men are TOAST

TOAST has sent me their new catalogue. It's the debut of their men's line.

And, so, I present to you, The Men Of Toast.

The Colonel, Little Jimmy, Rattcliffe and Young Will.

No one had told poor Rattcliffe that he should choose: one either goes with the Hipster Fro or the High Drama Facial Hair. Not both.

Never both.

Adding the wingtips only compounded the problem.


Young Will was outstanding in his field, but he was always perplexed...did he use the right fertilizer?

And had he chosen the right place for the driveway?

He was on his way to town to find out.

Young Will was an artist. A complicated artist whose work was often mistaken for, well, walls of speckled cement.

Though the ring never fit, he always wore it, because, in his world, all that really mattered...

was the cleaning schedule.

Little Jimmy thought about the cleaning schedule as well.




Alas, he had larger issues.



He could often been seen, wandering, murmuring, three buttons? four?

It was The Colonel who held it all together for them.


And not only with his vast collection of string.


Nor was it the lint that he had amassed over decades and painstakingly catalogued that would make a difference.

It was the burned clay-ware and pipes that would save them all.
They were worth a fortune to countless store display teams across several continents.
And The Colonel knew where to find more...