From the Telegraph.

If a street can possess a dissipated glamour then Cheyne Walk has it by the silver coke spoon. It is a boulevard for the beautiful, a road for the rich bohemian that rose to international fame during the swinging Sixties when Chelsea was cooler than a Dave Brubeck jazz solo. Today it still feels as if it has a metaphorical pair of Ray-Bans wrapped above it like an Alice band.

Coke spoons of dissipated glamour, Dave Brubeck solos in the swinging 60s, with metaphorical Ray-Bans wrapped above it, like Alice bands? Is anybody following?

It was always the smart place to live, even when first developed in the 18th century. Behind its iron railings and stucco walls it housed fashionable Londoners from peers to politicians, painters to racketeers. Then Rolling Stone Mick Jagger took up residence.

I knew he was old, but...

Property here.

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