Just around the corner from where I live in Birmingham is a clothing boutique for both men and women. Sadly it's not an Armani shop, nor is it Alexander McQueen or Dolce & Gabbana. In fact it doesn't have a name. No brand. No description. Which is probably a good thing. Peek inside and you'll get a jaw-dropping look at what this little boutique is stocking. Fashion rejects from the 80's & 90's, collections manufactured in some breakaway region of the former Soviet Union. Now, you'd think no one would be interested in purchasing such garments, right? On the contrary, this little boutique is always full. It's a pimp daddy's hidden paradise. Why just this morning I walked past the boutique and it was heaving with a large group of middle aged Ugandan men covered in gold, happily snapping up bargains. "I take 4" one chuckled before slapping his credit card on the counter. Seeing him with his 4 shiny metallic shirts, WELL! I was tempted to go in and grab a few for myself. For some reason, and I can't figure out why, I find myself drawn (COUGH!) to this lovely blue suit jacket and checkered trilby hat I have captured in my photos above.
When I stood back and admired the window display (again, please see attached photos taken by MOI) I couldn't help but think - Where's Mary Portas when you need her? Mary if you read this, there's a little boutique around the corner from where I live in Birmingham that sure could do with your troubleshooting. Quick! Get your BBC chums, and your Mary Queen Of Shops series down here immediately. Alternatively you could just bring a huge wrecking ball, or Gok Wan if the wrecking ball is too costly.