IF Sam Eggington had an old overcoat and Jon Pegg owned a fedora, they would look like the last two fighting dandies on the street.
In their ’50s clobber, they could very well have just left the offices and basement gym in Soho of Jack Solomons. In every picture ever taken of fight people in the ’50s, theyare always protected against the coldest storm in history – hat, gloves, scarf, overcoat the size of a medium Persian rug. And a giant, smouldering cigar. Pegg and Eggington would fit right in.
In their ancient costumes, Pegg and Eggington could
