Haute Couture Meets The Sausage In This Cheeky Little Number
Hello,
As you may or may not know, Gfb has been charting the rise of the Sausage amongst the great and good as a must have fashion accessory. Our money correspondent, Brucie Bonus (Brisbane born and bred) has just filed this copy that would indicate that the sausage is now becoming de-rigeur amongst the City of London elite.
Phew, was I bushed.
I’d spent last Friday in the office finishing a piece on Paul Hollywood entitled ‘Good Baker or Master Baker?’ so decided to stop off at Pullers Champagne Bar in Jerk Street to meet some real people and swallow something overpriced, so in I slipped.
“Buy Me 5 Year Sausage!”
Rogue Sausage Trader
Strewth, let me tell you brother, it’s not often I’m outta place in the fashion stakes but I felt like the only guy in the room who couldn’t geddit up and for a full blooded Aussie, that’s a hard call. Man, overnight, the World of Fashion’s gone sausage mad! Everyone’s wearing them. I felt like a Leftie at Thatcher’s funeral.
Of course, the City big boys were giving it large and had obviously been spending a bit of bonus cash at Barbecoa. The sheer thrill of witnessing the purchase of a Brut Krug with a Saveloy gently caressing the forehead nearly made me do one.
But get this, the joy of sporting a Follicle Frankfurter or a Mohican Mortadella doesn’t have to come at a price. A simple twist of Salami from the local Deli pinned provocatively to a front curl is guaranteed to make any bar stool wet. The guy next to me had apparently already ditched his Winter Salami for a Pepperette.
Things are moving quickly in the World of Weisswurst. You can’t afford to be caught with yesterday’s Butifarra on yer Barnet can you? Anyway, he looked a bit of a Bun Duster to me so I moved next to a man wearing a Rugby tie. He’d just ordered Tapas. Suddenly he guffawed loudly and a large piece of Chorizo flew from his mouth and nestled, rather conveniently to the left of my parting. Perfect.I could have spent all night in the bathroom and not been so pleased.
So where did this yummy fashion come from?
It had to be Paris or Milan I intimated to the Rugby man who turned out to be South African and sported a rather large and common Boerewors on his cropped hair. Well Lawdy Lawdy, it turns out that the ‘A Listers’ in London have been wearing them for yonks.
Pippa-roni!
Started with the Stones in a Ford Transit. Jagger asleep with his sarnie gaping, cheeky Charlie Watts, always the joker, picks up a Chipolata and sticks it in Jagger’s hair and the rest is history. Albeit not very interesting history. By the end of the tour it was a sausage-fest. Natch.
This week’s fashion tips:
On the way up -
Allen’s of Mayfair
Chadwicks
Ginger Pig
Waitrose
On the way down-
Iceland
Cheltenham Racecourse
Farmfoods
Road Kill.
Bonzer!
“What’s that Skip?”
Who Put This Fackin’ Sausage On Me Noggin?”
