Day 128. Love, 15?

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

I have one weird, irrational phobia.

I am entirely weirded out by the idea, or reality of anything with a fuzzy texture having contact with my mouth. This goes for Kleenex, paper towels, and tennis balls, etc. I actually cringe as I write this, just thinking about it, especially tennis balls.

I encountered tennis balls a lot growing up, they were all over the house. My dad, was, and is, a college tennis coach, so I’ve always been around them. I don’t know what the circumstances were for them to have touched my mouth. Maybe, it was just one bad experience. I know that I couldn’t escape them, though. We all played tennis growing up and into college.

These days, I don’t play very often, although, every time I do I want to play more. On Tuesday, I saw an ad for a job opening at a tennis club in Beverly Hills for a front desk clerk, so I applied. Today, I got a call saying that I’ve got an interview for Thursday. Oh yeah. I have two interviews back to back, the tennis club and the Apple Store.

Now, let me make clear, just because I grew up around tennis, as a coach’s son in Iowa, does not mean I know the first thing about what to expect at a tennis club in Beverly Hills. I think you can become really involved in tennis in two ways. One, grow up with your dad as a coach so you can get free balls and play on public courts near your house. Two, you can be really rich and play at country clubs. I am not in the latter’s world…yet.

The woman asked me if I knew how to string racquets. Stringing racquets involves a specialized machine thing, it’s a pretty particular skill. We had a racquet stringing machine for awhile when I was in high school. I learned how to string a racquet and did it a total of two times. I then put that skill in the pile of other high school skills I wouldn’t ever use again like, how to use iambic pentameter, knowing what a protractor does, and farting into Nalgene bottles. I let my brother, Jon, take the stringing responsibilities.

When she asked me about stringing, I said, ” Oh geez, I did know how to, like fifteen years ago.” Then I remembered to be better at BS, so I said, “Yep. I know how to.”

Before my interview Thursday, I will shop for a sweater to drape around my neck, because that’s what they do at Beverly Hills tennis clubs, right? Right?

Like a toddler in a new environment, I will just have to be reminded around all those tennis balls, not to put everything in my mouth. If I do, I will freak out.

Day 127. Ridiculous Search Engine Terms

Tuesday, June 29, 2011

I need to get a job. This is getting stressful. Today, I registered with another extras casting place because I’ve had no luck otherwise. While I was in there, Michelle waited in the car. We got a ticket while she sat there. Michelle tried to argue, but to no avail. $58. Woe is us.

Today, I applied for jobs as a valet, a front desk clerk, and an assistant. None of those excite me, but I would excitedly do any of them.

Let’s cheer this up a bit.

One of the great things about having a website is that  you get to see what search engine terms brought people to your website. I would like to share those with you. This is something that I used to do on my old website, The Mystery Hour (which I swear I have not abandoned and will post again).

For each search engine term, I will provide you with a disappointment rating the person must have felt upon being directed to my website.

Search Engine Terms

-girl sitting the bed. This is either missing an “on” between sitting and the, or an “h” in sitting. Either way, creepy. Disappointment level: Waking up to a girl watching you sleep.

-the foreign exchange student staying at my house was so hot. They all are. Disappointment level: Finding out the foreign exchange student is a distant relative.

-what is the name of a trick to discomfort someone? I believe it is called: Search For Ways to Discomfort Someone on the Internet, Then Tell Them About it. Disappointment level: Same as your current relationship status.

-studies about mooching.  It makes me supremely happy that the internet associates me with mooching, it does know all. Disappointment level: Recognizing it’s time to move out.

-what to wear for an interview at ben sherman. I have no idea, but whatever it is, make sure it’s tight. Proper blood circulation is frowned upon. Disappointment level: Trying on skinny jeans and remembering part way up that you have normal sized thighs.

-sitting here thinking about that time we were sitting in the back seat. just the three of us and how you put your arm around her. You should not have been there. The car may have had four wheels, but the back seat only had three. Disappointment level: Having to look out the window while they made out.

-average year for shaving facial hair. 1987. Disappointment level: Finding out you were born after the average year for shaving facial hair.

-i had to figure out myself before i figured out a mystery. Thanks for checking in, Scooby. Disappointment level: Fred’s ascot.

Day 126. Confidence Restored?

