A Clean Crisp White Shirt

A few months ago, I was sent walking around Central with around HK$700 on me. A good morning - I knew where to go. Spoilt for choice with the likes of Brooks Brothers, Paul Smith and Zegna. 2 hours later, I was paying for a vanilla latte at the Jardine House starbucks with a new Ralph Lauren dress shirt folded, boxed, and packed into a blue paper bag.

A few months ago, I was sitting at a red table in Dozo! in the middle of the day. Eating a sashimi salad before heading up to the Eurostore for a bottle of Calistoga water and a issue of The List.

A few months ago, I took my tired feet into the Brunch club. James Blunt played on repeat until it got annoying. I had the luxury of being free in the mornings. Free enough to do all this time-wasting shit.

A few months ago, I was sitting in the Jardine House Starbucks, working on the Star Magazine crossword puzzle. I was probably feeling happy because Starbucks guy was there. 50% of the time waiting for Kenji to get there, 50% of the time waiting for Starbucks guy to walk towards my sofa. 100% of the time doing nothing important.

Sitting with Kenj at Archie B's, eating a Taco salad and bitching about people we didn't like. Skipping early morning PE class to get breakfast with Nelson. Trying out that new restaurant I had read about in HK magazine...I liked Casa Nostra a lot. All of this.

Breakfast at 1am. A box of Cul-de-sac fries lasted a 30 minute walk. I looked forward to Breakfast. Trekking up to the Flying Pan was a good feeling in the morning. I miss breakfast. Eating with Kenj during his lunch break or deciding last minute to eat dinner at Miso. All of this.

A few months ago, I knew the city. I could walk around Central alone if I wanted to in the early morning. I could have been sitting forever, in front of Robert Doisneau's black and white photographs. I could fall in love with my city at 5.30am every day.

It's been almost 3 months since I've arrived in Los Angeles. It's fucking crazy.

(Suit by Duncan Quinn)