A Child of The Jago

Despite what you may think.


By “shopping” I mean the actual act of walking about trying to find stuff to buy. Online shopping however, that is one of my many yet to conquer vices…. What do you expect from a hermit?
No crowds. No snotty sales assistants. No queues.


There is one shop that I love to visit above all others in London. Perhaps you have heard of it before? It borrowed it’s name from the Arthur Morrison tale;

A Child of A Jago

10 Great Eastern Street

London EC2A 3NT

I must admit. I feel rather odd refering to this place as a shop! It’s more of a boutiquey, vintagey, bazaar, wunderkammer wonderful place where you can buy some high-end pieces of fancy. I am aware that their garments are stocked in Selfridges but I would much rather browse in here.

I have seen all sorts during my visit here over years.

Napoleonic hats, Native American head dresses, taxidermy birds, period costume, old records, splendidly modern tees and the most fantastic hats you can ever hope to find.

And even some inventive Christmas decor:
A Child of A Jago transcends fashion.

I must also come clean and relinquish the fact that I have never bought anything from here (though I am saving up for a hat). I pop in whenever I can to get hold of their in-house publication;

“The Daily Terror”

This is one of a select “hardly a handful” of magazines that has the oomph to inspire me to delve into it’s pages. Since I am confessing a plenty today, I must spill that the Daily Terror’s “free but not cheap” articles have been much inspiration to me. If you read it. You would know!

As it is a Friday, I thought that I might indulge you with some scans from issue 3 for you weekend reading pleasure:
(Mappaman! This is the stuff)

Click to enlarge.

My favourite quote from this article has to be:

“I gain more inspiration from the rescued images such as these than the H&M zombies parading the streets, clubland fakes and flakes…and the Fashion Week sideliners who are so relentlessly desperate to be photographed for the now defunct pages of self-appointed style bibles such as (animated yawn) ‘i-D’. I’m just so repelled by unimaginative, infantile, generic shitheads working gauche chic, totally repulsed by lamelamelame London bollox”

While we are on the subject of “style”, here is one of my favourite articles:

Have a good weekend.

Word has reached my unlearned ear from the brilliant Nyanzi Report that it is in fact Vivienne Westwood’s son that owns the label. The guy behind Agent Provocatuer, although he sold it now to start Jago.
Great story.

Thanks NR I think I have spoken to him about his hanging birds. He was really nice, let me take pics and everything!