Next Let's Talk About Next

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

So the news tells me,British clothing giant Next has made less much money in the past twelve months than the year before, shocking those wizards in the city of London (those who are not preparing to move to Paris post Brexit that is).

What makes this funny to me. Is that today I got to experience the glories of the place and to be honest judged by this afternoon before I pick up my daughter from school knowledge I'm not surprised.

You may remember that my brother in law and his partner gave me a thirty pound gift voucher and I went to the local Bridgend store. Now, I know I'm a fifty three year old man but there was no obvious sign of a sale in the place. Possibly it could have been hidden in and I didn't notice it. But the place didn't scream SALE. When I was young a January sale meant exactly that. No longer

In fact it was the complete opposite. The first thing that my eyes set upon was a jumper. In fact my sight was mugged by the light greeney, bluey aquamarine thing.

Let me explain my jumper theory. Few heterosexual men wear a light coloured jumper unless it has been bought for him under cover of Christmas/Birthday wrapping by wife/mother. And it's only because a loved one has bought it that he would feel honour bound to put it on.

It was also thin. I've been given thin Next jumpers as presents and without wishing to seem ungrateful they are rarely worn. A jumper is not a fashion,or a style accessory. It is there to keep you warm in the cold months. It is why when you buy a jumper you want it to mirror the IQ of Bridgend council. Simple and thick.

But the biggest shock came with the price. Thirty two pounds for a thin piece of brightly coloured wool. For that amount I would have insisted on picking the sheep and watching it being constructed by a crack team of Shepards and knitters.

Having metaphorically got that off my chest, or metaphorically put it on, I do also need to say that on looking around the place it was no better. That heady mixture of expensive bad taste began to make me feel nauseous. So I left.

But I didn't leave Next. As it was on the way to my daughter's school I decided to go to their outlet store in the Macarthur Glen complex just outside the town. Outlet stores are of course where the things that didn't sell go to so there could be once last attempt to flog it.

As my wife has remarked. Of all the stores in the place there is no attempt in the Next outlet to hide the fact that you're mainly looking at rubbish. Clothes that hurt the eyes as you looked at them. Jackets with what appeared to be flock wallpaper lining and colours that will kill people in the street due to the seizures they would have laughing uncontrollably as you passed.

In the event I bought 5 pairs of black socks for a fiver,a casual blue shirt for fourteen pounds ( which I think was not an outlet price but I'm not sure) and some aftershave half price for eight (And regarding the aftershave some of the others on sale included ingredients like chicory and pepper - to which my silent reaction was.....what?!).

When I paid for it the shop assistant said that there was two pounds ninety nine pence left. I think you'll find that the card will be conveniently lost rather than used again (sorry brother in law / partner - it's Next not you...honest).

What can I say? I'm probably not Next's target market but their bad results suggests they don't know what their market is anymore. They don't have to worry about me though. I'll just shop for clothes at somewhere that actually understands that flashy nausea is yesterday's fashion.

Until the next time.