The independent retail institution that is Affleck’s Palace in Manchester seems, thankfully, to have survived all that virus-related crap and remains the place to go if you want to buy just about anything that is a little off-beat (and see its previous appearance). There are dozens of stalls like this. I wasn’t in the place to pick up a gas mask, however, in case you were wondering.
My leather jacket, of many years’ use (but surprisingly little photographed, once I looked through the archives), died following the biblical downpour of 9th July, when it got soaked and then was never properly dried because I never thought about it as I dashed off to New Orleans. It was knackered anyway, but its fate was sealed when I next picked it off the rack and… you don’t want to know.
Fortunately, if you want any clothes even remotely in that genre and your budget is limited, there is always Affleck’s. Threatened with closure a few years ago because it didn’t meet the profile of the district’s gentrifiers, it’s pleasing to see it still open and still selling good gear of this type for – in my case – £25. Long may it reign.
Being 42 