PICA-POST ROCK GODS AND GOODS: THE THUNDERBOLT INVASION OF OI POLLOI PAGODA O . N. 4 AW MMXII
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PICA-POST Deck-Out Subterranean Homesick Menswear………4 Don’t Eat The Yellow Menswear………8 Smells Like Teen Menswear………12 The Ace of Menswear………16
Features Johnny Loco Rides Again………20 Eating lunch with Olmes Carretti………24 Il Bosco’s Italo Synth Jizz Slop Out………28 Thunderbolt Invasion of The Strangle Wank’s String Section………30
Pica-Post No.4 AW·MMXII
Published by of Cottonopolis www.oipolloi.com facebook.com/oipolloi twitter.com/oipolloi Creative Direction: Steve Sanderson & Nigel Lawson Editor / Art Direction: Eóin MacManus Design: Little Sister + Microsoft Word Styling: Steve Sanderson, Nigel Lawson, John Studley Illustration: Rosie Toole, Kelly Angood Photography: Ray Chan, Enrico Grigoletti Words: Sam Waller, Enrico Grigoletti, Eóin MacManus, Il Bosco Printed by: Push
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SUBTERRANEAN H OMESICK MENSWEAR
First things first, what’s been going on lately? I lost my one true love. I started drinking. The first thing I know, I’m in a card game. Then I’m in a crap game. I wake up in a pool hall. Then this big Mexican lady drags me off the table, takes me to Philadelphia. She leaves me alone in her house, and it burns down. I wind up in Phoenix. I get a job as a Chinaman. I start working in a… Alright Bob, sorry to halt your rambling but we haven’t got long here. What are you wearing today? A poem is a naked person... Some people say that I am a poet. That makes sense I suppose, what are you citing as ‘key looks’ for the season? How could I answer that, if you’ve got the nerve to ask me? I mean, you’ve got a lot of nerve to ask me a question like that! Do you ask the Beatles that? Well, we did do yeah, but John wasn’t replying to our e-mails… Anyway, let’s move this on; did you read the last Pica Post? I mean sure I read it, you know, I get it on the airplanes but I don’t take it seriously. If I want to find out anything, I’m not gonna read (Pica Post), I’m not gonna read any of these magazines, I mean ‘cause they just got too much to lose by printing the truth. You know that.
We’re not really following you anymore to be honest Bob, what do you mean by the truth? Really the truth is just a plain picture. A plain picture of, of, let’s say a tramp vomiting into the sewer you know? And then and uh, next door to the picture you know, is Mr Rockefeller or you know, Mr C.W. Jones on a subway going to work, uh you know, any kind of picture. You’re maybe taking this a bit seriously, we’re just a clothes shop, just trying to get by, like anyone else. All this talk about equality. The only thing people really have in common is that they are all going to die. Well that’s a bit of a grim way of putting it. Anyway, let’s move the conversation back to menswear. There’s been definite word in the blogosphere that we’re going to see a return to bolder prints and designs after the relatively toned down, ‘less is more’ designs of the last few years, what are your thoughts of this, not only as a performer, but also as a wearer of clothing? Bullshit. Oh, such bullshit. I know the fellow that said that. He used to come around here and get beat up all the time. He better watch it; some people are after him. They’re going to strip him naked and stick him in Times Square. They’re going to tie him up, and also put a thermometer in his mouth. Bob wears Batten Sportswear and Lee. For the complete deck-out PTO >
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Barbour, Caister Fair Isle Knit. £79
Polo Ralph Lauren, Custom Fit BD Shirt, £95
Lee, 101z. £210
Batten Sportswear, 14 Wale Cords, £155
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Lee, 101 Rider Shirt. £130 Engineered Garments, Field Parka £549
Batten Sportswear, Travel Shell Parka, £409
Batten Sportswear, Retro Rucksack, £199
Engineered Garments, Crew Cap, £69
Han Kjøbenhavn, Wolfgang, £105