Monday June 27, 2011

I had interview number 3 today of this week. This was for the Apple Store. It was the first one I was kind of excited about, so I was a little nervous. It was a group interview. Before this week, I had never done a group interview, now I have done three. I won’t go into too many details because I I would like to get this job. There were some good characters in the interview, but I will hold off on that as well. It lasted like three hours, and I think I did pretty well.

Let’s talk about confidence though.

After the interview I was really excited because it went well and I thought, “Oh yeah, I can be impressive and well spoken, I totally forgot about that.” I am by no means cocky, and never have been, you can ask my brother Jon, for whom I dedicated my don’t be cocky efforts when we were kids. However, I’ve always felt confident and I know what I’m good at and don’t really get intimidated by people or situations. Like a lot of adults, I’ve just felt like I have a baseline level of confidence.

As much as I would like to think that it is based only internally, I’ve realized that is not necessarily the case, because of the surprising nature of the feeling of confidence, meaning that it had been lacking. In my previous life, I had many instances in a given day, or week, that made me feel competent, or successful, or impressive. A few months ago, I mostly only had positive reinforcement and was surprised by few negative instances.

I guess doing job interviews that weren’t a fit, and being bypassed in auditions were speaking to me a bit. Given the void of positive situations career wise, the negative ones seeped into my confidence a bit. I think this can be why people searching for a job for months or years will get so discouraged, and people that are surrounded positive reinforcement don’t understand so well.

This is not to say I’m down and discouraged, I was just surprised by the surprise of feeling capable. I hadn’t lost confidence, I had just forgotten that I have confidence.

Later in the day, I got a call back for a one on one interview with Apple.

Then, Michelle and I went to have dollar tacos with some friends at a restaurant to celebrate Michelle’s birthday. Yes, she’s been here a little over a week. Yes, she already had people throw here a birthday party.

Control-Command-Power

Day 125. He’s Got to Be Naked Under That Towel

Sunday, June 26, 2011

I’m not sure why we were in a hotel lobby, but that is where we were for my second interview in a week. This time I was interviewing for a writing position with a magazine. It went pretty well, I think the guy liked me, so I will not give a play by play of it. Play by plays are for the interviews that I think I have no chance at. We’ll see.

We then went to church, and not much else the rest of the day. I stayed up super late capturing footage from old Mystery Hours to put together a hosting reel. Again, the reel is your video resume. Just like I currently have professional, acting, writing, retail, and serving resumes, I also have acting, commercial, voiceover, and now hosting reels. This is getting ridiculous. I’m tempted to make a Hey, Just Trust Me, I’d Be Perfect For You, Call Me reel and resume.

Since we didn’t do much today I will relay a story I forgot to share from Friday.

We were laying on the beach in beautiful Malibu. We had been laying there awhile and were talking after we had both been napping. When we had awoken from our slumber there were a lot more people on the beach. There was one guy in particular who was near us. He was middle aged, maybe a former surfer with somewhat scraggly blonde hair and his shirt off.

At a certain point, he got up and walked to the edge of the water. He caught my eye because he seemed to only be wearing a small towel.

Jeff: Hey, you think that guy’s naked under that towel?

Michelle: I don’t know

Jeff: $10 says he’s is.

Michelle: Yeah, it looks pretty weird

Jeff: He’s got to be naked under that towel.

As if on cue, the man bends over to feel the water with his hands.

Michelle and Jeff: Whooooaaaaaa! Aaaaaagggghhhh!

His bending over revealed his conch shell and hermit crabs.

Michelle:  That settles that.

Jeff: He appears to be a Philistine.

Day 124. Save the Princess, Mario

Saturday, June 25, 2011

I went to a seminar put on by LA Casting today. It was in a senior citizen center. They’ve already decorated for 4th of July. The seminar was actually pretty good. The special guest was a woman who has directed many TV shows. She spoke about her experiences, brought a couple of actors along to demonstrate a scene, and answered questions.

My big takeaway: I have a ton to learn. I think we tend to take notice of things when they show us that we have a lot to learn, or that we’re good at what we do. The things in the middle just kind of happen and then pass by. Today was one of those, “Yikes, I have no idea what I’m doing moments.” It made me want to take some film acting classes and learn a lot more about the industry.

