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Review: The Westbridge

Rachel De-lahay’s first play, The Westbridge, is on at the Bussey Building in Peckham. I took myself off for there for my first solo trip to the theatre, driven partly by my curiosity about the imposing old Bussey building, which I pass everyday on the train, and my wish to see one of the plays being put on by Theatre Local, the Royal Court’s theatre-for-people-that-don’t-do-theatre offshoot. I do do theatre, but it’s always nice having quality on one’s doorstep. So, having missed Debbie Tucker Green’s truth and reconciliation (her play random, which Theatre Local showed last year, was one of my favourites of 2010), I went to see this one instead.

I thought it’d be like going to the cinema on my own (which I am perfectly happy to do) but unlike solo cinema jaunts, going to the theatre lone seemed somewhat antisocial, like I was breaking some unwritten code of theatre-going: ‘Thou shalt invite friends to any act conducted upon a stage’. Maybe it was the pre-play drinks on my own – just me, my Tyrells and my tea – or perhaps it was being surrounded by the general bonhomie of various groups of friends before the play started; I tried to style it out, look nonchalant and happy, but as I was clutching my tea like it was some kind of comforter, I’d say I only around 70% pulled it off. Oh wellz.

I really liked the set up, though it rather emphasised my alone-ness. Audience members sit in the middle of the room,  on chairs placed at right angles to each other, rather than rows. The stage runs along the perimeter of the room, with the action veering from stage to stage, each scene change announced with flashes of neon lighting and accompanied by a flurry of swivelling necks. I don’t know if this will be the same when it moves to the Royal Court, but it works well and I hope they retain it.

Anyway, onto the business of the play. [SPOILER ALERT -I'm skimming over details but if you're going to see it and want to remain completely surprised then maybe skip the next paragraph]. Ostensibly, it goes something like this: there are riots happening on The Westbridge (a large estate in Battersea). Reports say an asian girl was attacked, possibly raped by some black boys. Racial tensions escalate, and in the midst of this our main characters – a mixed race couple about to move in on the estate, together with their posh friend,  one of the accused black boys and his troubled mother, the asian family next door – are trying to go about their lives. I’m missing out quite a lot of the detail because I don’t want to give it away, but suffice it to say, Things (begin to) Fall Apart.

Relationships begin to fracture under the stress of underlying racial tensions – the mixed race couple are pulled up short by the riot-induced realisation that not everybody is as colour-blind as they are;  side-eyed glances and disparaging remarks make that clear. The mother of the accused, enraged by shame, takes it out on her understanding neighbour; the same neighbour who cannot stand his (asian) daughter’s mixed race boyfriend.  And the accused boy, the shadowy central character, stands in judgement of them all.

Familiar themes of belonging, identity, relationship breakdown and stereotyping, abound. The dialogue is fast-paced, colourful, real (and reminded me of how much I love the language and the lyricism of slang) and the acting is great (Eastenders fans will recognise old character Ronny, who plays Ibi here), but the relationship breakdown of the couple feels like it hinges on too little, drama for drama’s sake, a little ‘everything’s fucked so lets have a row.’ Perhaps that’s the point – if you’re in relationships with people from different backgrounds (and I guess this applies to all close relationships not just romantic ones), glossing over your differences, saying you believe in colour/culture-blindness and simply hoping for the best is naivete of the highest order. You can do it, but when circumstances conspire and force you to confront those differences,  it’ll probably a lot more painful than if you’d addressed them on your own terms. Maybe that was the point. In any case, it made me think, and I always take that as a good sign. Go see it.

The Westbridge is on at the Bussey Building until 19th November, and then will run at the Royal Court theatre until 23 December.

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Lustworthy hair

So I’m terrible at this regular bloggin malarkey I think we’ve established. Love reading/commenting on others’ but not so hot on updating my own. In my defence it’s been a rather odd (in a good way) year… but still. Must. Do. Better.

Apology over. Back to the title topic. Hair. This isn’t a hair blog but it quite easily could be; lord knows I read enough of them. And I’m always coming across styles on the internets that I love but when it comes to natural hair, lots of the ‘hairspiration’ pics always seem to be of the sort of wavy Tracey Ellen Ross curls that obey the laws of gravity. Beautiful but I’m always a leetle bit like, where’s my hair? Even on the natural hair blogs and tumblrs, the overwhelming majority of lustworthy hair is of the type 3 variety.

So when I came across these pics of women with very similar hair to mine ie gravity defying, miniature curls, cottony puffs, shrunken afros I loved it. Obviously they’re both beautiful women but their hair, worn so simply, I think there’s something powerful about it no?

