The Selby on Tom Sachs: the artist knolling at home

I had wondered if there was something wrong with the fact that I find a certain satisfaction in placing objects around my working area in neat little lines.

I now know that I am not alone - what's more there's a name for the practise, at least there is in Tom Sachs' studio. He calls it knolling. I'm with you Tom, I am a knoller too.

We also seem to share something in common in trying to quantify the cost of tasks. Take my cyclists - the amount of time I spend on them I should be selling them for £200 a piece.

More on Tom Sachs' studio below.

Tom Sachs, A Selby Film from the selby on Vimeo.

Chinese blue: seeing is believing

I must say Lizzie's idea of Chinese blue for the hallway didn't exactly have me brimming over with enthusiasm until I saw this pic. It actually looks quite cool with those pictures.

Another decorating job for the week ahead.

On Golden Square part 1: Nordic Bakery

There's a little oasis in the West End of London, between Carnaby Street and Piccadilly Circus that maintains a pleasant immunity from the tourist hoards.

During the week Golden Square is a media hub, full of brainstorming skinny-jeaned executives and radio ad people, but on the weekend it's so quiet you can almost hear the birds singing.

Here you will find the Nordic Bakery - all pastries, smoked salmon and general good stuff. And with Norway being the coffee drinking capital of the Northern Hemisphere, it's no wonder they serve up one of the best cups of coffee I've tasted in London. Order one to accompany your gravlax on rye and white chocolate cookie (it's the thing that looks like a plate of sick below. Tastes lovely).

Google Nexus: Toy ninja proof

What's this then? A bunch of Action Men prancing around a dining room table in ninja suits? I'd have loved this when I was a kid. I would have been straight up to my toy box and mobilised my own squad before you could say "little man, big nunchuck."

But look closer and the real star of this film is in the box. It's the Nexus One, Google's answer to the iPhone and the gadget the tech world has been dying to get its hands on.

If Google's rivals really wanted to get rid of the Nexus maybe they should have sent someone more suited to finishing the demolition job. Like a ten-year-old. You wouldn't recognise the thing after he'd finished.

Via Kineda

Out and about: Some things I've learned from my trip to the West End yesterday

Dover Street Market is having a job shifting its Japanese lines even with
70 per cent off

I can't go into Dunhill without buying something (see below)

I would prefer to get a Leica D-Lux 4 rather than the cheaper Lumix DMC LX3 version, even though critics say it's essentially the same camera

The Square Pie Company in Selfridges won't sell you a pie for less than £3.50

Button mushrooms in Selfridges food hall cost 9p each

Maybe I will never fully break in my Visvim Serra hikers

If I had a Leica D-Lux 4 there would be pictures to go with each of these statements.

Karl Lagerfeld drinks Dom Perignon. I'd never have guessed

This is a bit hi-fash couture, I admit, but that Karl Lagerfeld is quite a character, and he does like to have some glamorous types nearby all the time, which makes the whole experience a bit more bearable.

Did you know Dom Perignon releases its Oenotheque Vintage once in a generation? Neither did I. Or many other people it seems, or they wouldn't have found it necessary to enlist Our Karl, Claudia Schiffer and Brad Koenig to star in it.

Maybe it wasn't selling very well.

Nike Dunk openzedoor special

Check these puppies out. The very first openzedoor designed Nike Dunk, brought to you courtesy of a fancy little thing called Nike ID, which allows anyone to custom design their own trainers.

You could reproduce one of those super hard to find colourways like the Tiffany. But then why would you want to when you can have something infinitely more exclusive, and stick your name on the back, too?

Or just go for the openzedoor design, with its minty underlay and grey panelling, offset by a yellow swoosh and sidewall stitching. I kept the sidewalls white, because that's the way I roll.

If you go for these I would feel doubly honoured. Send us a picture of you rocking them and we could get a gallery going on. If you think you could do better, let's see it.