Calabrese, Nerano Wallet, £45
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Chup, Vall & Pasto Fair Isle Socks, £25
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Vans, Authentic CA, £60
Braun, BN0035, £190
Anderson’s, Woven Suede Belt, £59
Quoddy, Tracker Boot, £310
T A E DON’T OW L L E Y THE R A E W MENS
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Morning Frank, we’re going to cut straight to the questions here. How would you describe your style in one word? There are five acceptable words: baby, love, tears, yat yat. Just because I don’t deal in those terms doesn’t mean I’m weird. So tell these people: I ain’t weird; I’m rational. What’s your favourite item of clothing in your wardrobe? The bassoon is one of my favourite instruments. It has the medieval aroma, like the days when everything used to sound like that. Some people crave baseball... I find this unfathomable, but I can easily understand why a person could get excited about playing the bassoon. What? Think you misheard us there Frank, anyway, what are your thoughts on the socks and sandals debate? I think it’s really tragic when people get serious about stuff. It’s such an absurdity to take anything really seriously ... I make an honest attempt not to take anything seriously: I worked that attitude out about the time I was eighteen, I mean, what does it all mean when you get right down to it, what’s the story here? Being alive is so weird. What’s the most useful piece of style advice you’ve received? A wise man once said, “Never discuss philosophy or politics in a disco environment.”
What do you think autumn / winter has in store for us, style wise? It’s been proven over and over again that the emperor isn’t wearing any clothes, but most people don’t like to look at naked emperors. In the process of turning around to avert their eyes, they saw the discotheques and a few other things and latched onto them. The worlds of menswear and home-ware are becoming increasingly entwined, how does your home reflect your eclectic style? Tobacco is my favourite vegetable. Fair enough, cheers Frank. Frank wears Nanamica, Norse Projects and Edwin. For the complete deck-out PTO >
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Henri Lloyd, Olmes Carretti Consort Jacket Navy £TBC
Nanamica, Gore-Tex Soutien Collar Coat, £549
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Lee, 101 Round Neck Knit £155
Spring Court, G2 Low Canvas, £50
Svensson, Heavy Waffle Lambswool Crew, £185
Clarks Originals Wallabees, Maple Suede, £75
Burlington, Preston Argyle Socks, £11
Braun, BN0024, £125
Engineered Garments, E-1 Pants, £215
A.P.C., Petit Standard, £159
Edwin, Oi Polloi 10th Anniversary ED-49, £120
A.P.C. Motorbike Bomber, £395
Lacoste, Long Sleeve Pique Polo, £85
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Shuron, Sportivo, £95
Anderson’s, Woven Wool Belt, £59
Norse Projects, Villads Heavy Shirt, £92
Clarks Originals, Desert Boot, £79
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Alright Kurt, we know you’ve been away for a while, so what has been your reaction to the ‘heritage’ boom we’ve seen in the last few years? They’re poser, wannabe rednecks, but they just don’t have the twang. The first thing that started freaking me out was playing shows and seeing sort of bi-level redneck logger guys in the front row. It seems like it’s something you feel quite strongly about. I don’t mean to complain as much as I do, but it’s a load of shit. It’s really stupid. It makes me question the point of it all. I’m only gonna bitch about it for another year and, if I can’t handle it after that, we’re gonna have to make some drastic changes. How would you describe your style? Bay City Rollers after an assault by Black Sabbath. What outside factors inform your style? I won’t eat anything green. So you mean you don’t wear anything green either? We don’t have much patience with journalists who don’t bother to look into the archives of our history.
