In Britain, Panama is famous for two things: the canal and canoe man. Back in 2002, John Darwin faked his own death and fled to Panama City with his wife, who, following his “canoeing accident”, claimed £1m in insurance and pension pay outs.
Every year, a select group of people get together to swap state secrets. I’m not talking about the nuclear codes, trade agreements or defence budgets. These are secrets of a more intimate kind: how does Obama like his steak?
It took some time to convince my wife that she should be driving something a bit more “off-road”. She didn’t buy into the whole mums-in-their-Range-Rovers thing, and would have been happier with a posh saloon.
If ever there was a place where the buildings should huddle together for warmth it was here, but the roughly strewn archipelago of bungalows stand apart from each other, slightly standoffish in their brown pebbledash.
The capital’s position as a powerhouse in the world of menswear was reinforced last week by another spectacular London Collections: Men. Here are some looks from the great fashion minds who made it happen.
NOW is the time to stand athwart history. Now is the time for a band of brothers to unite against the barbarian at the gates; now is the time to take up arms, to stand up (provided you’ve not drunk too much) against the skinny cocktail.