Christ this is heavy. I’m pretty sure there are bits of ham in mine. I am experiencing The Bermondsey Beer Mile. Not out of choice. I mean, it’s a mate’s birthday (and also one of his mates’ birthdays). There are girls and guys I don’t… Read More
The only reason I visit Shoreditch these days is Goodhood. If any non-Londoners are in any doubt, the area’s once progressive reputation is long dead. Menswearists Present went a while back, Sunnysiders is shuttered and if you’re looking for Artwords books you’ll now have to… Read More
Like the Colossus of Rhodes he stands there. Legs spread, hands on hips, shoulders like landing strips. His Speedos are so tiny you can see what he’s had for breakfast. On every beach, there’s always one. The muscle man. The adonis. The alpha asshole. He… Read More
If I was making a horror film you know what I wouldn’t do? I wouldn’t include a scene where there’s a TV on in the room showing: A: a vintage horror film. B: some blunt metaphorical foreshadowing. I watched Taiwanese shocker The Sadness the… Read More
I’m becoming increasingly rubbish at dealing with inconvenience. It’s probably an age thing. But these days anything that gets in the way of me doing precisely what I want, whenever I want, transforms me into a bewildered toddler, eyebrows knitted, sighing and mewing theatrically from… Read More
As I write, I’m drinking coffee at The Standard hotel in Kings Cross. I decided this morning to simply stop moping, get out the flat and just go and be somewhere cool. Somewhere I’d been told fellow creative professionals go to lounge about discussing ‘projects’… Read More
