The Institute Of Directors on Pall Mall is a bastion of British conservatism, as a friend of mine discovered to his cost.
Martin, a film producer, had arranged to meet with a potential investor at the institute, and arrived in his normal attire of jacket, shirt, jeans and cowboy boots. He was met at the entrance by a doorman dressed in smart black suit, freshly polished shoes and tie.
“Can I help you sir?” he asked. Continue reading