Sorry Kurt, we’re trying here, 18 years so this interview was easy. Anyway, have you got any new season? Wearing a dress shows I can be want.
you’ve been dead for never going to be style tips for the as feminine as I
Interesting. It seems classic surf style is becoming a key trend. What are your thoughts on this? I wouldn’t wear a tie-dyed tee-shirt unless it was dyed with the urine of Phil Collins and the blood of Jerry Garcia. Fair comment, anyway we’ve got to wrap this up now, so before we go, what are your plans for the future? I’ll just retire to Mexico or Yugoslavia with a few hundred dollars, grow potatoes, and learn the history of rock through back issues of Creem magazine. Kurt wears Folk, Our Legacy and Engineered Garments. For the complete deck-out PTO >
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Norse Projects, Elka 2 Colour Contrast, £192
Our Legacy, Single Cardigan, £165
Engineered Garments, Type 7 Work Pants, £205
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Stone Island, Sheep Skin Hat, £300
Our Legacy, First Shirt, £120
Folk, Taylor Belt, £65
Converse, Chuck Taylor All Star Ox, £40
Vans, Old School Skateboarder, £55
Norse Projects, Elka 2 Colour Contrast, £192
Folk, Tuck Up Crew. £159
Folk, Cap. £65
Han Kjøbenhavn, Timeless, £120
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Levi’s Vintage Clothing, 1960’s Striped Tee. £75
Folk, Block Gloves, £55
Folk, Tuck Up Crew. £159
Watershed, Large Tote, £95
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THE ACE OF MENSWE AR First things first — everyone knows that 2012 has been the year of the crew-neck sweater, so what’s your prediction for 2013’s breakout style? It is too late. We’re done. Pretty soon we’ll all be extinct or living in hermetically sealed caves because we’re poisoning the air we breathe, the water we drink, and the food we eat. Any questions? And it’s not like we haven’t known this, but businesses wanted the money more than they wanted their children to live. Isn’t that wonderful? You can count on mankind every time.” Yeah, suppose so, not really sure we’re following. Anyway, back to the questions. We’ve seen a real chino boom in the last few years, with jeans being out of the limelight slightly. Do you think denim’s set to make a comeback? I don’t understand people who believe that if you ignore something, it’ll all go away. That’s completely wrong – if it’s ignored it gather-s strength. Europe ignored Hitler for twenty years. As a result he slaughtered a quarter of the world.
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How do you balance simple, somewhat everyday basics with the harder to wear, statement pieces? We come to your town, we pollute your children, we kick you in the mouth, then we run off, that’s basically the ethos behind it. How would you describe your wardrobe? It’s nothing if not democratic, but I don’t think it’s fair to be waving your dick around when people are minding their own business and might not want to see it. When it comes to your style, who do you look to for inspiration? From the beginning of time, the bad guys always had the best uniforms. Napoleon, the Confederates, the Nazis. They all had killer uniforms. I mean, the SS uniform is fucking brilliant! They were the rock stars of that time. Lemmy wears Nanamica (pffft!) For the complete deck-out PTO >
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Henri Lloyd Olmes Carretti Consort Jacket Yellow £TBC
Nanamica, 65 35 Cruiser Jacket, £345
Engineered Garments, E-1 Pants, £215
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Folk, Block Gloves, £55
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Converse, Jack Purcell LTT, £50
Braun, BN0035, £190
Persol, 0714, £230
Engineered Garments, Miner Shirt, £159
Quoddy, Maliseet Oxford, £235
Engineered Garments, Miner Shirt, £159
Engineered Garments, E-1 Pants, £215
Batten Sportswear, 3 Layer Insulated Vest, £255
Woolrich Woolen Mills, Boone Parka, £595
Epperson Mountaineering, Large Climb Pack, £165
Lee, Daren Cords, £80
Batten Sportswear, Eastern Shirt, £145
Batten Sportswear, Trail Shirt, £145
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JOHNNY LOCO RIDES AGAIN: A FAIRLY FICTIONAL ACCOUNT OF L’EROICA