I kind of feel like Mario running to save the Princess. I’m running and jumping and making my way, sometimes I feel small, and sometimes I feel big, and other times, I even feel like I’ve got the super star and fire flower. and I’m in destructible. I’m picking off turtle shells and the little owl thingys. But, those are fleeting. Aways in, I’ll get knocked down and have to start over, but I don’t mind, I’m learning more each time. The next time through, I might miss the growing mushroom thingy, but I learned about the secret place down the pipe that has the coin free for all. Eventually, I make it to the end and I feel like, “Alright, I know this, I’ve got this down. I know what I’m doing here.” I jump and shimmy down the flagpole, run into the castle and they tell me, “The Princess is not here, she’s in another castle.”

Crap.

I thought I had it figured out. It turns out there are a lot more levels and a lot more worlds. People are going to throw fireballs at me, I’m going to have to go through an underwater level, there are going to be creatures throwing hammers at me. There are going to be lava pits. The point is, every time I think I’ve got it down is when I learn how little I know and how long the process is. The only way to know more is to experience more and more.

But, the thing I might run my head into next will explode open revealing a mushroom, and I’m big again. Or, I may get a chance to warp ahead.

I’m just going to keep running my head into things and keep trying to slide down pipes to make sense of it all.

A Start A Start A Start A Start A Start

Day 123. I Got a Sunburn For Your Birthday

Friday, June 24, 2011

From my childhood through today, there has always been one day every summer, early in the summer, that I forget and not wear sunscreen. After being outside for awhile I start to be able to feel my skin move on my face. I can feel the creases being made with different facial expressions. Then, the next morning I always waddle into the bathroom for the morning relieving, look in the mirror and think, “Dang it,”  and then waddle back to bed and fall asleep.

There are those that don’t really burn and wonder what a sunburn feels like. I will tell you, it feels like regret. All you had to do was simply and easily take 11 seconds to put a cream on your face. Not worth it.

Today, I got burnt. Michelle and I went to Malibu to El Matador beach. It was cool and cloudy for most of it, so I didn’t think about sunscreen, to the disapproval of my mother, I’m sure. I was wearing a hat, sunglasses, a hoodie, and shorts. So, I got the bottom part of my face burnt, I have a burn line a couple inches up my neck, and my shins are red. By the way, why do noses get more burnt than the skin surrounding them? Is it really because they’re like an inch closer to the sun? No way. By that reasoning, tall people would get burnt more. No way.

My burn was not the point of the day. The point of the day was that it was Michelle’s birthday. So, we went to Malibu to hang out on the beach, because she loves the beach and she can do whatever she wants on her birthday. We explored, napped, played catch with the frisbee, ate seafood, and sat looking at the waves. Perfect birthday for Michelle. For me, that would have only been a perfect birthday if there was more laser tag in that list.

We figured out that I have been around for 10 of her birthdays, more than a third of her life. Amazingly, we were able to recount all of them. The most infamous one was the first one when I got her a Detroit Lakes, MN t-shirt.

It was a white t-shirt.

That was too big.

I did not know her as well then.

For me, the ultimate gift is a one of a kind t-shirt, from a local store, that you wouldn’t be able to get anywhere else.

It was a bad gift.

She did not like it.

We had an argument.

Looking back, I think she was right.

Today was better.

Happy Birthday to my wife.

Day 122. “Can You Give A Condescending Handshake? Cuz I Just Did.”

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Here’s the thing about being a struggling actor. If there is an audition you go to it. Even if it is far away and pays very little. Even if it means not going to a taping of the TV dance sensation, So You Think You Can Dance, with your wife. Even if it means being scoffed at by a small fantasy novel loving little man who is holding the audition.

So, Michelle had tickets to SYTYCD today, and I love both popping and locking, yet I could not go because I had an audition in Orange County for a GPS installation industrial. I was auditioning for the role of host, teaching people how to install their GPS antenna on a variety of surfaces.

I practiced some in the morning while sitting in bed. “THE IDEAL POSITION IS AS CLOSE TO THE GPS RECEIVER AS POSSIBLE, WHILE STILL PROVIDING LEAST A TWO HUNDRED AND SEVENTY DEGREE VIEW OF THE SKY.” I tried to sound knowledgeable and warm while I tried to imagine myself imagining what a 270 degree view of the sky looked like. I left without printing out the sides (the script for the audition) because I try not to print too much off of my host family’s printer, and because I had it on my phone, and because every audition I’ve been to has a pile of them to look at while you wait. This would come back to haunt me.

