Windows 8), don’t rush yours and just ‘throw it out there’. Bide your time and only try and sell something when it’s worthy of buying.

3. The Constant War of (Legislative) Attrition

Many people are speculating over the start of World War Three. They’re all wrong. It’s already here. Sure, there are no bombs, bullets or battlefields - this war is being fought in the courtroom.

The Apple v Nokia v Samsung v Microsoft battle continues to simmer. Finland, South Korea and the USA fight it out over patents, technicalities and who slid-to-unlock first.

The fact that a company fights to protect its own copyrightable material is great. It shows pride, common sense and proves the old adage that the best things in life are worth fighting for. 

However, Apple in its waxing period was vehemently ruthless in ‘liberating’ ideas from other companies. It is now only since Apple is now in the Premier League of cooperations that it takes the moral high-ground. It won’t allow other companies to use the same tactics through which it achieved greatness. As Mr Jobs was often quoted as saying: 

“Picasso had a saying - 'good artists copy, great artists steal' - and we have always been shameless about stealing great ideas.”

For another example of hypocrisy, please re-read point one.

4. Lack of Originality

Aluminium, golden ratios and glass screens. All of these have been around for years. Why o why then has Apple Inc not updated its design? Sir Jonathan Ive is one of the leading figures of British design of the last century: Akin to James Dyson, George Carwardine, Alec Issigonis and many, many others.

But, like many, I fear a case of Alex Ferguson-itis occurring in sunny California: Staying longer than the welcome as the creative juices have dried up (hence the need to bring out such banal inventions as the ‘Mini’ iPad....)

The products that used to be released by Apple changed the world. The iPod re-invented music and its consumption forever. Where is the pizazz, the wow-factor of old?

Even the toy company Fisher Price have re-designed their phones:

No major new products means no new major injections of cash.

5. iOS 6 Maps 

Where to start? I mean, I don’t know where to start because I’m lost - thanks to iOS 6 Maps application.

A lot of keys have been depressed writing about how poor this software is. And, let’s fact it, Apple only released it so they wouldn’t have to give Google the satisfaction of paying them for usage of their superior software. 

To epitomise how bad it is, here’s a picture I found on the Interwebs demonstrating this point:

                                                             quod erat demonstrandum.

Under the Coffee Table

It's that time again.

That once-every-seven-years when the hoomins decide to make loud noises out of their usual realm: To venture to Outside and watch the bright colours and the horrendous, ghastly noises.

The Outside noises are worse than the upright noise-machine they sometimes use: not because of the volume, but because of the sheer randomness and the frequency. At least my masters have the decency and politeness to warn me about the upright noise-machine, (usually by shooing or verbal communication).

These 'foi-yer-work-es' as I believe they are called, are offensive. When they go off on a day which is not the specified day (i.e. any time from hoomin 'Ok-toe-bear' to 'Jhan-you-erry' [as I believe they are written]), I get tormented and patronised when they see me cowering under the coffee table. I do genuinely appreciate my masters' concern, but they cannot hear the horror and more specifically, the ringing, going-on inside my head.

Although hoomins are the master race with superior anatomical dexterity and gladly feed me many delectable treats - they do have one flaw: Their hearing in comparison to mine and others of my species is what can only be described as 'piss-poor'. If they could hear the high-pitched whistling screeches that pierce my ears, they'd be cowering too, and certainly not venture to Outside in the cold and wet to watch those blasted things. Torture.

For what reason do these noise and light projectiles pierce our beautiful starry sky? From half-cut table-talk I've eavesdropped during a belated November dinner party, I am led to believe it has something to do with a hoomin many ages ago who wanted to destroy a big house full of powerful masters. Why such a tradition has lived for so long is difficult to understand, but then again - I'm not in charge... No thumbs.

If this hoomin is celebrated in this way with a seven-yearly festival, then why is this Bin-Larrden hoomin? Am I not correct in thinking he ventured a similar plot? (N.B: I am also perplexed as to why they would name a person after the box that I am not allowed to rummage through.)

Listening to many hoomin conversations has raised a further question that is something of an irony. From the rants and the under-the-breath mutterings (that's right, I can hear) of my masters about polyticks (which aren't to be mistaken with fleas); I understand that they would all love to destroy this parlyement house, but continue to celebrate the execution of someone who didn't...

