Our dear friend Mr. Soames has been deep into wardrobe discussions of late, and we approve heartily. Our thin wallet oftentimes prevents following through on his advisings, but we try. And where does he find such good links? How about this magazine, called The Chap, which blazes a fiery trail for the cause of good dressing:

Society is withering, like the fruit on some diseased vine. We have become the playthings of corporations intent on converting our world into a gargantuan shopping precinct. Pleasantness and civility are being discarded as the worthless ephemera of a bygone age - an age when men doffed their hats at the ladies, and small children could be counted upon to mind one's Jack Russell while one took a mild and bitter in the local hostelry.

Instead, we live in a world where children are huge, inelegant hooded creatures lurking on street corners; the local hostelry has been taken over by a chain and serves chemically-laced lager which aggravates the nervous system. Needless to say, the Jack Russell is no longer there upon one's return.

The Chap proposes to take a stand against this culture of vulgarity. By turning ancient rituals of courtesy and dress into revolutionary acts, the immaculately attired Anarcho-Dandyist can use the razor-sharp crease in his trousers to press home his advantage. Once presented with the dazzling sight of rakishly angled trilbies, gleaming brogues and exquisitely mixed dry martinis, hoi polloi's long-cherished nylon sportswear and strawberry milkshakes will suddenly lose their appeal.

Good stuff, but don't make my martini too dry. I want to taste that vermouth behind the crispness of the gin. Might I also suggest joining the Country Gentlemen's Association, and shopping for your waistcoat at Horse Country Saddlery. We must look sharp while walking the corgis, mustn't we?