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Since watching this series I have changed completely, I really think I have a new look at what it is to be a man, a notion that is more important today than ever in my opinion.
The day begins, I am awakened with a start by vivid memories of my many traumas: the time my mother caught me jerking off to a photo of Cillian Murphy, for example. I get up with a long sigh and wash my face with cold water, staring at myself in the mirror as if I were a stranger to myself. I whisper "who are you? huh? who the fuck are you": BBC series PEAKY BLINDERS with CILLIAN MURPHY taught me how to be tortured.
I leave my house walking in slow motion to punk blues (tom waits for example) while smoking my gypsy between my thumb and forefinger, after which I throw her violently to the side, taking care not to put ashes on my bespoke 540g cotton jacket whose majestic fall and drape as well as the six-on-two crossover design give me an unequaled presence, because yes the BBC's PEAKY BLINDERS series also opened the doors to me. masculine elegance and the sartorial world
Admittedly I spend all my RSA on second-hand bespoke clothes, but I'm not a vulgar asos fuckboy, no... My style exudes something decidedly masculine, a style that doesn't apologize, a style that smells of old bourbon, cheap cigars and underground boxing in 1920s London, in short; a style that suits me perfectly.
On my way, two little bourgeois turn around, it's not every day that they see a man, a real one, watching PEAKY BLINDERS on NETFLIX. I don't even turn my head. Sorry child, I would only hurt you.
I join my friend Alex and his girlfriend at Fetuccini, the main Italian restaurant in my town (Auxerres) and surely the nerve center of the ritals operation. Hmm. I smile. One day or another I will have to take care of them. Nothing personal, just business.
