While He Was Shopping

One of us is a shopaholic. I’ll give you a hint: it’s not me. I’ve probably bought more things for the terriers in the last year than I’ve bought for myself. But Andy is a shopper of frighteningly professional dimensions. He’s all about the clothes and there is no place better for clothes shopping than London. You do the Math. It was a given that one morning would be spent in a virtual Marathon of shopping. I could have ducked out and gone to another museum. But watching something done at this level of perfection is a sight not to be missed. So I tagged along. I figured, if I got bored, I could always do a quick survey of London’s inventory of terrier-themed items. I’ve picked this bone with London before. I do find it shocking that the land that gave us the entire category of terriers has such a paucity of terrier-themed items. (In a historical footnote: terriers were unknown until the Romans invaded and Pliny the Elder wrote back in marvel of the dogs that “went to ground”. He graciously named them after the Latin word for earth, terra.) So a-shopping we did go.

This, of course, is Ground Zero for gentleman’s shopping — with key proximity to Bond and Jermyn Streets, Saville Row, and Princes, Burlington and Picadilly Arcades.

It’s not by coincidence that Beau Brummell, perhaps the only Englishman who was a more exacting shopper than Andy, has a statue in this area.

We contemplated bespoke suits, hand-crafted ties and accoutrements from all the best sources.

We looked at items so trendy and fashionable they should probably never be worn.

We discovered where you can purchase or charter your superyacht. I have no particulars to pass along. Apparently, if you are the type who needs a website to shop, you can’t afford their services.

Meanwhile, I kept an eye out for terriers. I thought I’d finally find my items when we nipped into Farlows which is the sporting shop where Prince Charles gets his flyfishing and hunting gear. Maybe, it’s because they don’t seem to stock gear for fox hunting that Farlows scored a big zero for terrier items. There were ties and sweaters with pheasants and grouse and Labrador motifs, but no terriers.

Shame on you, Farlows! Clearly, you know better if I may judge by the periodicals you were featuring.

As we traced our way back through the Arcades, I was ready to declare it another poor showing for London in the matter of terrier gear. Then, pay dirt! An art gallery with a revolving slideshow of their wares featuring at least six terrier paintings. Alas, it was closed and the glaring sun allowed no angle for a good picture.

But I sensed I was near the epicenter of terrier-themed shopping.

YES! YES! In a silversmiths, a Terrier Rampant in solid silver. If I had a heraldic emblem, this would be it!

Even better! Silver terriers going to ground.

I knew I wouldn’t want to know how much these cost, but I did ask. Basically, for that price, I could buy a herd of real terriers and give each one a mink pillow and chew toys stuffed with hundred dollar bills.

So what did I buy, given that the terrier themed items were out of reach? I’ve told you that I’m not really into clothes shopping. So how about a nice little bottle of Eau de Toilette? Yes, a bottle of scent is a very English thing to buy. But it moves to a whole different level when you shop at Penhaligon’s, which is England’s premier perfumery (by Appointment to the Queen and the Prince of Wales.)

I chose their latest signature fragrance which is distilled from the key botanicals in fine gin.

Yes, I just paid good money for a beautifully packaged and crafted scent that will make me smell like I went face down on the bar after spilling the last of four Martinis!

Call it a foolish purchase. But at least I didn’t buy Sartorial, their latest signature cologne. It’s billed as “The Scent of Saville Row”. So it presumably makes you smell like money or high-limit credit cards. I’d rather smell like a Martini and keep everyone smiling.

And think of all the money I saved by NOT buying solid silver terriers!