Hoomins...I will never understand thee.

Don’t call me misogynistic, but I’d rather see Sophie Dahl nude than people spewing food.

As a post-graduate art historian, I’m used to studying the female form and being twenty-something with a Y chromosome; I have a keen eye for its detail. There is a time and a place for nudity, for titillation, and for appreciating its magnificence and its symmetry. Both art and architecture aspire to be as flowing, as inspired and as beautiful as the curves and proportions of Venus.

Ingres, Manet, Titian, Cabanel and Botticelli are the big five when it comes to famous artistic portrayals of the female nude (or ‘slutty hooker’ in Manet’s case). Their art works are timeless because beauty itself is timeless. It comes then as quite a shock to learn that Yves Saint Laurent’s advert for its new ‘Opium’ perfume is; as The Telegraph reports - the eighth most complained about advert of all time. Why so? I mean, sure, she’s unclothed but she’s nude, not naked. She is portrayed to not be aware of the viewer’s gaze which is the defining difference between the two: The knife-edge between risqué elegance and sheer pornography.

Sophie Dahl may not be everyone’s ‘odalisque of choice’ in the model stakes, but her figure is charming, slender and youthful – perfect for wide-angled billboards across the country. My only complaint is that she doesn’t do more modelling – if that’s what it takes for her to NOT appear as a ‘celebrity TV chef’.  When she appeared on BBC2, she tarnished my respect for the Beeb. To quote the old sporting adage, she had “all the gear and no idea”. 

With all this said, I wonder how many of the thousands who complained about Miss Dahl also complained about KFC’s horrific thirty seconds of public relations suicide –  An advert showing office workers singing with their mouths full. That’s right; you know the thing your mother taught you never to do? They did it then shoved it in your face around tea-time. Less ‘finger-licking-good’ and more ‘fingers-down-throat vulgarity’. Thankfully, my respect for the British public has been restored by the fact that this horror show has now become the most complained about advert ever thanks to nearly half-a-million prim and proper gentlefolk.   Manners are thus more important than morals – God Bless you Britain.

The Top 10 Signs That Indicate You've Been Formally Accepted into Someone's Family

Evening kids.

I havent blogged in a while as the pressures of working full time and trying to study hard enough for an MA are pretty huge. However, in an attempt of procrastination, here's a bloggoweb.

I've been living with my lovely girlfriend and her parents in their house for almost seven months now. It was tentative at first, now today I feel officially part of the family. Here's why in a blog I call:

The Top 10 Signs That Indicate You've Been Formally Accepted into Someone's Family.

In reverse order

10 You feel as if you can make them a cup of tea and it wouldn't be weird.

9 You've met some friends of the family.

8 You know how everyone likes their tea.

7 You can cook for them in their kitchen.

6 You know where EVERYTHING lives in their kitchen and the specific order that bowls / dishes have to be stacked in, in order for kitchen doors to close.

5 You don't feel guilty picking up the home phone

4 You're at ease opening the front door, to someone who isn't obviously the post-man.

3 It's socially acceptable to put things that you like on their shopping list.

2 You get included in the names of Christmas cards.

1 You go to the toilet, but before you can lock the door, the family cat is inside the bathroom with you. Instead of freaking out and ushering it out like a good guest, you duly lock the door, have a wee, it parades around your feet and then waits for you to finish washing your hands and then politely stares at you; asking you to unlock the door with a single look. You then duly leave thinking that all of this is completely normal and when quizzed about it...No-one cares because, 'yeah, she does that sometimes.'

Awesome

Love to all.

Twenty Five Things I’ll Never Understand

With the recent news that Zurich-based petro-chemical company Petroplus is on the verge of bankruptcy, it made me ponder other things I don’t understand. Surely there’s always a demand for petrol right?

                     

1 Why Katy Perry ever thought it would be a good idea to get married to Russell Brand.

2 Why big ‘geek-chic’ thick-framed glasses are a la mode. You look like a tool. You probably don’t even need to wear glasses. If necessity dictated that you had to wear glasses of some description; you wouldn’t choose ones that weighed a ton and squished your nose. 