Khayatollah afro hair

Credit: Refinery 29

Credit: Fuck Yeah Curls Curls Curls

That pull of recognition is strong. I don’t come across hair twins so much in real life, apart from my sister, so it’s great to see these two with (type 4? I have no idea on the a, b, c, z of it all) hair so similar to mine and looking so wonderful with it. I like Khay’s little middle parting and weird little streak of red hair. Oddly enough, before I got into this natural hair malarkey (became a ‘healthy natural’ so to speak) this was my go-to hair style. Mainly because I didn’t know what else to do with it (apart from twists) and I’m lazy. Shrunken afro all the way. It still grew mind – maybe it felt drier, maybe it was a bit of an odd shape, and definitely I probably wasn’t retaining as much length as I could’ve but even without the co-washing/detangling/moisturising/sealing malarkey it still grew. Now it’s long enough so I just stick it in a bun and go. Or twists if I want to not think about it for awhile.

It’s funny but even though I look after my hair more now, and I read all these blogs about hair – not just maintenance but the politics of it all which I do find fascinating – I think they’ve made me more conscious of my hair, and I’d say I feel more apprehensive about wearing my hair in its totally natural shrunken state than I did before all this re-education. Like it was less acceptable in this state than the stretched curls of a twist out or neatly packaged in a bun. I don’t know, maybe it’s just the shift from university to the workplace (though everywhere I’ve worked has had a liberal dress code).  Or the fact that shrinkage = lengthy detangling session. Coupled with the weird little afro mullet I’ve got going on – it is not cute. (Sidenote: where in London does one go for a decent afro haircut?) But in any case, these pictures are making me rethink. It’s Notting hill carnival this weekend. Think I may just have to break out the fro in jubilation.

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Hendzel and Hunt 24 Hour Design Challenge

Photo by Ed Kulakowski


When you mention creative hubs in London, most people look to the East. East London has had the monopoly on all things cutting-edge and quirky for the past decade or so – Dalston is the new Hoxton is the new Shoreditch or so they say. Talents from all fields are drawn like patriots to the flag; for fashionistas, designers, artists, writers and media-types in general, this is the land of the free.

But this past weekend saw another little corner of London get a look in; often prefaced with the consolatory moniker of ‘up and coming’ South East London is what I imagine Shoreditch was like ten years ago, awash with an alchemical mixture of talent, cheap accommodation, youth and a willingness to make things happen. To be fair, I live there, so I’m biased, but I do provide some evidence to back up my not-so-controversial claims!

Witness the Hendzel + Hunt 24 Hour Design Challenge put on by two friends of mine – the talented Jan Hendzel and Oscar Hunt. Based in Peckham, in South East London, these two use reclaimed woods and found materials around the area to  produce their wonderful Made In Peckham range of furniture. Pieces of range from bespoke commissions such as the Pica watch cabinet produced last year and displayed at Milan Design Festival 2010, to beautiful hand made stools and chairs that are elegant and simple in a way that elevates them far above the humble origins of their materials; greater than the sum of their parts indeed.

Kirkwood chair. Photo by Ed Kulakowski.

 

 

The 24 Hour Design challenge was a side project that came about through Hendzel + Hunt wanting to explore the boundaries of experimentation, collaboration and innovation through setting a design challenge with strict constraints. In the works since last year, last weekend saw the 24 Hour Design Challenge finally come to fruition.

Waiting for the brief

 

 

I arrived at the guys’ studio to find a rag tag  bunch of around 30 people, some of them (ahem) pure spectators. However, the room was mostly filled with young product designers and engineers that had been asked to take part, and these guys looked, if not nervous, a little apprehensive as they waited for the great unveil (the only hint as to the nature of the challenge being the mandate to produce A Thing in 24 hours).

The Brief

 

So, to The Challenge. Drumroll please…..

Inspired by the history and aesthetics of Peckham’s industrial past, namely the Edison Bells gramophone factory and record label, the challenge is:

• To design and produce a machine capable of playing a record within the set 24 hour period.
• The machine must be truly mechanical and must not include electronics of any kind.
• Materials must be sourced from the streets of the local area of purchased from local scrap/reclamation yards/markets/etc.
• Craftsmanship and aesthetics should be considered as important as a finished working record player.
• The machines will be tested by playing “Two Cigarettes in the Dark”, by Joe Green and his Novelty Orchestra of Edison Bell records.

Looks of surprise and quizzical glances bounced around the room. No one  was expecting this level of impossibility.

The teams quickly set to. With five teams of three or four competing it was a big ask – a) the project started at 8pm on a Friday so any shopping would have to wait until the next morning and b) it’s a formidable job under normal circumstances let alone a 24 hour deadline and c) everyone was knackered after long days at work.

