If he must wear Jack Wills…

You’ve tried and you’ve tried, you’ve chucked Vogue and Drapers (and all the rest of the magazines in that tottering pile where your work should be) at his head until your hands have more blood on them than our Halloween feature.  Yet still he’s drawn to it like a moth to an old school sporty English flame.  Yup, Jack Wills.  Jack Wills – that company which you thought was bloody fantastic when you first got here and have been wearing as pjs since your second term.  That company which accidently comes into fashion once every ten years (rather like monsoon) and continues to congratulate itself on that fact for the next fifteen.  That company that charges seventy quid for a pair of trackies and doesn’t even have the courtesy to be tongue-in-cheek about it. Oh yes.  And their JW logo is all over your boyfriend’s upper thigh.  Well if you really can’t stop him, then do try and distract him long enough to shove him into the below . . .