According to the lateral flow my girl has still got ‘The Rage’. Weird, because it is ten days later. I take another look at the bad line. It is really faint, I suppose she can be unchained from the spare room. From the other side… Read More
“Homme Plisse from The Box on Thursday. There’s a mark on the back but with a long top you can’t see.” If you’re into clothing, there’s no better place to meet your kind of people than in the queue for a sample sale. Increasingly ubiquitous,… Read More
I think digital culture has finally, royally fucked me. You know the old joke about kids trying to swipe the pages on a book? The idea being that they’re so conditioned by touch screens that they can’t comprehend the primitive nature of the printed page.… Read More
I live in Peckham and over the last few years it has gained a reputation for being ‘trendy’. There are shops that sell vintage Kappa tracksuits next to ones offering cash for gold. There is a Serbian art pop-up. An actor from Coronation Street moonlights… Read More
I remember, back in my early teens, gawping with horror at pictures from the 60s and 70s. I thought people looked utterly ridiculous. More than that, I thought they looked alien or possibly ill. Faces were ashen and cheekboney. Skin seemed pockmarked, spotty, or bubbly… Read More
Look at my shoes. Look at my shoes. Oi, you in the Aries top, what’s your problemo son? Look at my fucking shoes. I’m walking around East London and no one is looking at my shoes.