3 When and where to use a semi-colon and where to use an actual colon.

4 Why in recent months China is more capitalistic than the USA. (China’s populous are rioting over the delay of the new iPhone product release, whereas the Americans are trying to censor and restrict the Internet in a rather totalitarian way.) 

5 How television production company Endemol is £2.3bn in debt, when the British public have had to suffer ten series worth of Big Brother which would’ve brought them loads of money. 

6 Olber’s Paradox. (The idea that if the universe is filled with a near infinite number of galaxies each with an infinite number of stars then why is the sky not incredibly bright?)

7 Why the Coen brothers are still allowed to direct films. Their films are like this sentence, they don’t have an...

8 How the good British people invented trains, football, MP3 players, the Internet, steel production, calculus, and the jet engine...and why we’re now shit at making the most of them. 

9 Why Steve Jobs has been idolised. He wasn’t Farraday, Curie or Dirac.

10 Why in university education, the number of contact hours with academic staff is inversely proportional to the importance of the year of study. 

11 How the British people haven’t rioted over the over-taxation of fuel....yet.

12 Why nurses, social workers and our armed forces don’t get paid more. The vast majority do a brilliant job every single day for less than your average call-centre-monkey.

13 Who Kim Kardashian is, or for that matter, why she’s famous for being it.

14 How a person can allow themselves to reach a weight which leads them to being juxtaposed to a marine mammal. I weigh 16 stone and I’m self-conscious about it. How the hell do you get to 40 stone without thinking ‘mmmm, I think I better put the fork down now.’

15 Why people with lots of money buy conceptual art. If a toddler can make it, it’s not art: it belongs in a f*ckin’ nursery.

16 How Apple got away with storing iPhone users’ geographic movement data for years, apparently without realising. Then, to have the cheek to say ‘oops, we didn’t realise’ when they were caught. Seriously? That’s a hell of a lot of data.

17 Why women don’t realise the beauty industry is based more on Adobe’s Photoshop, than on science or ‘Bifidus Nutrisse Ultra-Shine GlossMax Micropore Digestivum’.

18 Why every single British government have tried to ‘re-design’ the NHS since its inception. Stop faffing around and just give it more money! Silly MPs - you won’t be in power to see your proposals go through anyway!

19 How Bruce Forsyth is still alive. (It’s depressing he’s physically fitter than I am, despite the fact he’s wiser by 60 years.)

20 How you could ever think that it would be a good idea to shag your sister-in-law. Then continue to do so for eight years. Ryan Giggs anyone? 

21 Why Madeleine McCann’s parents haven’t been arrested for child negligence. They abandoned their child in a locked room so they could go out drinking with their yuppy friends whilst on holiday. What did they expect would happen? 

22 How the cinema-viewing public CAN’T find Keira Knightley annoying. She needs acting lessons and a food source. FAST. Wait...there’s a poor food pun there....QUICKLY.

23 The need for people to put grated carrot on salads.

24 Why Hotmail accounts haven’t been quarantined in some Chernobyl/Pripyat style humanitarian operation due to the sheer volume of computer viruses that live therein. It’s a bloody write-off isn’t it?

25 Why it’s so hard to find a job in Berkshire.

Thanks for reading.

'Common Sense' 0 - 0 'Recruitment'

Walking back from an informative and thoroughly engaging Art History lecture on the prominent works of Eugene Delacroix, I decided to return the missed call/voicemail message which was left on my phone whilst I was engaged therein.

                                             The conversation is near enough verbatim.

PE: Hello, I had a missed call from this number...?

C: Hello, oh right. Who is it? How are you?

PE: I'm ok thanks, it's Paul Edwards

C: Hi Paul, yes yes, I remember now.

PE: Right. So...who are you?

 C: I'm Charlotte and I work for Pareto Law, the recruitment company and I wanted to get in contact with you regarding the graduate position you applied for.

(It's important to note here readers, that before I returned the call, I Googled the telephone number and the first five forum comments regarding the subject 'who is calling me?' answered with the phrasing: "Pareto Law, they're a scam recruitment company, tell them to politely **** off. Complete time wasters". Their website says that they specialise in recruitment for sales roles, which to me is like applying to shovel shit.  Alas, I was more than sceptical hippo about this company even before I pressed 'call'.)

PE: (I've recently applied for more jobs than I care to [or can] remember, so on the off-chance that it was kosher, I enquired more about the position, to jog my memory / weasel something out of them) Sorry, what's the exact job title and location again?