The long wait part two: Supreme Damien Hirst release at Dover Street Market

All was not lost. Another seismic event in the Rare Things to be Available If You're Patient calendar was taking place across London at Dover Street Market.

Here, at 11am, would be available the latest Damien Hirst x Supreme release. I was on familiar ground here. A niche label with a select following. Only 20 t-shirts and skateboard decks would be available, but I reckoned the number of devotees prepared to wait outside could only be ten. Maximum.

I was number 21 in the queue. At the head of the line were a few chaps from Brighton, a guy called James Norris and a couple of pensioners sitting on fold away chairs. They had arrived at 6.30am.

I had clearly underestimated the popularity of Damien Hirst. Amazing what pickling a sheep can do for your career. Who would have thought his art would have pensioners queuing outside shops for hours?

If it wasn't for the kindness of one of the Brighton lads who bought a tee for me along with his deck, I would again have missed out. I am eternally grateful

That's James Norris to the right, proud owner of a bit of Hirst skateboard art.

As for me and queues, don't expect to see me in another one.

Oh, and it turns out my tee is enormous. So expect to see it on Ebay soon.

The long wait part one: The Knoll sample sale

It seemed like such a good idea about a week ago, when I first heard about the Knoll sample sale. Two Barcelona chairs, usual retail price £3,600, going for the bargain basement price of £749.

I knew I would have to suffer to get one but hey, I've stood outside a few shops in my time in order to secure a rare item, and what was a few hours wasted waiting in the cold if I could walk away with one of the most iconic pieces of furniture of the 20th century? Even if it didn't fit in my lounge, Ebay would surely reward me with a tidy profit.

So the plan was hatched. Get the first train to London, 4.36am, make my way to the Knoll store in Goswell Road, mark my place at the start of the queue. Wait. Simple. I would secure the advantage by hours.

I looked at Twitter. The Knoll staff had been hyping this sale like it was the second coming. Then came the Tweet of devastation. Steve Lidbury, first in the queue, at 7pm the night before the sale.

Now any sane person would have thrown in the towel there and then, and opted for a few extra hours in bed. Not me. In my mind Steve Lidbury was there alone, cursing his foolish move as he shivered his way through the night. I would still go, and be number two in the queue.

I overslept, ended up on the 8.21am train, but I still arrived at Knoll half an hour before the store was to open, to be confronted by this. Hundreds of furniture huggers, their appetite for cheap Knoll heightened by a year of recession.

I stood there for about ten minutes before reason got the better of me. No way would I find anything close to the bargain I was hoping for. I left, before the doors had even opened.

Waiting in line is a mug's game, but arriving late to wait in line with no hope of achieving one's aim takes mugishness to a new level. Fortune favours the true mug, the one who sleeps in shop doorways. Well done Steve Lidbury.

It's hoodie time

For some, the time of year might have them reminiscing of sitting around a roaring fire resplendent in a chunkly cable knit cardie, pipe in hand, slippers on feet.

Well it reminds me of that too. But it also rekindles times spent qeueing outside Bathing Ape's Busy Workshop at 9am when the shop didn't open until 11am, in the vain hope of buying a Shark hoodie. Or buying a camo hoodie from Maharishi. In short, this time of year reminds me of hoodies.

Hoodies, with all their chav conotations, the ultimate yoof wear, comfortable and yet comfortably menacing. More rebellious than a Union Jack leotard.

Every year I wonder if this will be the last that I accumulate another hoodie for the winter, for sitting by the fire with my pipe and slippers. And every year another one catches my eye, transporting me to chilly evenings, toasty in hooded jersey heaven.

This year's temptation came in electric blue, by Supreme, gathered in the Hideout as part of a precision shopping expedition in the desolate wastes of a Saturday morning west London. A previous mission resulted in the Norse Projects scarf from Hideout and Supreme hat from Dover Street Market you can see me wearing.

That's me on the right by the way. The blue is a bit of a giveway. And the hair. It's Lizzie on the left, in her newly commandeered (from me) cap.

