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SPRING / SUMMER 11


I ntroduci ng a new s tyle of whisky for a new ki nd of whisky dri nker is the worlds first “Triple Malt� whisky, carefully crafted from three of the finest Speyside single malts in small batches of just 27 casks. On its own it is smooth and rich. However, this is a whisky that loves company and is a favourite of top bartenders.


s p r i n g s u mm e r 2 0 1 1

SS11 d es t in o signum by v er o ni q ue droulez SPRING / SUMMER 11


williamson shirt washed buoy orange check


williamson shirt washed buoy ORAnge check dapper trousers scrubbed vermillion twill


doyle jacket grey windowpane ferguson v-neck navy with linen dapper trousers skye blue twill


kirkwell waistcoat indigo herringbone holms shirt storm grey right: inver shoe stone canvas / meleze grain inver shoe blue canvas / mahogany


country calf full grain weekend bag sage


red teeth

had promised each other we’d

The pastor spread strawberry jam

keep them switched off. I picked

onto a scone and I watched him

We had watched each

up my phone and there was a

slowly, methodically, devour it.

other over the dinner

message coming through via

Jam on his fingertips, butter on

table, the breakfast table,

Bluetooth. It was from BLUE BILL. his nails. Bill told them that he and I had to use our handsets

the lunch spread. We had swum in the freezing ocean

Emmy was in the kitchen and I

for work, that they were not to

together. We had shared a couch,

bit the back of my hand to stifle

mind if we checked them. He

legs touching, as the sitting

a giggle. Bill sat with his legs

was casual. Eyes glistening with

room lights went down and the

crossed, typing into his phone,

bravado.

television played a forgettable

smirking. It said, with Bill’s

film.

trademark text message block

My pocket buzzes, I flip open the

capitals: I FOUND OUT THAT phone, my straight face fastened All under the watchful eye of

ON FRIDAY EMMY LEAVES

on. BEAUTIFUL GIRL, I

Auntie Emmy.

FOR THE MAINLAND. WE

WANT SOMETHING FROM

WILL HAVE THE HOUSE

YOU.

We slept in different bedrooms.

TO OURSELVES OVER

We didn’t creep around at

THE WEEKEND. CAN YOU

I wait five minutes before I

night as the house creaked and

WAIT THAT LONG? X I

respond: Something for the

shuddered from the weight of the

bit my knuckle and went to the

weekend…?

Hebridean wind.

toilet to laugh into the palms of my sweating hands.

Bill types immediately, keeping an admirably straight face: CAN

She had a cabinet filled with mini Mary Magdalens. She

On Wednesday a man came to

YOU SEE IT BULGING IN

told him once that a man and

visit. He was introduced as the

MY TROUSERS?

woman who lay together without

Pastor. He raised a single eyebrow Soon after, the pastor asked

matrimony would burn fastest

at us as if he knew something we

to look at the phone. I broke

in purgatory. On this island,

didn’t. Or something we did. Bill

the rich tea biscuit in my fist.

we came as friends, colleagues,

and I hadn’t been anywhere near

Bill handed the phone over

companions. Away for two weeks

each other. I imagined she would

calmly. I assume any trace of our

of relaxation. Walks, firesides

be waiting for us. That she could

conversations was beyond the

and drams of whisky.

smell it, this rancid passion in

technological understanding of

repose, languishing amongst the

the pastor. He tapped and fiddled

All the while, secretly,

stillness of her antique furniture.

with a look of bewilderment

hopelessly, punch-drunkenly

We didn’t dare. But this old man

broken only by the occasional

seething with desire for each

seemed keen to sit in the deathly

glance over to Emmy.

other.

quiet of Emmy’s Hebridean cottage sitting room and listen

Our Bluetooth conversations

Blue Bill. That’s what he called

to the clock ticking, the clink of

broke the tedium of the time

himself. A nickname for the

tea cups and saucers, pouring his

we spent indoors. But the week

real world and the virtual. We

gaze into ours.

wasn’t without its surprises. The night the pastor came to dinner,

learnt to communicate in a way that Emmy would never have

Bill took to sending Bluetooth

I slept poorly. I woke up in the

questioned. Bill started it, asking

messages while we sat there, the

night to an animal noise. An

me if I had checked my phone.

four of us, five if you count the

owl, a fox. Who knows what they

That the office may have rang.

doubting scowl of Emmy’s late

had up here. So many sounds

His look urged me to switch

husband from his omniscient

I’d never heard before, in that

my phone on, even though we

perch on top of the television.

wild, wild wood outside Emmy’s


s p r i n g s u mm e r 2 0 1 1

cottage. I lay awake and listened,

The pastor and Bill would see her

Western Isles, the latitude of

my mouth dry and my shoulders

onto the ferry. Soon there would

Portugal and the longitude of

chilly above the blankets. I don’t

be water between her and us. Bill

Nova Scotia, we are a million

know how long I lay, but it took

had Bluetoothed me as Emmy

miles from the world. And we

me a long time to summon up the gathered her coats. The pastor

have all weekend. We have

courage to take my empty glass

stood in the doorway glaring at

waited so long, curbed our

to the toilet to fill up with water.

me. HIDE AND FUCK? came

feeling. Here in a forbidden

the message from Bill. WAIT

house, Blue Bill and I will take

The upstairs corridor was

IN HER CLOSET. I’LL LET

this to the extreme. Stripped

small and narrow, and I crept

YOU OUT OF IT WHEN I

from the waist up, I shiver as

lightly along it, barely able to

COME BACK.