C: Well, it's..um..a graduate position.

PE: And where is it based?

C: Um... where are you based?

PE: Wait..what? You can't answer a question with another question. Where's the job based?

C: Well, we're a nationwide company.

PE: I get that. I'm based near Reading. (Which is the third thing listed on my C.V: After the words 'Curriculum Vitae' and my name! More alarm bells were ringing.)

C: OK, that's good.

PE: Quick question for you.

C: Sure.

PE: Did I actually apply for this 'graduate role' or did you just speculatively  fish my CV from somewhere?

C: Our records have your CV.

PE: But did I actively apply for this job, because it doesn't sound like me.

C: We found your CV on Jobsite I think.

PE: Right, that makes sense. [Feeling like a barrister at this point]

                         ...Awkward pause.

C: So...are you actively looking for a job, what's your employment background?

PE: Well..if you had my CV, you'd know my employment background inside-out  but yes I am; on a part-time basis because I'm a post-graduate student.

C: Oh right. Well, the positions are only on a full-time basis, so unfortunately we wouldn't be able to offer you one of the graduate positions.

PE: How can I be disappointed at something I didn't apply for? If the job was full-time, I wouldn't have applied for it. (Coming to the boil) And if you actually read my CV, you'd see that I was a part-time student and so would NEVER apply for a full-time role.

C: Ok....well.

PE:  It's all there, black and white, clear as crystal! You stole fizzy lifting drinks. You bumped into the ceiling which now has to be washed and sterilized, so you get nothing! You lose! Good day sir! 

(OK, so maybe I didn't say the last bit, but I did end it with an assertive 'Good Day'.)

           
                                                                       -

So there you go kids. Another stressful phone conversation. They really are a recurring theme of my life I feel (see previous bloggo entries). I wish to point out here that the other PROFESSIONAL recruitment consultants I've dealt with have been lovely, intelligent and human. I really do pity call-centre monkeys and the shit they have to shovel.

Night All.

I'll blog more, I promise.

Thank God for BHS

Evening everyone. Being a freelance writer (and a free one) has allowed me the flexibility to not blog in a while. To you my readers, I apologise. 

I ask you a straight forward question? Where are all the brown shoes? SERIOUSLY? Upon purchasing a lovely tan/dark-olivey coloured linen suit from Moss for a friend’s upcoming wedding, I obviously set about to find a pair of smart brown leather shoes as I only had a pair of smart blacks. Sounds simple enough right? 

For those of you who aren’t familiar with Gloucester City centre, imagine the worst of sixties architecture interspersed with chavs circa 2005. The shopping experience is also closer to Ziggy Stardust than the Arctic Monkeys.

First stop for some nice chestnut loafers (or an adequate substitute) Marks and Sparks. 

After traipsing through the lingerie section (Shops - “Y U NO make men feel comfortable when they walk through them?”) to locate the stairs to shoot up to the men’s section, I found myself a little underwhelmed. A sea of striped polo shirts (see previous article) on beiegey Dr-Who-monster-esque mannequins confronted me which proved me right. ^Insert little internal smug chuckle^. The shoe section was nearly as horrific as the ‘summer casual’ display. Smart shoes galore, lace ups, loafers, brogues, pointy toes, square toed, leathers, suedes...one small problem...all of them black. Except the sandals which were brown....so yeah, all of the viable options...were black. 

A young lad emerged with a trolley of boxes and crates with mens shoes and started tagging some and placing them on the shelves.

“‘Scuse me mate, are these the only brown shoes you’ve got?”

(started looking through his trolley like a snooty, nosey, slummy mummy in Tescos)

“Yeah, I think so, I’ll have a look for you though”

He returned, but to no avail. His gallant efforts of finding some lovely calf-skin beauties were dashed. He went on to explain that most of the brown shoes had been sold in the sale and that they were expecting a new lot in next week (typical? So typical it’s almost unrealistic!?!). I explained that the wedding was in exactly a week’s time. We bonded over how stock was cyclical and that it’s really hard to get what you want on time. He was chatting about shoes; I was chatting about parts for aircraft hydraulics...it was all kinda the same. After an exchange of pleasantries I went on my merry way quite shocked that only 4 of the 80 or so available pairs of shoes were brown.