So that's another year I'll still be wearing hoodies then.

Precision shopping in London: the West End route

View Precision shopping map of West End, London in a larger map

I've got this route planned out when I'm up the West End, precise tube connections and street intersections all mapped out in my head. I don't know if it is the quickest route, or the most sceenic. But it's my route. I feel like it's a friend of mine, I have adopted the landmarks, looking on with pride as tourists gaze in wonderment and clamber all over them.

Trafalgar Square, Picadilly Circus, the tramp with the cute dog on the corner of Brewer Street. They are all part of the fabric of my London, the London I don't actually live in so can't really stake claim to any of.

But on any random Saturday and even the odd weekday, you will find me striding purposefully between my own personal landmarks.

Should any of you feel the urge to discover this route yourselves on one bright morning (London is crap when it's raining), it goes something like this:

Surface from the tube (Bakerloo line from Embankment) at Piccadilly Circus. Take the North Regent Street exit, past the loos with the rubbish 'wash soap dryer in a hole' hand dryers, up Glasshouse Street into Sherwood Street, past 'London's most central backpackers' hostel' and across Brewer Street to James Street. Past Golden Square , glance into Bape and do a quick circuit of the Hideout. This is a recce mission, checking out what they have in and banking it to mull over.

Exit left out of the Hideout, left into Beak Street, head to Regent Street, casting an eye over Albam and the Playlounge, Left along Regent Street, cross into Vigo Street and along past Abercrombie and Fitch and its gaseous odour to New Bond Street, right at Gucci into Stafford Street, and right at Dover Street to the five-floor emporium of crazy couture that is Dover Street Market. Buy a Monocle in the basement, check out the Supreme, Original Fake, Uniform Experiment, Visvim and the like in their little market-stall type spaces.

Exit right into Dover Street, past APC, left into Hay Hill, right into Berkeley Street, across Berkeley Square to Dunhill in Davies Street, quick scoot around, plate of quail eggs and a virgin Mary, exit right on Davies Street, up to Oxford Street, turn right, run the gauntlet to Uniqlo, try to buy a +J blazer, swear, then walk to Liberty via Harewood Place, Hanover Square, Princes Street Street, Regent Street and Great Marlborough Street, scan the menswear then head to the furniture and lighting department. Drool, exit through the perfume section, quick squirt of random Diptyque cologne, head south along Carnaby Street, left into Beak Street, right into Upper James Street and the Hideout. Decide if I want to buy anything I'd spotted on the recce visit, buy some Kuuma joss sticks (White Amber), exit right.

Past Golden Square again, pulling in to the Nordic Bakery for a filter coffee and smoked Salmon on rye with a slide of mayo, then back to the tube.

And that is what I call precision shopping.

How to run like a true gentleman

There is most likely a law somewhere, drawn up by someone who is never late, that will say something along the lines of: "If thoust a gentleman, thou shalt not run."

Of course this would excuse the pursuit of running per se, as in running for fitness, dashing along in a pair of Asics and some shorts. The law will instead apply to those times when a gent is dressed in everyday attire, such as whence making one's way to work. At such times it would be preferable to saunter, or stroll, paying attention to the environment and taking interest in the life on the street.

It's true that running while suited is a vulgar, undignified pursuit which can ruin the cut of one's jib and as such is something one should rightly be advised to avoid. However, it might on occasion be necessary to break into a light jog or a full sprint in order to make the bus, train, flight or appointment.

To that end, and as a person with a lifestyle demanding of at least one full-on bolt per day, I have deamed it wise to set out guidelines as to what will henceforth be known as the Gentleman's Sprint.

The Gentleman's Sprint is measured by performance and grace. Unlike the wild-eyed self-preservation dash undertaken while attempting to out-run a rabid dog, or a herd of cows, the Gentleman's Sprint must at all times appear as effortless and entirely intentional.

