2004-07-13 - 3:52 p.m.

I forgot a couple of incidentals what-have-you�s from Thailand.

We had dinner at the Bed $upper Club, which was�how can I describe it�like horizontally eating a three course meal inside an iPod. You�re lead up the stairs to something resembling the mother ship, and through the doors into what feels like the cocktail lounge in purgatory. The walls are white, the staff are dressed in white, the band are white. It�s like how much more white could this be? And the answer is none. None more white. You then go to your reserved beds, where you lie back, order a White Russian (of course) and survey all around you, feeling like an extra from the Clockwork Orange Korova Milkbar scene. It�s the most thrilling place to eat food that I have ever been to, even better than the Indiana Jones theme restaurant in Osaka with its runaway boulder and collapsing bridge.

I also had suits made, because in Bangkok it�s about 4p to get measured up and a gleaming tailored garment in your hotel room the next day. Well, not quite, but it�s about a quarter of what it would cost in the UK. Not that I need or can really afford tailored suits. Or any kind of suit, really.

OK, you can just shut up, it�s my birthday in a couple of weeks and I just wanted to buy them, alright?

The shop is run by a handsome, hypnotic Hindu who could have probably sold me three dozen tartan waistcoats and a glittery cummerbund and rotating bowtie by the power of his disturbin� urban turban if he�d have wanted, but we settled for a mutually agreeable amount of fleecing, with me being talked into just the six bespoke shirts. And a couple of ties. OK, he stitched me up like a kipper.

BUT STILL.

The fitting is ace, because you have two sessions, with all the pins and chalk and measuring and they even did a little test to see which way Little Pablo hung, and they bring you gin and tonics and you feel a bit like minor royalty, or at least, say, Kenny G, and it was a bit like being on the Tindersticks second album cover, for those of you that are that way inclined, which I so obviously am. Anyway, I am never going back to off the peg, mainly because I can never afford to ever buy any clothes ever again.

Now I just need a reason to wear a suit, other than, say, defending charges of gross indecency or attending the funeral of a schoolmate that I secretly hated. Anyone want to invite me to a wedding?