Looking pretty cool in glasses and leather jacket, strutting (or staggering) up to Seven Dials while listening to his iPod. Looks like a proper “famous person”.
Walking into Neal’s Yard at lunchtime. Thinner hair and shorter than TV suggests but genuinely possessing that beautiful, melodic, broadcast voice. In many ways looked more like a nervous office worker. Here for the Coraline opening according to Twitter.
C’mon there’s only one Jarvis! It’s Jarvis Cocker with huge, ragged hair, razor sharp jawline and a general air of being the most expensive tramp in the village. And to think that he lives in France now…
John Rocha, locking up his office. Awesome! I thought the John Rocha offices were just where they did office admin but there’s Rocha himself, smoking a cigarillo and chatting to a Bubble apparel-like employee, locking the goddamn office by himself.
Does he open up and take in the milk I wonder?
In the bar prior to the Gravenhurst gig, still cool. Sending a woman to the bar for the drinks. Respect.
Spotted outside of Islington for once; counts.
Outside the Toucan bar, drinking Guiness and having a few fags, trying to nail his Irishman stereotype I guess. Tall and somewhat goofy, battering on about projects and what people are doing.
Trying to avoid shouting his catchphrase at him is torture.
Older in real life but still looking and talking like the quintessential posh sixth-former.
Born in the same year as I. Expensive rough. Chatting on a cell phone and spinning around to break eye contact at the intersection.
Tall, square, in a suit so sharp you could slit your wrists on it. Talking about doubt and walking north.
Mike Leigh, famous director and resident of the mansions south of the British Museum. He looks exactly how you would want your favourite uncle to look: a chubby, kindly hangdog kind of face, rather like a fat peanut with a beard. He also has observer’s eyes and that’s not so friendly. They seem to flick around taking in the scene before him and evaluating it immediately.