“But who wants to be foretold the weather? It is bad enough when it comes, without our having the misery of knowing about it beforehand.”
― Jerome K. Jerome, Three Men in a Boat
My repetitive tweed-blab is the most sensible thing to write about these days.
Welcome the sartorialists:
Swagger!
The only serious vehicle that we had on the ground was from The Chap magazine journalists!
Here they come the trendy gang.
The Tweedrun took place in April, at a very moderate speed cruising through Marylebone, Regent Street, Picadilly and Trafalgar. Strictly tweed and vintage bikes only.
Myself and a couple more volunteers were in charge of brewing loose Earl Grey tea in hundreds of teapots for the riders. At some point a cake was served but we missed this bit amidst all the heebiejeebies of serving tea.
Hello you two!
mmm, nothing offensive but you seriously look like a Russian man, dude! Levin may be?
He never photographed me back! This is just rude :)
A couple of volunteers that were helping to run the event made a hell of an effort, not only making the party great and filling everyone with litres of aromatic tea, but also turning up in such spruce outfits!
These gloves make me think of Madonna!
Blatant daylight robbery!
And I still hate yellow socks
Anna Akhmatova's flipping ghost!
Guten tag herr Furrer!
