Crisis! What Crisis?

“When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford”.  So said Dr. Samuel Johnson in the late 18th Century.  Dr. Johnson visited Tunbridge Wells in 1748; he’s pictured in a scene of that date. Perhaps Tunbridge Wells was a bit too new, a bit too small for him back then. If he visited Tunbridge Wells today, I think he might well say about Tunbridge Wells what he famously said about London.

I love this town and this town loves me back. I’ve known the town well for over ten years and lived here for the last six of those. But it’s only in the last year since becoming single(ish) that I’ve had the pleasure of exploring it avariciously.

Part of what helps me explore the town and meet new people it is my look. It’s not unique, it’s not hard to do, but it is noticeable and memorable. We each pass tens, hundreds or maybe thousands of people each day and in general, we rarely notice them, we certainly don’t remember them unless they’re unusual. I don’t dress the way I dress, for this reason, it’s what I like to wear – but it’s had this highly beneficial side effect.  It’s also made me realise that we all probably pass many of the same people each day, and not a word or sign of acknowledgment is exchanged; again, because we don’t recall them from the previous time we passed. People remember me. They tell me so.

In just the last couple of weeks, the following has happened:

·       A lady crossed the road on the High Street to come and tell me I’d made her day by how I looked. She then ran off seemingly embarrassed by what she’d done.

·       An elderly lady on the Pantiles said “Hello gorgeous” and we had a brief chat.

·       A bunch of “merry” people in Chapel Place insisted I come and have a chat.

·       A man came up to me in a club and remembered that I come into his shop. We have some beers and have a long conversation about work, life, and everything.

·       Several people have stopped me and asked for a “selfie”.  This is an almost daily, or rather nightly, occurrence.

All of these are the sorts of occasions where friendships can begin and you can’t have too many friends!

This works in Tunbridge Wells. It wouldn’t work in many of the other towns where I’ve lived.  People here might moan about potholes, parking costs, shops closing, the council, and ‘yobs’ – but having lived elsewhere for most of my 52 years, I can categorically confirm that these things are minor concerns and wouldn’t even be mentioned in other towns where there are real problems to worry about. Our town is very safe compared to most towns, it’s clean (yes it is!), the people are friendly (although sometimes reserved initially), and there’s absolutely plenty to do any time of the day and in the more sociable hours of the night. The town is great, the people are great. I may have already said this in another form of words, but it’s worth saying again.

When I was much younger, I could go into a pub and chalk my initials next to the dartboard or put 20p on the pool table and within minutes I’d be striking up a conversation, usually about football. There aren’t as many dartboards or pool tables as there used to be, and it’s not always easy, for me at least, to go up to a complete stranger and start a conversation. But I don’t have to, they come to me, or rather to my clothes, earrings or moustache. Sometimes they recognise me from social media and say “Your James from that Tunbridge Wells Group aren’t you?”  At first, it was quite disconcerting that people knew who I was when I hadn’t the faintest idea who they were. But I learned to enjoy it.

And it’s more than the nightlife where people remember me. It’s shops, restaurants, garages and other retail outlets too. It all opens doors. Some closed again quickly, others have stayed wide open.

So I put on my clothes, nearly always the same: Bright trousers, bright boots/shoes, bright shirt, waistcoat in the colder months, bowtie or cravat, and a hat. Nothing in black, grey or beige.  In the daytime, a walking cane is often in my hand. My moustache currently extends two inches from the sides of my lips and is waxed to points. My eleven ear piercings complete the look. 

Once dressed (20 minutes including moustache-waxing), I go out.

I usually start near home at the Pantiles. A drink in Framptons, the Duke of York, The Sussex Arms, or The Ragged Trousers. Maybe a chat with Geoff and Jo in the Pantiles Tap. No more than two drinks on the Pantiles though before heading into town, perhaps stopping for some banter with the door staff at Club Envoy.  Then up the hill and maybe catch up with some people in The Opera House.  Put aside your preconceptions about Wetherspoons and the types of people that drink there – it’s not all true – just revel in the absolutely stunning architecture and strike up a conversation with a stranger.

Where to go next? Of the people I’ve met so far tonight, where did they say they were going?  Moomoos maybe. Oh yes. Top floor – it’s Abba, Kylie, tunes from Grease, and other songs everyone knows. Great for people-watching and trying to hold a conversation while shouting above the music. Maybe it’s the Pitcher and Piano, £2 for some pints on a Thursday! Maybe it’s Club Envoy, maybe it’s home. Whether I’ve met some new people or not, I will certainly have bumped into people I already know.

Now I wouldn’t blame anyone who has read this far for thinking I must be right up myself and probably suffering from a mid-life crisis. I’d probably be thinking the same. But this was not planned – it’s not an experiment. I’ve always dressed to please myself – and in friendly Tunbridge Wells it has had very pleasant and unexpected social side-effects.

And the results so far have included, new friends, being invited to people’s quiz teams, taking a group of fashion students to an event in central London, good service in shops and bars, many many deep conversations on all manner of subjects, lots of laughs, and not a single negative reaction ever. And outside of Tunbridge Wells I’ve been asked to write a column for a quarterly print-only fashion magazine for rebellious over 40s.

Maybe you’ll be inspired to do as I did and chuck out the TV and go and meet people. I hope you do. If you do, I know it will have a downside for me because if there are too many eccentric and dandy dressers it will lose the rarity value that benefits me. But don’t let that stop you – because the world, and Tunbridge Wells in particular, will be a brighter place.

If you’ve come up to me in the past and had a chat, thank you. If you haven’t and you see me around, then do come and say hello.