BY SAM WALLER Illustrations by Kelly Angood
to work on the mush. Yeah I’m no spring turkey, and I ain’t quite the tom-cat I was, but this brown-eyed old mule hasn’t had his day yet. And if I don’t take care of this fine face, who will? After sweating my way to the far end of the car park I find leathery-faced Sal-Pepe who looks like he’s good for the trip. “This a taxi?” He shouts something back, I don’t know what he’s saying but his nodding head tells me I’m in luck. “L’Eroica. Gaiole. Bike race.” I do a pedalling motion with my hands — the universal sign for bicycles, if I’m not mistaken. “You can take me. Yes?” The driver’s still doing his Churchill-dog routine, and that’s good enough for me. It ain’t long before we’ve busted out of the airport complex and we’re in the countryside. So this is Italy right? Not too bad. Pizza-pies are plentiful on the trees, pasta trickles down the hillside and the clichés stretch out as far as these eyes can see. People always said I had a face that wouldn’t look outta place on the wall of Sal’s Famous, and as I catch the odd glance for someone on the roadside, I’ve gotta say, these guys wouldn’t look outta place in the Loco family album. I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I don’t feel out of place. And that’s alright. Soon enough the scenery starts to look like it’s on repeat so I quit gawking out the window and see what my friend in the driver’s seat has to say for himself. “Johnny Loco. That’s what they used to call me, you know loco, as in crazy, as in loco. That was me, the fastest thing on two wheels since Frankie the Mute overcooked a left hand turn down Snake Pass in ’53, but I suppose none of you would know about that either.”
“How long you been in the business then padre?
I was rambling again, and although no one on the whole damn plane was looking my way, I knew they were listening. It’s not like they had anything else to listen to anyway, come to think of it. I knock back another Gordon’s courtesy of the fine broad with the trolley and resume my one-way conversation.
No one’s listening. The man on my left is asleep, or at least he looks asleep. Maybe he’s just trying to avoid a conversation with me. It’s happened before. Suddenly I need a slash. The landing was a breeze. Pilots of the world, Johnny salutes you. After scrabbling around trying to find my bike amongst the luggage, I head out of the airport to see if I can score a ride. And then it hits me like a ton of red hot bricks, straight out of the kiln. IT IS HOT. Damn, if this keeps up I’m going to wind up looking like Crispy Joe after his weekly sojourn to Tanz’in’ere. And that ain’t no look for no-one. I quick-draw the factor 50 and get
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“Any of you stiffs heard of the Wright brothers? Well they were friends of mine once, good friends, and I’ve got fifty on the fact they’d be doing flips in their grave if they saw this sorry sight. God rest their sweet souls. This is flight. We are flying. We all paid one hundred and forty six pounds and ninety nine pence to take a trip on this crazy bird, and you lot look like you’re taking a Finglands to Fallowfield.” That was me, the fastest thing on two wheels since Frankie the Mute overcooked a left hand turn down Snake Pass in ’53.
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He mumbles something back which no matter how hard I bend my ear, I ain’t going to understand. But I’ll let him off, he’s not great at the fine art of conversation but he’s Rembrandt behind the wheel. I keep talking anyway, just ‘cause even if he don’t understand me neither, I don’t mind the sound of my voice much anyway. “I’m here for the race. I used to be good you know, some said really good. I was fast, and that’s what it’s about isn’t it. By the sixties I was over it though. Done with bikes. Done with head tube angles, wheel lacing patterns and all that. So I wandered around, made a few albums, did a bit of film work. You ever see Battle of the Planet of the Apes?”
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For a quick moment he takes his eyes off the dusty excuse for a road, nodding at me.
with Blue Eyes, so this should be a ride in the park, even for a washed up old dog like me.
