Cashmere and Oyster Shells
Yesterday was Cashmere Day at Black.co.uk. It is an annual event where The Boss and The Buyer leave Black HQ in the pursuit of staple cashmere accessories for our cashmere-crazed Autumn/Winter season. It is a fine event. Very tactile. And if they're lucky they may leave with a goody or two. (Given, not stolen)
Usually The Buyer take lots of pictures as reminders of stuff they've seen, otherwise come ordering time they resort to staring nonplussed at a reel of mile-long sample codes. Here are some:
Not sure about this. (Scarf not The Boss)
Love these:
Anyway, almost as important as Cashmere Day is the Post-Cashmere Day lunch here:
So The Buyer had a camera full of accessories, but failed to capture lunch. What a fool. They sat at the counter and The Boss had six Cornish Oysters (naturally). The Buyer did not. If food is so impenetrable that it causes a Herculean 25-year old Irish oyster-shell opener to be rushed out of the bar bleeding with his dismembered fingers suspended in a cool-box The Buyer feels it's not Nature's intention for it to be eaten. Worn, however, is another matter. She would consider losing a finger or two for the sake of a Tahitian Black Pearl. Now there's an idea for some radical viral marketing.
