The other day I was talking to a family friend, a chap of a somewhat fey and effete disposition. He told me that back in his sudent days in the early eighties, he would don his Goth No. 1s before a night out in the Aldershot area. This rig would typically consist of the following: 1. Shock of Blue-black dyed hair, with a swatch of it covering his left eye. 2. Mascara. 3. Chain twixt nose and ear. 4. Black lipstick. 5. Skull earing. 6. Spiky collar. 7. East German Army jacket, CND crowfoot on the back, Soviet medals on the front. 8. Bauhaus tour T-shirt. 9. Cartridge belt. 10. Black drain pipe jeans 11. Combat boots, negative laces. Unfortunately, he also suffered from severe acne, a condition which this look seemed to highlight. Regrettably, he had a tendency to end up in Pubs frequented by young men with severe hair cuts, and with flying horses tatooed on their arms, who had a fondness for dessy wellies and maroon T-shirts. I was saddened and disappointed to hear that he was cruelly used by serving members of HM Forces, who just didn't even attempt to understand the existential angst suffered by a sensitive young fellow studying Art in Thatcher's Britain. All I want is some names. I don't care how you get them, but I want the offenders outside my office o six sparrow-f*ck tomorrow, ready for a frank and robust chat, negative tea and stickys.