I hopped in my car for the hour plus drive to the audition. I practiced to myself in my car. “A HIGH EMI ANTENNA, FOR LOCATIONS THAT ARE SUBJECT TO A HIGH DEGREE OF ELECTROMAGNETIC INTERFERENCE”

I finally arrived at the place. Some auditions are held by casting directors on a studio lot, or in a nice audition room. Others are held at small places that seem to give off the air of, “we don’t really know what we’re doing.” Those usually are conducted by a guy who is desperate to give off the air of, “I know what I’m doing!”

I signed in at the receptionist’s desk as she got the guy holding the audition. He was fairly sloppy wearing khaki’s and a red polo shirt. He made up for his general sloppy appearance by buttoning his shirt all the way to the top.

From here, the story will be told by the vantage point of the guy holding the audition. The facts remain the same.

Oh great, the receptionist just told me that another person is here to host. I was just going to get twinked by a warlock in WoW. I’d be ticked off if she wasn’t so hot. I better go greet him. 

“Hi, I’m Jeremy,” I say holding my hand out. Oh geez, I’ve been holding my hand out for like a minute and he’s still signing in on the clipboard. Bad sign.

“Hi, Jeff,” he says to me. His hands smell like Strawberry Shortcake Extra Dessert Gum.

We walk back to the audition room. When I say, “room,” what I really mean is an alcove in a well trafficked hallway. I sit down and look up at him. He doesn’t seem to understand my body language. Idiot.

“Say your name to the camera,” I explain.

“Jeff Houghton,” he says.

Then, he lays this one on me, “I don’t have sides with me, I just have them on my phone.”

What?!

All I can muster is, “Okay, great. Great,” in as sarcastic tone as I can possibly say it. I make a marking on my clipboard.

He starts in. Not bad actually, for an idiot. However, he has to keep looking down at his phone to get the next line. Bush league.

I’m going to screw with him.

“Okay, now let’s see it like you’re really trying to sell it to me,” I say. He pretends like he’s excited for it. He has no idea that I’m just screwing with him because I see him as a composite character of all the people that picked on me in my childhood and screwing with this yahoo is my one chance to get back at all of them.

He obliges. His idea of “selling it,” is to just speak louder. Moron.

“Okay, now let’s see it like you’re speaking to a room of kindergartners.” That was the age it all went downhill for Jeremy. It’s not my fault my shorts ripped, it was bad stitching. Stop calling me The Crack.

His kindergartner voice is a little creepy.

“Okay, now let’s see it like you’re speaking to a room of PhDs.” He’s actually going to do it. In what scenario would you be speaking to a room of PhDs about GPS installation? Imbecile. That one is for mocking my jeans in 8th grade. How was I supposed to know they were girl’s jeans? They were all on the clearance rack together.

Room full of PhDs to this idiot apparently means talk like a robot.

Now, I’ll really screw with him some more.

“There were more to the sides after the first one I sent out,” I say.

“Really?” I didn’t get them says the pale rider. I like to see him squirm.

I am sure to communicate to him that that is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard a human being say. Then, get this, I hand him a paper with the sides on it. It has the new stuff and the stuff he was just stammering his way through trying to read off his phone. I’ve had them the whole time! I just wasn’t giving them to him! I wasn’t using them, I was just holding them! Take that! Maybe now you’ll believe that I spilled my milk and did not pee my pants in 5th grade. It was milk! It was milk.

He reads through the new stuff as people walk by, since they only gave me a hallway alcove to conduct the auditions.He seems flustered.

Can you give a condescending handshake? Because if you can, I just did.

Booyah.

Jeremy wins.

It’s me, Jeff, again. That’s exactly how it went. After my four minutes of auditioning, I went back to the car and drove an hour and a half back home. We went to our friends, Evan and Kerstin’s house for dinner in Santa Monica. They are the opposite of Jeremy. It was nice.

Day 121. Job Interview Play by Play

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

“Well, I’m 19, I’m a fashion merchandising major at Santa Monica College. I used to work in a store downstairs…” This is how the girl sitting next to me was answering the question of, “Can you tell me about yourself?” We were crowded in the dressing room area of the Ben Sherman store at a nearby mall for our group interview, both hoping to get the position of sales associate. I wore my tightest pants hoping to fit in, but as I saw the employees wearing their tight pants, I felt like I looked like a member of the 1994 Arkansas basketball team in contrast.

