I lived in Hampstead for many years before moving to Barnes, and I would say that north west London has a very different vibe to the south west. Hampstead is really quite urban in my view, even allowing for the Heath and the georgian townhouses. And while it used to be known as an artistic place, popular with actors, writers and poets, there has been an influx of American and Japenese bankers (and lots of Arsenal football players). In terms of dress, I don't think Hamstead has any particular character of its own anymore, which is curious because if you compare it with, say, Chelsea (which also has a high street with one long line of branded retail outlets) I would say that the latter still displays quite a distinct feel.
Further out, going south west, you hit Fulham, Chiswick, Putney and Barnes, all of which, I think, have retained something of the traditional english sensibility when it comes to dress. Only Richmond (which, actually, is technically not in London but in Surrey) has lost this, and that is probably because its character has been diluted into extinction by the influx of visitors for its shops and night life. Being on the Heathrow flight path also doesn't help...
Suburban style
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storeynicholas
I entirely agree with your observation on the differences in atmosphere between all these places around London but it is difficult to say which is my favourite spot - sentiment also plays a part but Blackheath is certainly up there just below central London. Some of the other places that you mention have become citadels of the young fogeys (as I believe they are called) - Fulham especially - and they do still have their own uniforms. I moved up into the old fogey league three years ago which, in conjunction with living in a hot country in a house that needs to have the beach sand swept out of it every day, means that I don't actually get to wear clothes much anymore - except when preening of course.
NJS
NJS
^^ I think that's Sator's cue for a refrain on proper beachwear . . . .
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storeynicholas
Of all the wrong things said about Brazil, the tails of the women on the beach is not one of them and hey, who's complaining. However, the men could definitely do with some talking to about covering up more. I mean the women will wear a sarong off the beach to cover their bare-faced cheek but the men will shop in the supermarket in their trunks and stand around the town bars drinking small beer in the same things. Best not dwelt upon - especially since the hanging abdomen seems to be swung about with noble pride.
NJS
NJS
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HappyStroller
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Executive suits seem quite out of place in suburban areas.
By executive suits, I rmean business suits that are either solid or pin-striped charcoal grey, midnight blue, dark grey, dark blue, navy blue, medium grey or medium blue. Black lace calf leather oxfords, too.
Unless, you just happen to hop onto a bus in Surbiton, for example, to get to the railway station on the way to work in the City.
By executive suits, I rmean business suits that are either solid or pin-striped charcoal grey, midnight blue, dark grey, dark blue, navy blue, medium grey or medium blue. Black lace calf leather oxfords, too.
Unless, you just happen to hop onto a bus in Surbiton, for example, to get to the railway station on the way to work in the City.
I live in San Francisco, a city perhaps more infamous than others for favoring "business casual" workplaces. Wearing a suit to work every day puts me among a tiny minority of my colleagues, which illustrates my point: External pressure to adopt a particular manner of dress exists both in cities and suburbs. I have seen plenty of elegant suburbanites in Marin, the Peninsula, and the Los Angeles suburb where I grew up, and I see plenty of slobs every day in San Francisco. Taste is an individual trait, and I applaud urbanites and suburbanites who are willing to express their individuality.
One final thought on business casual. Although business casual policies are touted as allowing everyone to dress in their preferred manner, the policies, in fact, promote a uniform, and typically inelegant, manner of dress. The result brings to mind an old cartoon in which two identically dressed hippies are standing next to a soldier in uniform. In the caption, one of the hippies says to the other that he'd never be caught dead in a uniform.
Cheers.
One final thought on business casual. Although business casual policies are touted as allowing everyone to dress in their preferred manner, the policies, in fact, promote a uniform, and typically inelegant, manner of dress. The result brings to mind an old cartoon in which two identically dressed hippies are standing next to a soldier in uniform. In the caption, one of the hippies says to the other that he'd never be caught dead in a uniform.
Cheers.
I live in San Francisco, a city perhaps more infamous than others for favoring "business casual" workplaces. Wearing a suit to work every day puts me among a tiny minority of my colleagues, which illustrates my point: External pressure to adopt a particular manner of dress exists both in cities and suburbs. I have seen plenty of elegant suburbanites in Marin, the Peninsula, and the Los Angeles suburb where I grew up, and I see plenty of slobs every day in San Francisco. Taste is an individual trait, and I applaud urbanites and suburbanites who are willing to express their individuality.
One final thought on business casual. Although business casual policies are touted as allowing everyone to dress in their preferred manner, the policies, in fact, promote a uniform, and typically inelegant, manner of dress. The result brings to mind an old cartoon in which two identically dressed hippies are standing next to a soldier in uniform. In the caption, one of the hippies says to the other that he'd never be caught dead in a uniform.
Cheers.
One final thought on business casual. Although business casual policies are touted as allowing everyone to dress in their preferred manner, the policies, in fact, promote a uniform, and typically inelegant, manner of dress. The result brings to mind an old cartoon in which two identically dressed hippies are standing next to a soldier in uniform. In the caption, one of the hippies says to the other that he'd never be caught dead in a uniform.
Cheers.
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