Style

URGENT MAJOR ANNOUNCEMENT: The Full Grant

I’ve made a decision today. It’s been bubbling away for a while and to be honest it’s been a long time coming. For too long I’ve had one foot in and one foot out, never quite able to make the leap. I’ve been on the fence, tried to have the best of both worlds but the truth of the matter is that I’m nearly 40 and it’s time.

I’ve decided to go ‘The Full Grant’.

Some of you will straight away know what this means. And if you do, it’s probably because you have been thinking the same. Now you’re not alone. I am joining you. Bodi is joining us too. Once I said I was doing it, I asked Bodi if he’d join me. At first he said he wouldn’t, but after a little thought, half a day, he’s decided he’s in too. And I think we should all consider it.

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This old fella went Full Grant

I’ve always felt I was too young so I only ever dabbled with going ‘Grant’, but I never went ‘full’ and I always ended up back in torn jeans, t-shirt and black jacket. Why not commit? It’s insane not to from a game perspective as the payoff is surely going to be massive. Massive! In my time, I’ve done a few sets in a sports jacket, shirt and tie and I’ve done day game in a suit but I’ve always turned back. Krauser and I used to take suits as a default on our Euro Jaunts and would often be stood in bars in far flung Euro destinations fully fucking suited. It was great for skirt but even better for camaraderie. I remember one night in Sarajevo we just stood at this bar and I said ‘don’t look now our kid, but there’s two bang up skirt who are full on IOIing us, just gawping’. They then pretty much threw themselves at us, drooling at our threads and my conversation.

Both Bodi and Krauser make constant Carey Grant references to me in private conversations all the time. But laziness and fear always held me back from going ‘The Full Grant’. Some days you do just get up and pull on a T Shirt. ‘I’m not leaving the house today so it’s pointless wearing fine clothes, I’ll just wear my trackie bottoms and this old Lacoste’.

Not anymore.

The seed has been in my mind for a while but a few days ago I listened to a Milo podcast with Roger Stone. It’s well worth listening to, it was an awesome podcast about sartorial elegance and it was like they poured water on my seed. Over the last two days every conversation I have had with Bodi has correlated to my realisation that you’re either a man of quality, or you’re not.

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Gianni Agnelli, author of ‘How to clack top drawer skirt well into your 60s’ reportedly went Full Grant at quite a young age.

They mentioned this other guy in the podcast, Gianni Agnelli. He used to own Fiat or some such. So I Googled him and I have to admit, sitting there in my underpants, I was belittled. I realised that at some point a man –  if he wants to step up to the top tier – has to put away the toys of his childhood and wear his masculinity with pride and charisma.

One of my core themes in game has always been that at some point you have to pack it in with the 7’s and just focus on the 8’s and above. It’s hard because it’s a smaller pool to hunt and harder to succeed at. Often you’ll simply have to turn down sure things with 7s and stick to your guns. You’ll only have 4 lays a year rather than 12 but you’re either in game for notches or you’re in game for quality.

Neither answer is right or wrong. I was just in it for quality. I spent my teens and 20s clacking 7’s and the odd 8 without much game.

As we discussed this quality issue over breakfast (breakfast at 4 p.m.), a young man in his early 20’s walked into the cafe with his beautiful young girlfriend. He wore dark blue shorts with a playful red and blue belt, very expensive brown shoes, a striped blue shirt with very dark blue bow tie, a suit jacket, brown shoes and a fine watch. He wore a hat and had a neatly trimmed moustache.

I was furious. “He’s doing it”, I hissed under my breath at Bodi. “Look at him. He’s gone The Full Grant. Don’t you see, this is what we need to do”.  The kid had balls to dress as he did. He blew us all out of the water and he looked like he owned the street. He didn’t look uneasy or look like he felt silly. He’d adopted the mindset. It was his reality. He’d gone ‘The Full Grant’. And here was I dithering.

I decided there and then. The rules are:

1 – For at least 5 days of the week you must wear a suit jacket or sports jacket. Waistcoats are acceptable too as long as they are not leather.

2 – For at least 3 of those days you must wear a tie as well.

3 – You can have two days dressed down. 1 in slacks and polo, 1 however you like.