The above can be achieved by taking note of a few considerations. Before setting off, check outerwear, shoes, bags, hats etc for loose buckles, unfastened buttons and zips. The last thing you want is for your coat to start flapping around like Superman's cape while the contents of your case spills across the platform and your hat launches itself under the wheels of a train. In the same manner ensure shoes are sturdy enough to take a good pounding.

Most important of all is one's posture. At all times, stick chest and chin out, taking purposeful strides that say "I'm coming through and you will not stop me." Keep an arm free to deflect old people, or mothers with pushchairs.

If a ticket barrier threatens to impede progress, approach it like an Olympian at the hurdles, clear it in one bound and resume your stride.

A final dive toward the train doors is inadvisable, but if you've got that far and the train appears within reach then any method at your disposal to reach it is acceptable. This will henceforth be known as the Last Second Rule.

Follow these guidelines and you will not only reach your preferred method of public transport or place of employment, but you will have done so with a degree of dignity, excluding of course the Last Second Rule.

And you will feel confident that you can do the exact same thing all over again the next day, with your head held high.

Come on Saturn, do your worst

Ten days to go. That's when my life is going to change, 'tis writ large in the stars.

I don't usually read horoscopes, they're for girls. That's why you never find them in GQ. But one Sunday I stumbled upon my stars at the back of the Telegraph magazine and that's when I saw it.

You might call it a tip-off, I call it a worry. On October 29 Saturn, the ruler I never knew I had, moves into a new sign. This is the first time this will have happened in two years.

Without getting into the technicalities of how an entire planet moves into a new sign, this has concerned me. No one likes change, and the way this has been communicated by not one but two national newspaper astrologers feels somewhat ominous.

"What seems ideal now could be an obstacle then," muses Shelley von Strunckel in the Sunday Times. If what seems ideal Shelley? Spell it out for crying out loud and put me out of my misery.

And what do you mean by "change is in the air?" I know change is in the air. The clocks will be going back, isn't that change enough?

On the bright side this could mean I will win the lottery, get a phone call telling me a long lost aunt has left me a fortune, dig up some Saxon treasure in the garden.

All highly unlikely. Change these days doesn't seem to bring much in the way of anything good, in my experience. And now, thanks to those stargazers, I have another ten days of anxiety just waiting to see what doom awaits me.

That's the last time I read past the restaurant review in a Sunday magazine.

Hermes hoodie: Vulgarity rules

Now what do I like about this jacket? I'm struggling to think, on a style level. I mean it's a hooded leather for god's sake, two elements that should never be put together under any circumstances, unless your look is that of a boyband member. Or maybe you are one, in which case go ahead.

But I still like this jacket, for the simple fact that it is the most politically incorrect piece of clothing that has graced my field of vision in quite a while. These days there are certain times when even the wearing of a standard leather will have you batting off daggers from the cow hugging brigade, all fresh from chowing down on their plate of vegetables.

So what will they think of this offering from Hermes? It's more than just a leather hoodie. This is a calfskin (think veal, ewww) lined with ... wait for it ... mink!

Is there anything else that Hermes could add to this garment that would enrage the animal lovers more? Authentic cat paw zip pulls? Dolphin tooth buttons?

I'm not condoning the slaughter of endangered species in the manufacture of clothing - in fact I find the whole exotic skins as luxury garments thing a bit unsettling unless the rest of the animal is going to be eaten.

But I could turn a blind eye to the odd cat.

Arc'Terex Veilance: wind, rain, member's club

The thing about blazers is that while they're the best jacket in terms of a slick fit, they fall down in the protection stakes, which is a fairly big issue when you consider you really want outerwear to offer some kind of barrier to the elements.

Of course a true gent will swiftly inform you that this is what they invented umbrellas for, but I've always found umbrellas a little cumbersome to lug around, and if there's one thing you're going to leave behind in the pub ...

So the other option is to go for a waterproof blazer. Acronym do one, which fits the requirements in terms of cut, but falls down because of Acronym's preference to stick a zip or a pocket on every available surface. That just isn't going to cut the mustard down at the member's club.

