Several years ago Mrs H and I rode up to London on a Sunday for no particular reason. We were on the Harley Road King in those days. We parked up just off the Kings Road near Sloane Square and, after a coffee and a pastry, strolled along the shops. We found ourselves outside one called `Harley Davidson`. I saw a `Half Price Sale` sign in the window so went in. A polite, well groomed, `sensitive` sort of chap came up to me and asked if I was looking for anything in particular and I told him I was interested in a rain jacket. He umm'd and ahh'd a bit, went off and asked the manager and then came back with an apologetic look and a `sorry` for an answer. I then asked if they had any gore tex winter gloves in the sale. Again, a `no`. It was then it dawned on him:
"Oh, are you bikers"?
`Yes, look, these are biker trousers, this is a textile motorcycle jacket with armour here and there and we are carrying crash helmets`!
"Ohhh, we don't sell that stuff, you want Warr's, the Harley Davidson dealers right down the Kings Road".
`OK, so what is this place doing, called Harley Davidson`?
"We're the Boutique, the brand name, you know... (giggling like Kenneth Williams used to). we don't do real motorcycle gear, we do the Harley Davidson biker look".
I explained to him that we were actually motorcyclists who happened to ride a Harley Davidson, rather than dedicated followers of fashion. He seemed impressed and started to eye me more closely. My wife grabbed me by the arm and led me outside. I suggested we could go back in and I could say, "Hello I'm Julian and this is my friend Sandy", but we decided to go for a pint.