“Well I was an ape… Anyway, I’m in my office minding my business when the phone rings. Seemed like it had been a good while since I’d last heard that noise, and I’d sort of gotten to forgetting what it sounded like, so after clawing around to find the handset I made sure I answered it. That’s why I’m here, it’s menswear you see. Some shop said they’d fly my hide over to Italy if I’d write something about a bike race. Now do I look like I know much about menswear? What I know about menswear could be written on that little tag on the neck of my favourite Le Coq Sportif
If I didn’t already feel old, the starting lineup makes me feel like I just crawled off the set of 10000BC. No bikes made after 1987. Well does that go for riders too? ‘Cause these doe-eyed young-pups don’t look old enough to burp sitting up, never mind ride without stabilisers. In the crowded square I catch the occasional nod my way every now and again. What are they nodding at? The fact I can’t afford a new bike? The fact a has-been like me has scraped himself together enough to race? Or maybe it’s my beautifully constructed and superbly well-designed Le Coq Sportif jersey?
jersey, right next to wear it says ‘100% wool’. And writing? The last time I wrote was signing my name on the divorce papers in ’57. But what else was I going to do? Sure the cat might get hungry, but there’s a family of mice hidden shacked-up behind the skirting boards in the office if things get tight.” I chatted on about nothing much in particular, and just as I was starting to think I’d ran out of things to say, I saw the sign. Gaiole. Twinned with Egremont.
I’d never heard of Egremont, but if it’s anything like this fine looking little place, then maybe I’ll have to look it up sometime. This place is like 2 something out of a film. I’m not sure which one 2 exactly, but take my word for it; it’s like a film. Old women wearing aprons hang out washing and beat the dust out of rugs whilst dusty-kneed children steal apples from market stalls. Chickens and goats are shuffled through the streets and church bells echo loudly through my skull.
Before we’ve got chance for familiarities the gun fires and we’re out of there. My bike’s rattling, the chain’s skipping through my gears like it’s playing a baby-grand and my brakes are as much use as chocolate sunglasses — but I don’t feel half bad. Not half-bad at all. Sure, this ain’t meant to be too competitive but I don’t know no other way. These upstarts may have the right bikes, but they’re a long way off the greats I used to rub shoulders with — French Bobby supping wine like water and still quicker than a bike-outta-hell, even if he was going the wrong way. John The Beard bit by a copperhead the size of a horse, crossing the line with a face like the moon when it’s holding water. Hell, you couldn’t write that stuff. I mean — we had style. Johnny Loco they called me. Quick. Tough. The devil on two-wheels. Sure, the wins were never thick, but they were fast. Even when I lost I lost with style, with grace. Tearing over the finish line with two punctures and two fingers to everyone who’d written me off. Johnny Loco, the kid with potential. Johnny Loco, the champion. Johnny Loco named and shamed in scandal. Johnny Loco washed up and forgotten by 30. Johnny Loco throwing up on his own shoes then falling down the stairs. Johnny Loco missing his plane and then having to make the whole damn thing up. - - For those who were wondering, L’Eroica (that’s ‘the heroic’ in Italian) is a cycling race that takes place in October every year in the Chianti region of Italy sponsored by the good chaps at Le Coq Sportif. Taking place on unpaved roads and not allowing bikes made after 1987, L’Eroica aims to recapture the golden era of cycling, complete with mid-race meals of beef-stew, jam-tarts and a fair few glasses of wine.
I rustle in my back-left trouser pocket amongst the loose change for the address of the place I was meant to be holed up in for the next few days and press it up to the driver’s eyes. “You know this place? We near yet?” He doesn’t answer. He does, however, perform the quickest U-turn I’ve ever had the pleasure of, and after back-tracking about fifty yards, we go screaming down some side-street you wouldn’t notice unless you were really trying, before bashing real majestically up the curb. Come race-day and I’m not feeling too fresh. Something about the temperature and the grappa has made my stomach feel like an oil slick. The place I’m staying is nice. Crisp white linen, flowers by the window, breakfast will be served at eight in the main dining area. Tasteful. The proprietors know a bit of English and almost seem interested in what I’ve got to say, or at least what my bankcard has got to say. The breakfast doesn’t help my stomach too much, but I’m sure it’ll clear once I’m on the road. Hell, I used to race the morning after nights on the town
To get in to the spirit of things, Le Coq Sportif have made a L’Eroica range, consisting of traditional wool jerseys and cycling caps, and as luck would have it, Oi Polloi will be stocking it.