Two shops down, ‘Priceless Shoes’. Worth a punt? With good music blaring into my skull courtesy of Mr Sennheisser, I popped in to see whether this new shop was as good as its predecessor, Bacon’s Shoes. Good would not be a word I would associate with Priceless Shoes. Tasteless Shoes would probably be more apt. I would describe the ambience and decor of the store as that of Lidl, but that really would be demeaning to my favourite German supermarket. At least their products are efficiently organised. In theory it was meant to be arranged like Brantano  - shoes in pairs, on racks, ordered by size. the Mens shoes I picked up were sized as follows:

6,7,6,8,11,12,9,9,9,8,9.

Great. No tens. No strike, not even a bloody spare! After being quite disgusted at the tackiness of the women’s shoes, I felt that even if I did find a pair which was my size / colour / desired level of formality - the quality wouldn’t really live up to much. And if I’m having to dance in these bad boys - they’ve gotta be able to handle the pace. 

Round the corner, past the charity anglers (that’s charity guys fishing for money, not anglers fishing for charity), around the tweenage clique drinking frappacinos and into Clarks. I’ve always been apprehensive about Clarks. I mean, I don’t understand it as a brand - much like W H Smiths. It’s not really sure what its niche is, and who it’s aiming it at. 

After being aware that I immediately brought the average age down by about 8 points, I drift to the mens section; try on a gorgeous pair of mens chestnut lace up standard mens shoes. Comfy squishy bits on the inside, absolutely gorgeous... £75 down to £55. I could cope with that as they felt divine.

I approach a man in a polo shirt with an ear-piece /microphone thing. Imagine a lanky white guy pretending to be a nightclub bouncer but being surrounded by 60 year old males and their wives rather than 18 to 30s and you’ve got the picture. 

He radios upstairs to his colleague (I assume?) and a few moments later he hands me a white box before addressing the large queue in front of him near the till. 

I open the box to discover that one shoe is comparatively smaller than the other. Look under the tongue - UK 8. Fail. 

“Are they ok sir?”

“I’m sure they would be if they were a pair of tens, but they’re averaging a nine at the moment”

“Excuse me, I don’t understand?”

“They’re not a pair. This one’s a ten, this one’s an eight.”

“Oh, I’m very sorry” 

Takes box, Radio Ga-Ga’s the store room elves again. Brief pause.

“Here you go sir, I’ve ensured that they’re the right size this time.”

“Thank you very much”.

Try on shoes. Notice that one of the shoes is considerably more worn than the other. Not tatty per se, just....the leather had ridges in it. Not cracking, but not smooth either. You get me? Had the texture more of a sieve than a polished granite worktop if that helps at all. I was losing patience by this point...

“Excuse me”

Bouncer man leans over, intrigued.

“Do you have any tens which haven’t been pre-worn?”

“What do you mean pre-worn? They’re all new shoes in this shop sir.”

“Look at the leather. It’s cracking and well distinguished. I appreciate someone may have tried them on, but they’ve walked to bloody Cheltenham and back in ‘em.” 

“Oh, I see what you mean, it doesn’t look great does it?”

This kid’s rhetoric wasn’t helping the sale (and Cheltenham is about 9miles away from Glozza for those of you who aren’t local).

“Well sir, we don’t have any more of these in tens in stock at the moment.”

“Right”

“But we can order some for you, which will be delivered to your home address”

“Sounds good, what’s the delivery date? Because it’s imperative I have them in my hands, and preferably on my feet by Friday, they’re for a wedding”

“Well they normally come within two weeks, but special delivery for £4.99 normally guarantees them within four to five working days.”

“Ok...so you’re telling me that I would have to pay five pounds extra because you fail to have adequate stock of the shoes I wish to buy even though I’ve come in at my own expense, and even then they might not be delivered on time?”

“I’m afraid so..”

“I don’t think you’ll see me again in here. Good day.”

Storming exit. Nearly get run over by a pram. Look around to the find the next shop which would sell men’s brown shoes. At this point I thought I was going insane and was trying to find Jack Daniels in Saudi Arabia or an Ice Hotel in Arizona. But no, simple commodities are hard to find in Gloucester. Social deprivation on the other hand...

Topman. 

