The Burberry Macintosh.
It survived Colombo, but can its high fashion credentials get past Jackson Lamb?
Of course.
However, new depths have been reached, way lower than Colombo’s crumpled mac, way way lower. Although stylistically reminiscent of the apparently bumbling detective rain coat wise, Lamb is filthy. I never smelt Colombo, but I can smell Lamb. Lamb has holes in his socks, wears nylon underpants, and thinks soap in the laundrette is not necessary.
He is fabulous and vile, fabuvile? vilulous?
Although the public relations office at Burberry may well be wilfully ignoring the existence of Jackson Lamb and his coat, I can’t. I’m mesmerised. I’m not really a fan of his lack of personal hygiene, or his unwillingness to recognise social niceties, but I do aspire to his turn of phrase. If you haven’t come across him, he’s a main character in the tv series ‘Slow Horses’. Catch it if you can.
The gist of the background story is that Lamb runs an MI5 out post in London, he is a Cold War era spy with a considerable reputation. The staff in his department are disgraced, they are fuck-ups, alcoholics, losers. They’re given the dullest, least important work possible, overseen by Lamb while he waits for his pension to kick in.
Lamb gives them a pep talk.
“You are fucking useless, the lot of you, to be honest, working with you has been the lowest point of a disappointing career.”
I long for the opportunity to use it as my own.
fat tart 