The key to sartorial elegance in Kampala lays in the hands of a hawker selling his wares in the dusty, chaotic craziness of city’s sprawling Old Taxi Park.
His name is Jerome and each day he picks his way through hundreds of minivans honking and revving and jostling for space, offering passengers the very latest in synthetic wigs and brightly coloured kangas.
I spotted Jerome as I waited for a minibus to Kayabwe to see the Equator monument there.
I asked if I could take a photo and he immediately struck this pose.
Even in a dusty, humid minivan station in the middle of Africa, the business of looking good is a serious one.