What to say about Topman? I mean, it’s changed drastically since I was a yoof. It used to be trendy t shirts and good quality jeans. Now its merely a museum to a specific subculture sometimes labelled ‘hipster’ or ‘dickhead’. I mean, I appreciate it’s not my bag, but man-bags...you’ve gotta be kidding me?! Thumbing-through the items on the sale rail, I was quite shocked to discover none of the trousers were larger than a 34” waist and the t-shirts larger than a medium? To this day I’m still unsure whether I was just late to the party or whether Topman just doesn’t appreciate my *cough* athletic *cough* physique.

Finally reached the shoes which were beautifully presented to their credit. Numerous styles in gorgeous leather of many colours....Not bad. All the brown, smart shoes - Winkle-pickers. GET IN!! Exactly what I want with my extra-wide size tens! Headphones come off. Scratch head. Look around with a gaunt, horrified sense of WTF...

“Can I help you sir?”

“Um...yeah, do you have any brown shoes which aren’t these *points*. ?

“I’m afraid not. Everything we have is out. Sorry. What are you looking for?”

“A sort of loafer, brogue, anything that’s wide-fit and brown to be honest.”

“Yeah, I get ya. I know that you mean about the brown, they’re getting rarer.”

“I thought it was just me! I’m glad someone else has noticed it!’

“Na, it’s not just you. I’ve been asked been before and found trouble myself.’

“Exactly! It makes no sense because non-black suits and creamy chinos are so in at the moment.” I protest too much. 

“Yeah, totally. Well, I’m sorry I can’t help you, but gimme a shout if you need anything else.”

We go our separate ways but at least the bloke had restored my faith in the fact that some staff in fashion outlets actually understand how clothes and outfits work. 

Head towards the exit, scan the t-shirts...nothing funny....go down the stairs. Inevitably held up by a middle-aged guy in front of me also holding onto the handrail for dear life.

‘Mmmm, I thought...he looks well dressed. Smart dark blue chinos, tan suede shoes, baggy but comfy jumper. Good job sir, I’m glad there’s still some fashion sense in males over forty but as he turned the corner of the staircase, I saw it. My pupils dilated and stood speechless. A black belt around his middle appeared, and then as he made the corner, I noticed the black satchel on his tummy. A bumbag... in 2011. HE WAS DOING SO WELL!!!! I didn’t know what to think. The only thought which came into my mind was BullsEye host Jim Bowen saying “Here’s what ya coulda won!”

Congratulations Topman, you’ve successfully niched yourself out of the market. 

I leave exasperated and desperate for a place of refuge. A shop. Any shop. Anything to get the horrific sight out of my conscious.... I jitter about, walking, Sennheissers on, in the zone, scanning for other shops. BHS. Boom. Fudge it, that’ll do. 

As I mount the escalator of desperation I began to realise that I haven't frequented BHS since I came here with me mum shopping for new school trousers. After chuckling to myself and a quick nostalgic bubble, I find myself in the men’s section. B-E-A-Yootiful. Not only was it well designed; but the huge ‘Burton’ logo informed me, albeit in a succinct fashion that their menswear was designed/provided by Burtons. Good stuff. Always been a fan, and even more so after Mr Topman clearly doesn’t like cheese and wine as much as I do. 

The Holy Grail was in front of me. A rack of wide, chunky brown loafers, available in sizes 8 through to 12. INCLUDING 10! WOW! I don’t think I’ve ever been more excited to feel a pair of leather shoes in my hands. I looked around to see if I was being watched, but instead of stealing them, I smelt them. Realising I’d hit a new low in my life, I strolled towards the till having discovered that the elevens were more to my feet’s favour and more easily accommodated my rugby socks. Pair of shoes in hands, picking up a perfect outfit-matching tie up on the way, I was grinning like Mr Carol’s Cheshire Cat. 

The girl at the till gave me a quizzical look.

“Are you alright, sir?”

“Fine thanks yeah, just glad to find a good pair of shoes.”

“We aim to please. That’ll be £37 please”.

(The sticker on the shoes said £38 and the tie was £5 which only prompted further smiling)

Not wishing to try my luck and realising that ‘good things come to those who wait’, I left the shop feeling satisfied that Burton had done me proud and then I thanked God for BHS.