I watched a documentary the other day on the banking industry and for someone who as a child, struggled through tears of rage as my father told me how obvious it was that y=log 2 x, it was bloody difficult to follow, no matter how simplistic the narrator tried to make it.

It turns out that if my father (mathematical genius and nuclear scientist) had worked in today’s environment, he may well have, if he was morally corrupt enough, given up studying science and chosen to make a fortune creating complex derivatives to disguise toxic loans before and after the banking crash that has cost the British tax payer something in the region of a gazillion pounds.

Like many of these people who shattered the economy, he may have also been knighted for his trouble.

This programme depressed me so much, I almost wished that I hadn’t watched it and chose instead, to give up and follow the masses by watching The Only Way is Essex as a form of escapism from a country is that is being bled dry by a tiny minority who pay off politicians and media groups to allow them to perform robbery not with a gun but an Armani suit and braces.

The problem with programmes like The only Way is Essex and the X Factor is that they only serve to depress me equally and despite my strong belief that all people should be treated without racial or religious bigotry, I would be quite content to turn a blind eye if these hideous creatures were ethnically cleansed in whatever way necessary before, they too, received a Knighthood.

Sir Simon Cowell has a ring to it that has me choking back vomit.

I had nearly come to the conclusion that to be a Sir in the modern age, you also had to be a cretin. Then, out of the darkness, I heard an interview on Radio 4 last night with Paul Smith, Sir Paul Smith as it happens.

What a decent bloke he seems to be. Without any hereditary wealth, Paul Smith has become one of the top clothes designers in the world, getting in to fashion after a hideous childhood accident ended any dreams of becoming a competitive cyclist.

It gets better than that, because this apparently decent chap from Nottingham, doesn’t just lend his now famous name to anyone who is prepared to pay enough for it, he is actually  involved in every single design aspect, from tailored suits to socks and underpants. Not one item is put to market without him seeing it first.

When I was a young lad, the shirts to be seen in were Fred Perry’s and Ben Sherman’s; they were quite expensive, unique in design and well made. Ben Sherman’s are now a load of old shit, dumbed down in quality and lacking anything except perhaps the mark of chav culture. Fred Perry clothing is now in my opinion, dull and uninspired, lacking no more originality than something off the peg in Next or Gap.

What a shame these former giants of Mod culture chose to go that way.

Unique: Fashion Designer, Paul Smith

In the interview on Radio 4, Paul Smith emphasised his passion to design clothing that made the wearer feel that they had something that gave them a little bit of individuality and quirkiness that cannot be found elsewhere and I can’t help but be impressed by that, even if I would currently struggle to afford it.

So, amongst all the trash celebrities with false personalities and fake tits, if we look hard enough, there are some really good characters in British culture, they just do low profile interviews on Radio 4 rather than those who prostitute their at best, dubious talent, on trash TV.

In the unlikely event you are reading this Paul, I would be grateful if you would kindly donate three navy blue wedding suits for July next year!