First up – sorry for shortage of new fashion victims. The fashion victims of Shoreditch are still there but our fuzzy photography specialist ‘admin’ is in quarantine cos he’s on a swine flu ‘chain’. Yep, dead straight – its a big skive.

Release the victims

I spotted these two guys on the way to work this morning & am just loving their quirky retro power-dress combo.

If I’d spotted them anywhere else I’d assume its fancy dress, but this is a cold Tuesday morning in Shoreditch. They’re probably on the way to meet the bank manager to seek funding to open up yet another vintage shop, cos we really need one of those.

Bonus points for their little queefs pointing out from under their jauntily sat hats, their manbags and moustaches. Did I mention the short suits? We need to invent a scoring system, cos this shit would win.

A lot of people crave the acceptance of the uber-cool Shoreditch set. So much so that they go to extremes to create the coveted look.

Some guys just aren’t content with carrying a day-glo man bag, rolling their skinny jeans up to show some schmexy ankle, and making sure the jeans are so tight and slung so low that their arse crack is basically free range.

This guy has gone one step further and tried to literally blend in with the other twats and their surroundings. He has dyed his hair tree-green, donned a shameful royal blue shell-suit jacket, the same colour as the car he is stood in front of, and is now basically invisible.

Thanks to Lisa for the photo!