LE COQ SPORTIF L’EROICA CYCLING GLOVES
LE COQ SPORTIF L’EROICA RACERS CAP
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LE COQ SPORTIF L’EROICA RACERS ZIPPED POLO
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EATING LUNCH WITH OLMES CARRETTI / Interview by Enrico Grigoletti Images courtesy of Enrico Grigoletti/Henri Lloyd/Zone7Style
Re-invention — a very modern form of creation. Arguably all of Oi Polloi’s favourite clothing designers could be described as arch-appropriators. The output of menswear luminaries like Massimo Osti, Ralph Lauren and Daiki Suzuki couldn’t be confused as anything other than their own, singular and distinguishable. However, their work often involves elements of ideas taken from elsewhere. The artistry comes in re-imagining them. Talent borrows, genius steals. When Olmes Carretti launched his Best Company brand
slow, but within time it grew to be a huge success and we were able to create some great products. It all came to an end when Mr Santini was forced to sell the company. The new owners never really understood Best Company, in terms of creative direction. They moved the production outside Italy, they changed our process and they changed my team, so I decided to leave. Unfortunately it folded not long afterwards. Every week I receive emails asking me about Best Company, whether or not I’d relaunch the brand. It’s not possible at the moment — but I’d love to do it. EG – It certainly feels like the bright patterns and motifs Best Company sportswear was known for would be relevant today, there’s definitely more playful and outlandish elements appearing in menswear collections. For me, references to the natural world and a vivid use of colour were always two defining elements of the brand. Could you talk a little about this? OC – Well, the logo I choose for Best Company was a
in 1982 he reconsidered classic sportswear items, creating a startling juxtaposition of American iconography and Italian design sensibilities. An expressive use of colour, print and pattern, coupled with superior Italian manufacturing, were Best Company trademarks. Carretti’s distinctive approach caught the eye of Manchester based sailing brand Henri Lloyd, who hired him to work on the re-launch of their Consort jacket. Under Carretti’s direction Best Company and Henri Lloyd became must-have brands amongst the dapper youths populating Milan’s streets, the ‘paninaro’, and went on to become popular with England’s styleconscious counterparts.
N o • 4 pine tree… I guess that speaks for itself. I’ve always been inspired by the natural world. I like to think we did the right thing in giving something back — Best Company would sponsor ‘green’ events and support ecological causes. It wasn’t as common for companies to have these kind of sensibilities in 1982! The colour palettes used in my work were also inspired by nature, by traveling, experiencing different cultures and sensations. Colour is always my starting point. For the redesign of the Henri Lloyd Consort jacket
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In commemoration of their 50th anniversary, Henri Lloyd have again teamed up with Olmes Carreti. The Consort is perhaps Henri Lloyd’s definitive jacket, and Carretti has given it a significant redesign. In anticipation of the jackets arriving, we asked Enrico Grigoletti to meet with Olmes at his studio in Reggio Emilia, to discuss his past work and the renewed collaboration with Henri Lloyd. EG – Can we begin by discussing your early career, how you came to be involved in clothing design? OC – Well, the first item of significance was probably the sweatshirt. As humble an item as it may seem, I always saw great potential in it. During my time spent working on Best Company I got chance to explore these ideas fully, but everything started with a brand called St. Moritz. That didn’t really work out, for one reason or another, but soon after a small knitwear firm asked me to come on board and continue what I was doing at St. Moritz, the outcome of this was the By American Windsurf Club sweatshirt. EG – So Best Company was a progression of these projects, how did that come about? OC – After my adventure with By American, Mr Saltini, one of the many By American suppliers, got in touch and asked me to develop a brand for him. It was 1982 and Best Company was born. The first two seasons were
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I defined 16 colours, using special tinctures which I have personally tested and approved, in the light of the desert, during one of my trips to the land of handknotted carpets!