The Girl and I were the only two that had shown up and the manager with the cool tattoos was asking us the standard interview questions. All I’m thinking of as I’m listening to The Girl is, “Yep, 19. 19, huh? Yep, 19.” I would have loved to have had this job at 19, you’re near a food court, you can get your friends discounts, and you can make fun of the 33 year olds that come in trying to look cool.

I did not tell my age to start out the answer. I answered all right, I suppose. Ben Sherman is a British brand that only  has five stores in the US and is situated on the luxury floor of this multi floored shopping mall. I was happy that retail is something I actually have experience in. I too was 19 when I worked retail. So, when this hip, international, upscale store’s manager asked me about my retail experience I simply explained, “I worked at the University of Iowa Hawk Shop, the apparel store for the athletic department.” That seemed not so hip and upscale by comparison, but I, at least, didn’t mention that we sold black and gold striped overalls and cornheads.

I remember when I spent a lot of time looking for a job in Springfield that after awhile I could easily switch to interview mode where I sounded like an agent talking up a great client, only it was me talking about myself in first person. You know what I mean, where you hear yourself saying things like, “My greatest weakness? I work too hard sometimes.” “Or, “I implemented a strategic plan that was well respected amongst my peers.”

I’m not in that mode yet.

I need to get there. This was a sales job with daily sales goals. I hardly mentioned my last job, where my old boss liked to stress that we were doing sales work. I never liked being pegged that way so I guess I didn’t own it enough. Plus, it was my first group interview, so I was trying to be deferential and respectful to The Girl. Good customer service in my mind, lack of assertiveness in theirs, I’m sure. The BS train is passing me by, but now, at least, I have a horse, and I’m riding alongside the train hoping to jump on. I’m getting there is what I’m saying.

The manager with the cool tattoos then said, “You guys want to do a fun activity?” We said, “Sure!” We walked out to the floor and she said, “Okay, here’s the scenario, an international man walks into the store and he needs to get an outfit for an important business meeting that night. Pick out an outfit for him.”

Dammit.

My only ventures into the trendy world are when I have my guide, Michelle. I wondered how quickly I could get Skype up and going on my phone, but decided against it. I grabbed a suit, good choice. Then, I started grabbing different shirts and holding up to the shirt to the suit, while tilting my head because that’s what the knowledgeable Girl was doing. I’m thinking, be cool and trendy. I’m also thinking, what are the mixing and matching rules Michelle has told me? I can’t remember. I can’t remember!

I grabbed a gray suit, a blue button down, and a black tie with stripes. I explained to the manager with cool tattoos that I decided to go with a conservative look since it was a business meeting. The male assistant manager with the turquoise checkered shirt buttoned to the top, rolled up tight white pants, and dress shoes with no socks didn’t seem to approve.

We filled out an application and we were done. I don’t know if I’ll hear back. I don’t know if I really want to hear back. I hate selling, and the idea of sales goals bugs me. I’d do it, but I wouldn’t like it.

The Girl and I left through the glass doors, going our separate ways.

I’m sure she went home where she lives with her parents, because that’s what 19 year olds do.

I went home where I live with my friend’s parents, because that’s what 33 year olds do.

Later that night, we went and had dinner with my friends Gio and JD. JD’s dad sent him a bunch of ham for his birthday, so we ate that. Then, we saw our friend, Nicci, sing jazz at this cool, intimate club. We did not stick around long enough to hear Wynton Marsalis play, much to my dismay. He’s a legend and I was trying to get people to stay, but no one wanted to. We went back to Gio’s apartment where Michelle was having such a great time with my new friends that I had to tell her that we needed to go when it got late. That is rare with us. 99% of the time it’s the other way around.

Day 120. Inner City Games

Monday, June 21, 2011

The hard streets of LA.

Young men are out hustling, doing whatever they can to make it. They feel forgotten by society. They’re forced to make difficult decisions. Join a gang for security and protection, or face life on their own, where nothing is handed to them. Either way, it’s a hard life. These young men know a lot of heartache, know a lot of loss. They feel lucky to make it out alive.

