Summer wardrobe

This is it. Plus bites on the legs. Such a hot look right now.

Meeting Patrick Bateman

"Never meet your heroes" a wise man may have or may not have once said. I'd dare to suggest just don't meet them when you're sober. If you're pissed you'll hopefully be exceptionally daring, charming and brandishing a wit so sharp it could slice up ox cheeks. Or you won't remember if your chat sinks like a lead balloon. Either way you should be onto a winner.

So on this note we went down the Sarf bank to check out author and once enfant terrible of American literature, Brett Easton Ellis. He's got a new work to push so he's on this global tour talking about himself and this new, ever so slightly thin tome Imperial Bedrooms.

Turned out he wasn't a completely-up-himself dick. He admitted to being shit at a few things and wasn't unwilling to take the piss out of either himself or the audience. Plus he didn't mind a trio of slightly intoxicated goons asking him to either write 'Fuck off Chris' in an incomprehensible accent in one of his own books or sign a copy of House of Cards by Michael Dobbs.

Thanks a lot Mr Ellis. You were the bigger man.