john’s appearance just says so much about him. he’s so buttoned up at the start, and even when he wears jumpers instead of button-downs, they’re so bulky. they keep him hidden. protected. but as early as tbb we see him in that stripey shirt–it’s still long-sleeved but it’s thinner, more relaxed. it’s john settling into being comfortable around sherlock and being comfortable with himself.

but then after sherlock jumps, it reverts, gets even worse. he starts wearing the scarf in s3, covering himself up more, protecting the vulnerability of his own bare neck. the only time we really see him in anything more relaxed is at the start of hlv when he’s in bed dreaming of sherlock, which is the only place he can allow himself to be open about his desires anymore.

so the fact that in trf, he’s lounging around the flat in his short little bath robe, bare chest and bare legs, it’s so striking. it’s such a difference from both where he started and where he ends up after the fall. he’s allowing himself to be so open, in a way we never see from him again after that, and it’s his love for sherlock that did that, that let him grow into being that comfortable as who he is. it’s heartbreaking that it’s so short-lived.


Tom Hardy wrote the amusingly witty and sassy Foreword to Tim Palen’s superb book of photography.
The beautifully assembled photographs focus on the honed athleticism of these very fit muscular men.

Of course the book is aptly titled…The Men of Warrior…

….now read the Forward by Tom Hardy.

“Photographers…I’m making a sweeping generalization here, abhorrent as it may sound, or just unimportant as I am unimportant, but I’ve come into contact with these creatures–these beings, these artists (some). My feelings are subjective, couched simply in jouissance, irrational. Nonetheless, in all honesty, my truth, my absolute truth is: I don’t trust them.

As a breed, on the whole, it’s not that I don’t like them, it’s just that I don’t like a lot of their “fashion concept” art; their wanky installation Blow Up scenario push. It doesn’t float my pickle. I sense a delight in all things masturbatory, their printed f_art not worth a scratch of arse. They’re wallop merchants, creative time-wasters, their crews with “shocking” haircuts, traipsing around an “urban” studio in open-toed trainers they’ve never worked out in, 80’s wristbands, and skin-tight T-shirts or stripey stockings over tight jeans or cut-off dungarees–peering through those clumsy clunky red frames with no lenses that MC Serch might have worn (but he needed to see, he had real lenses…I hope).

The whole ordeal makes me want to puke up my innards and drive a nail through them and jump through the window from the fifteenth floor of the meatpacking district studio we’re in, to feel alive for the few seconds it takes me to hit the ground. Why? It’s just my reaction…these shoots give me panic attacks. Of course, this is irrational. I’ve been told I need to play ball with them.

I come across a lot of these creatures in my line of work. I dread being forced to sit in their fuckin’ tree-over-a-beautiful-brook location they just happened to have happened across whilst wandering through the ass end of Belsize Park that morning, fetching a latte to submit to the lipid colony hanging from their protruding fat ass. Or they might take me to the streets of Hachney, to pretend to read poetry in a stariwell: “It’s so street,” they say, and because I’m a “British thesp,” it’s a “juxtaposition.” I hate being told: “Do that thing your character does, with the fists and all so broody,” or “You’re an actor, act for me. Act a part now, be the character, do acting!” while they flounce ‘round waving Polaroids, nibbling celery and hummus, pretending that class A’s are passé.

And the people they talk about I’ve never heard of–ever. But I know very little…Many of this breed are simply morons, charlatans, and like in all the arts, they’re slinging their wares, talking loud, saying nothing, “contributing.” I don’t have the patience for a photographer who hasn’t been to war or something more…well, something more important than fashion (yawn). Funny, because I love all kinds of photos and I get that people like fashion and to each their own. But I, like many other actors (who are just as irritating, I’m sure, to photographers), don’t like being watched. I don’t belong in front of the camera–as myself.

This guy Tim Palen? He was OK… I didn’t mind him so much. I’d do a silly fashion shoot for him…not that he will want me now.

I also find this true of people with guitars.”

the-achtung-babe  asked:

Has someone asked you top 5 Graham outfits/shirts??

NO OMG YES THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!

okay, i have to do top 5 outfits and then top 5 tees, so outfits first!

1. the striped blazer/sweater vest/stripey tee combo from starshaped (bonus: BEADS!)

2. the small floral print shirt with the psychedelic lime green flower tie (from the salvation army) + blazer 

3. scarf graham with stripey st. james sailor shirt and blazer

4. casual perfectly styled sweater with collared shirt (bonus: alexa chung has *heart eyes*)

5. from starshaped, this blazer/khakis/button-down casually effortlessly perfect



okay top 5 tees:

1. graham’s oxford teeshirt is my favorite for reasons that will be explained when i answer g’lies’ ask :)

2. cheryl, obviously

3. abyss tee, since he wore it A LOT in the 90s and still does :)

4. the maroon stripey tee from early 90s is my fave of the stripey tees :)

5. the “pavement is rad” tee

THANKS SAM!!!!!!!!!! <3333


CUTE KEN CLOTHES!! Also several cute Barbie dresses, but no Galaxy print! :( So I settled for a cute floral and chevron! ;)

I literally bought all of the Ken clothes they had, which was kind of pathetic. But I love those tropical board shorts!! and the stripey shirt! It’s all ADORABLE! And I seem to recall Oak23 telling me I should LEAP upon that green-triangle shirt if I ever saw another, LOL!

caprisun-overlord replied to your post “i have purchased…… the summer clothes”

nice dude

i found not one but two separate cactus-themed shirts in my size (and a third i really liked but only an extra small was left, why must the gods torment me so)

i kinda want to either take photos of em or draw myself in em? only time will tell