We have all heard Jacob and his daily chant in TV interviews of cheap food, clothing and footwear for Britain post brexit. So we decided to send I P Standing over to meet Jacob at his favourite Westminster tea room for more detail.
He managed to grab 10mins with the Moggster over an earl grey, before Jacob had to get all powdered up for his next exclusive and filed the following report.
“Jacob”, I asked, “where do you buy your food? ”
“I get a hamper from Harrods delivered once a week. Great big basket filled with items bearing the Queens crest. If it’s good enough for her majesty it’s good enough for me. Any family who manages their budget can easily do the same.”
A frown did crease his brow momentarily.
“Although I have noticed a marked increase in price recently. I called El Fayad to ask why. He told me that he had to import the baskets from India and since the referendum and the fall in the pound, the cost has rocketed. He assured me the contents were legit and he hadn’t been fiddling with the labels.
I save all the labels for reuse when marking my staff, before I let them in the field for exercise.”
I next asked Jacob had he ever heard of Asda, Aldi or better still, Lidl?
” No,” he replied, “although my wife has shopped once in Waitrose. Like being in a cattle market she said to me… never again! ”
I said, “Asda, Aldi and Lidl offer some of the cheapest food in Europe!”
“They sound foreign, I don’t do foreign,” replied Jacob, “well, unless it’s an emerging market with a sensible approach to rule of law.”
Fair enuff.
“Clothing what about clothing? ”
“I get my suits from Saville row. I have one for every day of the week and I have my name tag sewn into the collar, JRM.
It reminds me of school and the fun we used to have in the dormitories. When the other boys would hide my silk satin jim jams.”
“Jim jams?” I asked.
“Pyjamas, the boys, Cameron and Johnson used hide them behind the gin and tonic vending machine. But I’d always find them because they had my name tag sewn in them. Well, my man would find them. But that’s the same thing.”
“Shirts what about shirts?” I asked.
“Shirts from my tailor, usually with a thin pin stripe….. although at weekends at home I wear one of those photocopier salesman ones. You know, blue with a thin white pin stripe and a white collar and white cuffs. It makes me feel………. dangerous.”
And ties?
“I like to wear a military style, something with a pretend insignia or coloured regimental stripe. I like to keep in tight with the military, you never know when I might need them post brexit. Always be prepared, that’s my family motto, always be prepared to order low born chaps to lay down their lives.”
“Jacob, have you ever heard of Matalan, H&M or better still Primark?” I asked, “You can buy trousers in there for a tenner and a couple of shirts for less than that. They have some of the cheapest clothes in Europe.”
“Matalan, H&M and Primark sounds like a group of invading vikings,” said Jacob. He looked a bit flushed.
“Well what about footwear, where do you buy your shoes?”
“I have a cobbler in Cheltenham he makes superb handmade brogues. Although he recently said he would have to increase his price as the leather is imported from Spain, and due to the weak pound he couldn’t hold his prices down. He also asked if I would settle my previous invoice? All in good time my man, all in good time.”
“Is there a good time to buy shoes?” I asked, thinking shoes maybe an emerging market.
“I always go when the Cheltenham national hunt festival is on. I like to be surrounded by all those Irish priests betting the sum of their annual church collections on the horses.
I like to be around like minded Catholics. Over the winnings we sup a Guinness and revel about anti abortion, anti gay and anti contraception. I feel so at home with them in that week in March.”
“Have you ever heard of Clarkes?
“No, what’s a clark?” replied Jacob.
“They are in Street, Somerset I think they are in your parliamentary constituency, they make shoes.”
“Shoes you say?”
“Yes shoes at very reasonable prices, all styles, you can even get brogues with a rubber sole.”
“I’m not wearing rubber soled shoes, dear boy, who do you think I am, Ian Duncan Smith? Creeping around the corridors of Westminster?
I only wear leather soles so people can hear me coming as I stride over the stone floors of Westminster.”
“Well thank you Jacob for sparing the time,” I said, touching the forelock and seeing in the buff shine of his shoes the future of Brexit Britain.
“I understand now why you would think Britain needs cheaper food, clothing and footwear. But what about your underwear?”
Jacob blushed. It seems a gentleman likes to keep some secrets under his hat.
