About us

Freed from regular employment following an unfortunate incident with a hot buttered crumpet, Hampton St.Roker set out to do things the way he thought they should be done – slowly, and with a drink in each hand.

As we stand, St.Roker is like a gentlemen’s club, without the premises or the gentlemen. And really more of a shop, to be honest.

We have to start small, so we’re cutting our teeth on a few tops, men’s polos and the like, and will then get down to knocking out some serious duds once we have a bit more of the old readies, and a slightly better idea of how to do it. Maybe even something for the ladies. The shirts, and everything else will follow as quickly as we can sell the first lot.

St.Roker Mission Statement

These are tremendously popular with big companies, so we thought we’d get one ready. A mission statement should 'accurately explain why your organisation exists and what it hopes to achieve in the future. It articulates the organisation's essential nature, its values, and its work.'

We decided on 'Sundowners at 6.45pm prompt. Dress smartly'

Hampton St.Roker

Hampton is the great grandson of Percy St.Roker, inventor of the Stroking JacketTM and the reach around. Hampton is handsome, suave, urbane, and inventive. A skilled pugilist and noted plunger, he frequently turns down offers to run developing countries, preferring to wait until they are finished, for fear that the hours would interfere with his strict smoking regime. Like Bertie, his instincts for survival have kept him out of the services, where he would undoubtedly have risen to great rank before a scandalous exit and a Ministry level hush-up. Hampton enjoys drinking rum, being rum, gin rummy, and gin.

Bertram Oliphant St.Roker

Wastrel, oaf about town, imbecile. The man is, simply put, simple. He is a danger to himself, to society, and to all root vegetables. After finishing his schooling he went onto read at university, presumably while moving his lips, graduating with a frankly miraculous 3rd in Sandpit and Colouring-In.
Bertie's famous dyslexia led to his being barred from St. Moritz after misreading Luge for Louche and descending the course wearing Tweed underpants, fisherman's waders, and bulldog clips on his nipples. A similar mishap occurred when visiting M&S dressed only in PVC with a hairbrush in his rectum. After hastening his father to an early grave, and inheriting the family debts, he now spends his days annoying his more sophisticated cousin and sweating his manservant. Bertie's interests include nineteenth century pornography, twentieth century pornography, smoking, and corporal punishment.

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