The answer to this sartorial dilemma is here with the arrival of the new Veilance line by Arc'teryx. The brand best known for the sort of garments preferred by fell walkers has turned its attention to the altogether more demanding environment of smart streetwear.

The 2009 capsule collection is full of sleek jackets featuring a minimum of unnecessary detail, the stand out piece of which is this blazer.

Windstopper fabric, taped micro seams, invisible pockets and snapper buttons, this will have you wrapped up against the weather and still looking the part when you get into that trendy bar.

So now you can leave that umbrella behind in the pub and still have no reason to worry.

Find it at the Hideout, or if you're on a different continent to London, The Glade can post you one.

Raphael Saadiq: Let's take a walk

Here's something a bit smooth and funky for your Saturday morning, the perfect tune to spend that extra couple of minutes in bed.

What do you mean it's 1pm and you're already up? Get back in there!

Old Raphael's sure to be up alright with all that lot to look after. No wonder he's bursting in to song. But I can tell you this Raphael, going on about sex from the off might get things over with a bit quicker, but it's going to wear you out.

These young 'uns, they'll learn one day.

Clobber time: what I'm wearing today

Never being one to shy away from what everyone else is blogging about and for want of anything else to post right now, I bring you the first, possibly the last, and definitely a rare, glimpse of what I'm wearing.

So today I am sporting a Rapha winter jersey, Rapha tweed cap, Imperial Duke jeans held up by a Gucci Guccisima belt, and Visvim logans. On my wrist is my trusty Tudor Sub.

I have compiled this look as a kind of mid-point between grocery shopping and cycling, so I don't have to change completely for my ride, just change into my cycling shorts, which I'm not going to photograph at this moment, because they look a bit gay.

Nike Matagi pack: winter not included

Let's fast forward a few months. The snow is piling up at the back door and the wind is whistling past the windows. It's a cold and bleak night and I need more logs for the fire. They're piled up at the bottom of the garden.

Quite a task to retrieve and not one for the faint hearted, but one which I am prepared for nonetheless, because I have on my toasty feet a pair of Nike Air Baked mid QS.

All fur lined and suede in a kind of eskimo slipper type fashion but with a trainer sole, these little beauties were clearly made for late-night dashes into the frozen wastes of the mid-winter garden to restock on firewood.

All that and back in front of the fire to toast some more marsh mallows before you can say "Linford Christie," and without even having to take them off.

That's what I call versatile. What do you mean I need a pair of wellies?

40 Thieves featuring Qzen: Don't turn it off

Don't expect much from the video, because that light swtich is all you get. I suppose it's some kind of reference to the title of the tune, a lazy disco number reminiscent of the kind of thing they were churning out in the Studio 54 days.

This tune's been around a while but this is the first time I've found anything on it that I can post. If I come across anything else, such as a moving image, I'll let you know.

Ralph Lauren makes a decent coat? Really?

Sometimes I'm flicking through the latest mag, not really paying much attention, when I'm optically grabbed hold of by the short and curlies to stare in wonder at the sheer genius before me.

This vision can take any one of a number of forms, some of which I choose to share here, as with this Ralph Lauren over coat.

Even if I forgive him for using Ken doll models with dodgy hair, I don't even like Ralph Lauren really. Theres nothing wrong with the clothes, and let's face it, he's cornered the market when it comes to preppy dressing. But he's too good. In making his brand just the affordable side of expensive and easily available, he's become the easy option.

Can't be bothered to seek out something rare or inspired? Fear not, just slap on a Ralph Lauren Polo shirt, available on any high street.

So it was with a mixture of surprise and regret that I was looking at the perfect overcoat, the Chesterfield coat with vest, and it was made by Ralph Lauren. He only narrowly avoided being dismissed out of hand by the revelation that this garment is from his Black Label line - a more refined collection, and a bit harder to track down.

And damned expensive, I turns out. Which is why I'll let someone else have this one.