Drummerboy’s review of Carnaby Street in London

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Every guidebook has got Carnaby Street in it. It's supposed to be super cool but it's a load of rubbish. If it didn't have the big black iron street sign at the entrance then you wouldn't even be able to tell it apart from all the other shopping streets. It was probably pretty good in the 60s when all the beautiful people bought their boots there, but these days it's just a load of little boutiques and a couple of coffee shops, pubs and restaurants.

The shops sell the kind of clothes that nobody wants to wear. I saw a pair of trousers about six inches long, and a hat that doubled up as a new hairdo. A pair of boots sat glistening in the window because it had a load of silver sequins stiched to it. It would be like having a disco ball on each foot. The only people who are going to wear that are Gary Glitter and the drag queens from "Priscilla Queen of the Desert".
Normally it takes me six months to ruin a new pair of trousers, but you can buy some in Carnaby Street that are already wrecked, to save you the trouble of wearing them out. They come complete with big rips, patches and paint strains. You can probably get the same kind of thing in a charity shop for 50p, donated by a dead guy.