crushed velvet and creperie brush against my naked torso.

see. The toilet floor was freezing under my bare feet, and I ran

And now here I am, sixteen

the tap slowly by the feint light

going on forty, hiding in my

HERE COMES BLUE BILL,

from outside, somewhere a

secret boyfriend’s great Aunt’s

he will say.

moon or stars shone. Relieved,

cupboard. Among the heavy,

I returned to the corridor and

musky dresses and the ancient

I don’t hear him return. Don’t

gasped, dropping my glass on the

petticoats. Around my feet I can

hear the van. The whole world

carpet. At the end of the corridor,

feel stiff shoes and unidentified

is quiet and I’m alone in a

in the doorway, stood a feint

blunt objects. I daren’t move: as

cupboard. The first I know

outline of a figure, just visible

if she is in the house. But she

of him is a buzz in my palm

to my rapidly adjusting eyesight.

isn’t. I heard them leave, picked

and a glow in the dark of the

Emmy stood in the doorway to

up and driven off by the pastor

cupboard as the handset lights

her room, not moving, not saying

in an decommissioned post office

up. I jump, bumping an elbow

anything. I picked up my glass

van, Bill going to wave the old

on the door. I am standing

and breathed an apology, an

bat onto the ferry and make sure

awkwardly, half crouching, my

explanation, softly as I bumped

she’s five miles out to sea before

legs aching somewhere beneath

back into my room. Emmy stayed, he comes back, bolts the door

the adrenaline. Perhaps he got

silent, still. I couldn’t make out

behind him and leaps up the

dropped off at the end of the

her face or features. I closed the

stairs with his trousers round his

lane.

door and wrapped myself up in

ankles and a glint in his eye. I fumble for the phone in my

blankets. It was light outside The wind is up, the shopping

skinny jeans. Bluetooth is open,

forecast had spoken. Doorframes

and the message flashes up. I

Hide and Fuck. It’s a game we

rattle and the gusts push against

hold the phone up to my face in

used to play as teenagers. In the

the mizzened windows.

the light, frowning at the little

before I returned to sleep.

screen.

early days when our bodies were undiscovered mountain ranges,

I imagine how he will arrive,

we the explorers. When our

what he will say. The smell of

And as my legs crumple, as my

parents would go out, one of us

him stepping into the darkness

face burns with shame. As the

would hide in a cupboard for the

with me. The tread of his shoes,

windows rattle. The screen asks

other to find. A childish game

every step bringing him closer

me to accept a message from

which ended in an adult way,

to me. HERE COMES BLUE

RED TEETH

clothes torn off and satisfaction

BILL, the phone will say.

had there, on the floor of

COMING TO GET YOU,

whichever room we happened

GIRL. The older we’ve got,

to be in. The day had come for

the more protracted these

Auntie Emmy to leave the island.

games have become. Here in the

NEITHER AM I www.neitherami.com


Country Calf Full Grain Weekend Bag Sage


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noble polo dry white dapper trousers skye blue twill inver shoe blue canvas /mahogany grain


inver shoe stone canvas / meleze grey inver shoe blue canvas / mahogany grain doyle jacket midnight holms shirt storm grey


law pocket tee dry white dapper trousers indigo herringbone


law pocket tee dry white dapper trousers indigo herringbone inver shoe blue canvas / mahogany grain jute belt natural cuenca panama with yacht stripe


C h e e r s t o t h e m e n o f t h e m a lt i n g s At one time, a “Monkey Shoulder� referred to a temporary injury suffered by malt-men when turning the barley by hand. Whilst our malt-men are among the few who still follow this traditional practice, fortunately the injury has been consigned to the past. Today, the name lives on in recognition of how malt-men once suffered for their art.


s p r i n g s u mm e r 2 0 1 1

SS11

Photographer OLIVER PILCHER WWW.OLIVERPILCHER.COM

art direction

d es t in o Veronique Droulez

HAIR

JUSTIN WILLIAMS

MAKEUP

Abigail McGrath

DIGITAL / RETOUCHER JULIA ESKELL

DIRECTOR OF PHOTOGRAPHY ROBERT JOHN PARKER

signum CAMERA ASSISTANT THOMAS AYERST

TALENT

ROB KNIGHTON @ NEXT UK MEG @ NEXT UK

TAILOR

ABDULLA KOK

SPECIAL THANKS TO LULU AND LUSH

15 LAMB STREET LONDON E1 6EA

by

& CHRISTIANA ROBERTS

STOCKIST ENQUIRIES JAPAN Ryo TakaGi-Style Co., Ltd. 102 Unison Yogogi 2-34-5 Yogogi, Shibuya-Ku Tokyo Japan ZIP 151-0053 Tel: +81 3 5308 1185 ryo@dupestyle.com

north america

v er o ni q ue Jon Kalupa – The Avalon Group USA , LTD. 547 West 27th Street New York, NY 10001 Tel: +1 212 736 3030

Jon@avalongroupna .com

scandInaviA

Jan axelsson – september agency Föreningsgatan 6 411 27 Gothenburg SWeden

Tel: +46 31 743 45 13

september@minmail .net

uk & rest of world

droulez Jim pickles – d.s.dundee star house

3 richmond road london, e8 3hy

TEL: +44 207 241 2448 JIM@DSDUNDEE.COM

SPRING / SUMMER 11


SPRING / SUMMER 11

Spring/ Summer 2011 Campaign  

D.S.DUNDEE's Spring/ Summer Campaign Book 2011

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