Selling, Suiting and Writing...

This morning I had to pitch an article to the Pink Paper in the hope that they'd be interested in the company I work for. I've never liked selling myself or my writing. It's one of the reasons I became a writer. When it comes to expressing myself, I need time to find the most effective words. If I was super-confident, why would I need to write at all? Writing is for people who have trouble expressing themselves - until pen is put to paper, that is, when everything starts to flow. It's why I feel such connection when I write - as if something's been unlocked inside me. My blood literally starts to tingle. I can feel it buzzing in my arms. For the period it takes me to complete the piece, my mind is wholly absorbed.

Having to sell myself is an unavoidable nuisance. If you don't make people notice you, you simply don't get noticed. The same can be said for A Suit That Fits. It's my job as Junior Writer to get this company noticed. If I had to do it by speaking to people, I'd be the crappest sales rep in town. So thank God I can do it in writing... The difficulty comes when I think I'm a writer before I'm a seller, that I can only write effectively about what I feel inside. Luckily, A Suit That Fits make it easy. Not only are they the most exciting new garment house in London, their suits as exquisite as their marketing stunts are crazy, they understand the power of a few carefully-chosen words.

Visit their website here.

Islington, Autumn and a Dream

For a change it wasn't hard to get out of bed this morning. The clocks went back a few days ago so my room was flooded with light. My room is bright even on grey days (the creamy walls and big, big windows create a suntrap above London) but this morning it was literally beaming. I'd woken from a dream in which friends from various walks of my life had gathered at an awards ceremony in a trendily-converted warehouse. My school-friend Jax looked strangely anaemic in a slinky, silver-grey dress, while another, Ant, played Tori Amos on an enormous grand piano. A lovely girl called Rachel (the daughter of my mother's friend) was giving some kind of speech, while a new acquaintance (a handsome banker with a sexy French accent) kept morphing into my ex and back again. It was odd to see so many people from different parts of my life gathered in the same room, but stranger still to wake in a dazzlingly sunlit room and realise with disappointment that it was nothing but a dream.

After showering and dressing and leaving my flat, I had to walk through Islington to pick up a parcel from the Royal Mail. The squares were literally a sea of leaves, and out in the open of Islington Green, the sunlight fell through the yellowing leaves and left me watery-eyed. The wind that whistled through the iron fences merely added to my discomfort; and as I stood, squinting at the bus-stop, I couldn't help noticing the clear blue sky, the coldness of which seemed to chill me through. If I only had a jacket from A Suit That Fits I'd be warm whilst appreciating autumn, I thought. I'd choose a fine brown pinstripe and wear it in keeping with this dying season. In the meantime, I thought, I'll shiver in the light... while the leaves fall down around me.

This blog was made possible by A Suit That Fits, who'll help you add some 'autumn' to your life.

The above painting is by Alex Cave. To buy similar paintings or to see more of his work click here.

Sunlight

I was sitting on the bus this morning, travelling into the city, when the sun shone through the windscreen and fell against my face. At first I looked away, dazzled by the light. Then, thinking better of it, I fixed my gaze ahead of me and let the sunlight fall where it liked. After the preceding week's greyness it was a stunning change to see these bright yellow rays. They seemed to wipe out the entire world, leaving nothing but their brightness. For a moment I forgot I was on a bus and became one with the yellow light.

One of winter's most valuable traits is the way it teaches us to appreciate the sun. In summer the sun is more or less constant and we forget how enjoyable it is. But when the air is chilly and the wind is keen, we realise how beautiful the sunlight is - simply because it's so fleeting. Here at A Suit That Fits we've devised a way to let you carry the sunlight with you, whatever the weather. Just order a jacket with a luminous gold lining and when you're feeling sad or blue, simply draw back the panels and cast your eyes across the gold - the sight will warm you through and through.

The Sexy City-Worker Destroyed

City workers are a curious commodity. On the one hand they project a powerful style, epitomised by the pinstripe suit; on the other, they represent the pursuit of money in a solely economic world. Only this morning, as I was passing Bank, I noticed a young banker in line at the cash machine. There was something about him that stopped me in my tracks, and I stood fixated at the entrance to the Tube, casting my eyes up and down the stripes in his suit. The way they ran vertically down the length of his body seemed to accentuate every curve.

As the cold October wind broke over me, banishing the underground heat, the man began to walk towards me, his jacket pulled tight around his waist. Panic was drawn in his dimly-lit eyes. I could see streaks of grey in his hair. And as he passed me and I turned to look, the bottom of his jacket flared open, suggesting the natural shape of his hips.

All those hours, I thought, have aged him. His face looks dark and drawn. He needs some sunshine to sweep away the gloom. A holiday, perhaps, or a romantic meal for two. Before I headed off into the burgeoning crowds, I watched him hook a finger and yank his collar slightly open. I caught a glimpse of shining leather. It was one of those necklaces people wear when they're returning from places like Thailand. Perhaps he's a surfer, I thought. A traveller in foreign lands. Whatever he was once, he's gradually fading now. Like a mummy wrapped in expensive linen...

Don't be a suit. Buy one! Visit A Suit That Fits.