EG – Inventive use of colour is definitely something people associate with your designs. I guess the other main association is the paninaro look. Best Company sportswear and the Consort RWR jackets you did for Henri Lloyd in eighties were both quintessential items in that movement, how did you come to be affiliated with the whole paninaro subculture? OC – I’m saying this for the first time, but I swear it’s the truth: I never considered the paninaro when I was working on my designs. I wasn’t part of that scene. If I’m honest; I wasn’t very happy about what was going on in Piazza San Babila in Milan, and my association with it… they were wild boys! I was coming from a totally different background, having grown up in rural surroundings and then spending time traveling… England, Nepal, the States. The paninari were a very city-centric, Milanese set. Somehow they came to adopt Best Company as a symbol of their lifestyle, but I never really took inspiration from them. EG – It’s funny how clothing is appropriated unexpectedly sometimes. How did everything get started with Henri Lloyd?
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OC – The first Consort jacket was created in 1965 by Angus Lloyd and Henry Strzelecki for Francis Chichester, the first person to sail single-handed around the world. In 1984 Henri Lloyd contacted me and asked me to create a new version of the jacket, the Consort Round the World Race jacket or RWR. At this point Henri Lloyd was really only popular amongst sailors, who relied on the technical specifications of its products. You could say my reinterpretations helped the brand ‘go ashore’. EG – And now, almost 50 years after it was first designed, we’re seeing the return of the Consort. You must be pleased the jacket has remained relevant for such a long time, allowing you the opportunity to work on it again? OC – Absolutely! It was an honour for me to be able to revisit such a classic item, a great opportunity. The Consort was a very original product, ahead of it’s time. When approaching the re-design I’ve tried to stay true to the original, to its flavour and essence. You can’t forget the origins of a garment like this. EG – Could you explain the biggest differences between the eighties version and the new Consort? OC – The biggest difference is the fit and shape, we completely reworked it, creating a shorter and slimmer silhouette, a more contemporary cut. Overall I’d say it feels smarter. It’s still a technical jacket that can be worn in a sporty way — but also looks great with a formal blazer. The detailing has also changed, we adjusted some technical elements, adding a triple front fastening (the original only has a double layer), plus all seams have been thermosealed. The front buttons have been changed, we’ve used naval-style buttons, similar to those found on a pea-coat. Then of course there are the new colours I mentioned previously. Whilst respecting the original design, this is far from a nostalgic replica, it’s been moved along significantly. I’m very pleased with the results. EG – Olmes, thanks for taking the time out to talk to us. OC – Thank you too… Let’s have lunch, ravioli and erbazzone! Oi Polloi will be stocking the Henri Lloyd x Olmes Carretti Consort Jacket this Autumn/Winter.
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IL BOSCO’S
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ITALO DISCO SYNTH JIZZ SLOP OUT
Whenever people write about the Paninaro ‘scene’ the Pet Shop Boys record of the same name often gets a mention. In the name of musical oneupmanship, we decided to try and find an authentic voice on the subject of Italian dance music. Our search took us far and wide (Withington to Wythenshawe) before striking gold in the distant land of the Costa Del Salford, here we spoke with Italo sleaze fiend Il Bosco. Il Bosco is the (Ferrari) driving force behind Manchester’s Red Laser Disco club night and forthcoming record label of the same name. Buy him a beer and he’ll gladly regale you with stories about the time he drove a black cab all the way across Africa. Just for fun. We thought he was talking shit — but check his mugshot. Some man.