The one break many get is when they get on the court, playing the game they love. Sure, there’s trash talking, maybe some shoving, but on the court there are rules, it’s a safe place. And, it’s a chance to exercise and get out some of that angst. You can picture it, a few sweaty guys in the noon day sun, going left, going right, and slamming it home. It’s intense, and it’s one of the few times they get to feel free. “What’s the score?” yells one of them. “Let!” yells another. To many gang banging inner city men, ping pong is a refuge. To others it’s a way out. There is nothing more ubiquitous than urban youth sweating around a table, on which they play tennis.

Today, I ventured to downtown LA and entered that world as an outsider. I left one of the gang.

My friend, Scott, from my Level 2 improv class invited people out to join him in a ping pong tournament at a bar downtown. I jumped at the chance. I love ping pong, and I’ve never played in a tournament. My dad and grandparents used to play in tournaments some, but I’ve never done it in an organized way. We had a table growing up and we used to play quite a bit. There were a few hazards. You had to avoid the shelf on the wall in the corner, too near the table, the wall wasn’t very far behind you, and if you were playing with my friend, Matt, you had to duck after he lost match point because there was a good chance his paddle would come flying toward you. Those hazards just made me stronger, more ready for big city ping pong.

We grabbed a drink and sized up the competition. There was the older guy, who arrived on a motorcycle with a lady. He brought his own paddles in a special bag. There was another guy who was yelling at himself and all too intense. There was also a guy who put spin on the ball that I had never seen. I felt like Woody Harrelson in White Men Can’t Jump. No one would choose me for their team, but maybe underneath it, I can play. Michelle was my Rosie Perez.

They put the bracket up on a white board. I drew Scott first round. First, the older guy lost. He got on his motorcycle and drove off into the night. A couple of matches later, it was my turn with Scott. It was 3-2, then 5-5, then 8-7, a real seesaw battle. Eventually, I won. It was my first tournament victory. I tried to get the others to start the wave, to no avail, apparently, that’s not a thing you do there.

My next match was against a guy wearing a Nike shirt. He must have had the shirt because he was sponsored by them for ping pong. He crushed me.

I think it’s important to experience all of LA, not just Beverly Hills, Hollywood, and the beach. I think it’s important to go experience the rough and tough side as well, see how the real people live. I think I did that tonight.

I got next.

Day 119. Three Job Interviews

Monday, June 20, 2011

[I wrote today's article over on Fair City News. It will make sense to Sprinfieldians, but probably not to others.]

I have three job interviews this week. I have had one the previous four months.

The first one is on Wednesday and is for a retail store called Ben Sherman. I’ve looked them up online and they look very British and very hipster-preppy. Michelle is going to help dress me for it so I look like I know what I’m talking about. Michelle does not approve of my plan to use a fake British accent during my interview. Since it’s a British clothing store, I think it can only help my chances.

Interviewer: Jeff, what skills do you think will help you in this job?

Jeff: Well, Guvna! I think it’s time for a spot of tea! Cheerio. Chim-chiminey, chim-chiminey, chim-chim-chabob, I know what I want, what I want is a job.

It’s also a group interview, which makes me really excited. Not to actually go through with it, but so I can report back the experience on my blog.

I have one on Sunday for a staff writer position with a Hollywood magazine. This one intrigues me, but I also think it might be full time, which I’m not that interested in right now.

On Monday, I have one at an Apple store that my friend, Jeremiah, helped hook me up with. As my Mac friends can attest, I’m great with a Mac. Let me rephrase that, “I’m great at asking them questions about how to use my Mac.” Actually, I use a Mac and an iPhone, so I’m not completely ignorant.

I have an audition on Thursday as a host for an industrial about how to install a GPS antennae.

Tonight, Michelle and Ross and I saw the most impressive improv show I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a ton. iO-West had a United States of Improv tournament where people from different states formed teams. So, there was a New York team made up of New Yorkers, etc. The team that won was from North Dakota…with one guy. He won the whole thing doing one man improv. His reward was a show on Monday nights for a month.

It was unbelievable. He had a guy playing keyboards and it was half musical. It was funny, had a coherent storyline, and was entertaining.

So impressive.

I hope to be half that impressive in trying to convince Ben Sherman I can sell really tight clothes. “Oh, love, you’ll look bloody lovely in this shirt eating bangers and mash!”