If you have a full time job that requires the wearing of a suit, then you’re halfway there. All you have to do is make the most of it. I shudder when I look at my early 20s in London. I’d spent as little as possible on my work clothes and more on my personal clothes. Why on earth did I do that? I wore my work clothes 5 days a week. I should have taken utmost pride in them and grasped the opportunity to ‘Fully Grant’.

As I have already said, for women, external beauty is personality. A woman’s presentation and fashion is an essential key to her core principles. How she walks, holds herself and how she dresses tell you how she views herself in the world and you in her world. Well cloth doesn’t make you a man of quality; it’s just often a mark of a man of quality. Core principles and personality traits are often reflected in how we present ourselves. If you dress well you apocalyptically nuke 99% of all other men off the street, since they all dress like pencil necks.

Life is meant to be fun. My girl dresses insanely well. She’s already gone ‘The Full Hepburn’, so I need to step up. People stare at us when we’re together because she looks like she’s off the French Riviera and I look like I’m in Metallica or a car mechanic or something. I’ve no idea how I got her. I opened her while wearing a Hawaiian shirt and flip flops.

Home is where the hunt is

It was around 6am in the morning when the overnight train from Belgrade rolled into Zagreb. Yohan and I had slept well but were still awakened early, so turned up on Zrinjevac with half closed eyes and tired limbs. All the talk in my head from leaving Belgrade had been how I will be moving there next year. At 30% cheaper than Zagreb, it was the only sensible option.

But once again, as my feet hit the streets of this magical city those thoughts became laughable. This really is the place for me, Zagreb is the only place I’ll be happy, at least in the foreseeable future.

Due to unforeseen circumstances it took us until 6pm to get into our apartment, so we’d had to spend 12 hours sitting in coffee shops taking turns to sleep. By the time we were rejoined by Irish, on a flight back from Romania, we were dead on our feet.

We’ve been here almost a week. The team sheet is myself, Yohann, Irish and my new student Rapid Vienna. There has also been talk of an old friend of mine from University making a call by. Welshy. Irish can’t wait to meet him, the stories I have told.

I have probably 3 months worth of blog material backed up based just on the events of the last week. Rapid is an interesting guy and his sets, caught on film, are great for learning material. He’s got a lot of talent too. Also I have some before and after footage of Yohann’s time with me. The difference is astounding, but still a long way to go.

The issue with JJ was resolved. It’s complicated but it turns out I had drastically misread the situation. There’s a blog post in that too.

Hot summer nights feel like a net

Hot summer nights feel like a net

And here I am. Sitting on Jelly Square, in Mala Kavana, tip tapping out a blog post. The greatest place in the world. The Zagrebian girls are far and away above anything I have seen this or any other holiday. Belgrade, Sofia and Tallin just can’t compete with this town. And the town, beautiful, warm, slow paced and village like. The soft colours, yellows, browns and greens all blend together. The deserted old town, the days passed in the bars of Lake Jarun.

I know a very large portion of my readership is Croatian. Most hits I get are UK, US and Croatia. I wonder if you can understand why I love it here? There is nothing like the feeling of a hot summer night on Jelly Square, sipping coconut milks in Mala Kavana.

One thing that does worry me very much is the rise of tourism in this paradise. Every time I come here there are even more loathsome English cockroaches. Drunk, loud and on the verge of violence. I know full well where this is heading. The Zagrebians don’t see it of course. They are oblivious to the horror that is on the horizon, no clue what is about to hit them. If this trend continues then in a few years the elegant, peaceful Tkalceva will be just another Malia. Enjoy what is left of this glorious city while we can. As soon as the UK scum infest, I am afraid I’ll be off to pastures new.

I can’t do approaches here anymore, but I don’t care. I thought I’d have itchy toes. I admit, I do a little, but the best girl I have ever met in my life is sitting right next to me. Can you believe it? The three lads I am with are tearing around the square doing the sets I can’t. Irish has had a dig at day game and is pretty natural with it all things considered. He was a bit uncomfortable with approaching in the street but when he got over it I could see he knows how to talk to girls. Four sets, one instant date and one number. Both really sexy women in my opinion.

It’s like the old RSG days only I feel like the old retired warhorse. All I need is a text from Lee saying ‘dude, I’m running late, start without me’.

Zagreb. I have taken the cream of your women. She’s right here and in love with me. And now my students are going to start coming here and they will take the rest.

Stories and material to come.