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At some point in the early 70s when I was on a duster clocks sunshine , brass clocks , grandfather clocks booming or rows,Chanel reissue 2.55 press Travel Alarm Clock moc parts - hook, I was forced to ask me a really hard question : Is what I am to 'm determined to spend the rest of my life , damn it ? Is this my fate ? Cuckoo ! Cuckoo ! Cuckoo ! After graduation I returned home to Reading, Berkshire, and took a job as a salesman and watches at the local store John Lewis . Although I did not know that was the point of my departure fashion odyssey. Work in detail in one of the rundown of British history economic times has proven to be incredibly surreal effort. In the absence of wealthy clients , or any type of user, I 'm busy every timepiece wound and fully synchronized. Some satisfaction came when on the hour , all clocks and cuckoos called and exploded into action , scare the shit out of the few customers in earshot . Things seemed , when I was transferred to the baggage service. Off the Clock - an involuntary recall terrible inexorable passage of time and the inevitable approach of death was a great relief . And there was something undeniably optimistic thing about travel articles . The sight of a new avocado green (remember , we're talking early 70s ) Tourister by Samsonite with matching cosmetic case has never failed to suggest that the life also of possibilities. Chanel wallet And speaking of options: I also found myself working alongside some great Queen languish . This person was mitigated fun and friendly , but more importantly , this person had loosened a special friend named Eric . The special friend named Eric was so special that they made ​​their way into our hometown and pushed gold. It worked - drum roll ! , As a designer dress in London. Eric does not design the clothes yourself. His specialty was " Missy separates . " Missy separates were not too bad . Missy separates tight sweaters, blouses, skirts and pants ruffles Tweedy - have a huge undertaking at the time. Every young slag reading would somehow managed to collect money to " new fab up" or a " smart rock " to buy one, to improve their weekend excursions and night pub crawls . Today Reading is a brilliant reinvention barely recognizable lighthouse. With a Premier League football team and masses of institutional investors such as the installation of Oracle , Reading has never seemed more foofy and fabulous. What a contrast! My time was a slaggy Reading , violent nature of the city. On Saturday evening, all modern young people on the Top Rank Ballroom opposite the station position , looking for pills and dynamic combat system . Regardless of the revolution of peace and love of the cons - Culture and the arrival of the now famous Reading Festival , local youth were always chew very committed to the clothing mod, ska and diet pills to get high. I had one foot in this world. A friend named Jim worked in clothing store selling local yob Crombie coats and jackets in the Harrington neighborhood boys. I had my band just friends . On Saturday night , we wore our pants Sta - perst , Ben Sherman and Fred Perry, and leader of the "rank " , I would like to discuss with all the girls as their new Missy air separates and pray to God that no one understand I was as queer as a three note books. The other foot was placed in a bolder point. While working at John Lewis , I was living a double life . Every two weeks, I have an excuse to throw on my sweater Mr. Mr. Freedom, freedom or peas imitation satin jockey jacket I sewed be me , because I was so desperate, but should not have the necessary Dosh and pinch the Railway Tavern with some of my gay friends John Lewis . This included my life best friend Biddie , aka James Biddlecombe , who worked in the department of John Lewis - furniture. Together we made our maiden voyage Railway Tavern , where we found local gay. There were still stuck in the 1950s , wrapped in soft, stretch nylon lace shirt sweaters, hear Judy Garland, knocking back gin and tonic ... and much more. Some homosexuals, to discover as Biddie and I were fascinated , were in the grip like a vice strange and remarkable length locked. They drank endless bottles of a mysterious fluid called chlorodyne Dr. J. Collis Browne. Collis Browne was an old school, over-the -counter " medications for cough ," that in the 19th Century was formulated and just happened to contain a blob of opium. We had read Coleridge school and knew all about his addiction to opium and constipation as a result . The fact that these homosexuals were taking large quantities of these ancient remedies Victorian and seemed very happy for us. One night, we discovered a gay antiquated dive into the trunk of his car and watched with fascination several cases of small brown bottles, each with a distinctive Ye Olde worlde Collis Browne label. Biddie squeak caused an uproar when later the same evening , he described his fun with this observation to another old queen, who , as luck would have it , a glutton was even greater than the first Collis Browne dude. These gay were celebrated at the time of homosexuals discreet and wore green carnations. They were less enthusiastic , everyone have their secret addiction exposed by a young wannabe Bowie. We quickly became persona non grata . It was hard to tell who most fear subspecies : speeding, mods and skinheads tweaking football Top Rank or very tight, addicted to opiates fags Railway Tavern . One thing was certain : I need to escape before anyone gay banging my head and threw me on the Collis Browne. Tangentially as it was , seemed acquaintance with Eric , a girl of good faith between the designer to provide a possible loophole. I was in awe of this Eric . Eric was a dairy of the working class, which had come out of our city and the shit was, at least in my view , to hit the big time . I use the word " milk " wide and loose as we did at the time . I aspired to follow in the footsteps of Eric slag. I saw in the distance shimmering mirage of fashion, seductive smoldering on the horizon for most of my short life (I was 21) and I wanted to reach out and touch . Eric the girl separates designers brought me one step closer . At this point , dear reader , I want to emphasize that my hometown reading is by no means away from the crowds of fashionable London. It was , in fact, only half an hour by train . But as the character of John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever look through Manhattan from his home in Bay Ridge , I felt that it might as well be a million miles away . So close and yet so far. Like a good slag of the working class , the girl separates designer Eric made ​​the return trip by train once a week to see his mother. He has never failed to door luggage service to swing her boyfriend , the kind queen high, last update on his whereabouts . It seemed a sadistic pleasure and tantalizing taunt us with stories of the great city and all the glamor with which he now had to take attendance . I was happy to be the object of his sadism. His stories gave me hope . cheap Chanel wallet