Nite Lite – Young Men At Red Laser Disco we like a paradox. Retro-future, camp-sinister, shit-good. ‘Young Men’ has got this ethos nailed. If you play the vocal version you may find your rectum imploding as the saccharin lyrics up the cringe-o-meter to dangerous levels. Flip for the instrumental and pitch the fucker right down. Thudblip-squelch. An electro-boogie grid-melter. Fockewulf 190 – Gitano
Ultimate Italo goth-synth disco destroyer. If ‘Analogothic’ was ever a scene this would be its anthem. The band look like extras from 80’s horror flick ‘The Hunger’ (a look not so revered in Salford, as it happens). Mad vocals. Highly prized in Italo circles. Kid Machine – Replicants E.P. Neo-Italo leader Kid Machine has got Italo heads worldwide buzzing off with this dance floor obliterator. “Where is this producer of anthemic, film-score electro based?” I hear you cry. Milan? Berlin? Detroit? No mate, Wythenshawe Estate. Best be careful stood round there with your autograph book.
‘Hypnotic Samba’ hits hard… An analogue boot to the bollocks. Brief moments of Parmigiano-Reggiano chorus bring you out of the dark fleetingly. Essential and cheap re-issue available. Bandido’s Gang – Dance With Bandido’s Gang Another modern entry to the list, this time from Cyberdance, who are leading the game in the UK, if you ask me. Moroder-esque bass arpeggio a go-go. Ace twelve. Black Angel – Change An Angel
Evo – Din Don The jolly side of Italo. An electro-pop rarity with top synth-bass and laser-lead, keytar fret-wanking. Addictive and mega danceable. Became my instant guilty pleasure amongst all the horrorcore flavours I originally got into. £400.00 to you sir. Time to rob your nana.
If you get the girls dancing the lads will follow, any half decent DJ knows this. Me, I like to get the girls dancing and to see the lads fuck off. This is the right track for getting rid of testosterone fuelled bulb-whiffs. It’s camp chug is undigestible to most blokes. Fantastic stuff.
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Amnesie with the Nicolosi Family – Turas
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Kermesse – Mrs Moon New Romantic edged synth stormer with a bass line that bounces like a rubber ball made from a melted down Casio. Similar vocal style to Fockewulf — but sounds more like the voice is coming from a mouth — rather than an arsehole with a ‘40-a-day’ habit. Double top dubbed out hash-consumption-middlesection.
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Hypnotic Samba – Hypnotic Samba
Bassline like a trigger happy Mafioso with an 8-bit tommy-gun. It’s hard to imagine this record developing into an all out disco anthem with soaring vocals and slap bass, but it does. I call it my lesbian magnet. Every time I play this record I end up surrounded gay women. Camp-sinister at it’s finest. Mega essential.
The neglected brother of My Mine’s ‘Hypnotic Tango’. While ‘Tango’ bubbles with trance-like euphoria,
The first release on Red Laser Records is out in October, featuring future Manc-talo hits from Kid Machine, Flemming Dalum, Starion and Ste Spandex, plus label boss and author of this piece, Il Bosco (AKA Woody).
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3 0 Claude Gainsbourg is a multi-instrumentalist
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Claude’s bass sitar
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TRANGL S E E H T K’S STR I N N A T I C ON E S
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3 2 Wock n Woll Woz wears… Henri Lloyd / YMC
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Johnny Forgotten wears… Lee / Engineered Garments / Levi’s N o • 4
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3 4 The Savage Wolf wears… Nanamica / A.P.C.
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Rich E. Pitch wears… Stone Island / Nanamica / Levi’s Vintage Clothing N o • 4
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3 6 Drummer Boy wears… Levi’s Vintage Clothing / A.P.C. / Lee / Anderson’s
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The Kicking Pigeon wears… Henri Lloyd / YMC / Batten Sportswear N o • 4
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3 8 Presenting… The Strangle Wanks.
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“It was in 1968, the year before Woodstock, between the giant bottle of liquid mercury Tony Conrad found in a doorway on 42nd Street and the Mylar Chamber, we experienced a shared voyage conceived in three parts: The Opium Dream, Shaman and Heavenly Blue Mylar Pavilions, an alchemical journey born out of common consciousness — culminating in the akashic Hindu drop swirling in the sky’s reflected azure. No minimalism here, but a maximalist adventure…” Ira Cohen