Hard at work

 

But everyone I spoke to, despite recognising the inherent difficulty of the task, seemed totally undaunted by it. Any question marks I’d had over the difficulty of the task were eased by their confidence… I suppose they had to reason to be – participants included lotsof Central St Martin alumni, such as Stanzin Losal, part of the Hendzel + Hunt team, Jade Folawiyo, currently Designer in Residence at the Design Museum and Roger Arquer, course tutor in product design at St Martins, plus a couple of Cambridge-educated engineers and lots of other young designers.

***

24 hours pass… All nighters are pulled, early starts made, machines whirr, studio manager Nicola makes a hundred teas and coffees, teams huddle, prototypes are tested, torn apart, retested, and finally 8pm on Saturday rolls round.

***

A good crowd was gathered for the final unveiling. As the final products were brought into the studio, eliciting looks of marvel, you could see the teams looking weary but proud of their record-playing machines. The lovely thing about the challenge was seeing the way each team had taken the same brief and yet ended up with five products bearing minimal resemblance to one another – completely different in aesthetics and mechanism. The question was, would it play the record?

First up – the Miro

This reminded me of a Miro mobile

The team behind this contraption managed to find the base of an original Singer sewing machine upon and a door frame which doubled as a table top for their turntable. The Miro-esque hanging red and white cones weren’t originally part of the design but the noisy Singer pedal necessitated these ‘earphones’. Somewhat impractical but I love the additional whimsical flair they add. Unfortunately, it was a case of form over function in this instance, as the noises coming from the record were definitely not musical.

Next up, Team Oscar:

A falling bucket of water attached to a pulley system spins the record

I loved this! The most playful of the bunch, with its coloured panels, vertical setting and pulley system, it was always going to be an engineering challenge this and unfortunately didn’t work (although it wasn’t too far off!). Still, a pleasure to look at…

Third, the Dizzee Rascal:

Manned by the power of a spinning human this was named the Dizzee Rascal

Slightly similar to the Miro gramophone, this differed in mechanism as it required a rudimentary pulley system (powered by a person spinning around inside the loop hmmm) to turn the disc and produce a sound. The square amplifier sitting on top was designed to slide across the record as it played. Aesthetically pleasing as it was, this may have been their downfall as I’ve been told that trying to make things slide in engineering is one of the primary Don’ts. Better to keep things stationary apparently. Still, I’d happily have that in my front room.

Fourth up, Team Jan:

Dust-bin til dawn

This one was a world away from the others both in terms of aesthetics and function. The base was constructed out of a dustbin (free from the studio) with slits cut into its sides to aid amplification, and worked by keeping the record still and moving the needle instead by spinning the dustbin upon an inner base, greased by ball bearings (they’d been salvaged from a mini skateboard bought at Deptford market for £1 that morning). Most gramophones keep the needle still and move the record, but there’s nothing wrong with keeping convention on its toes as these guys showed when the first musical notes of the record sounded out. Slightly wavering notes but still, music at last! I love how this is nothing like you’d expect a gramophone to look;  it’s rather industrial, brutal, in comparison to the more classical aesthetics of the other players but I imagine it could look very refined if reproduced with a spit and polish.

Last up, it was down to the fifth and final team to see if they could top the dustbin:

The Duchess of Peckham

This one drew more oohs and aaahs than any other. To think, it was produced in 24 hours. I mean, look at it. This team had worked in the studio adjacent to Jan and Oscar’s, and its former inhabitant, a hat-maker, had left some helpful materials behind, including the stand and the felt which the record sat on. Despite their good luck, it was the ingenuity of these guys that blew me away – the wooden amplifier was made from scratch as was the L shaped wooden joint connecting it to the needle and turntable. The needle was set upon a flattened can of Stella Artois. The player ran on a wind up clockwork mechanism, bought for £3 at a local market which luckily ran at a similar frequency to the 78rpm record. As for the sound? Well, it sounded as good as it looked, which is to say, absolutely beautiful.

 

All of the gramophones, plus a new addition to the Made In Peckham range will be going on display at Clerkenwell Design Week which runs from 24 – 26th May at The House of Detention, Sans Walk, Clerkenwell, London, EC1R 0AS. Open daily 10:00 – 21:00

For more on Hendzel + Hunt check out their website: www.hendzelandhunt.com. Items from the Made In Peckham range are available from The Shop at Bluebird, 350 King’s Road.

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The Art of No Shopping

I’ve decided to give up clothes shopping for Lent for the following reasons:

1) I’m poor and I need my bank balance to stop giving me sadface.

2) I’ve proved my willpower when it comes to food restrictions (over the years I’ve given up chocolate, sweets, all sugar and salt, meat and fish. Not all in one go mind. How do vegans do it?). I need a new challenge.

3) My shopping instincts lead me towards Ebay, sample sales, vintage and charity shops. What can I say, I love a bargain and these are usually the best places to get me one. But that savvy streak is also slightly ruinous – at the risk of sounding like Tesco, Every Little does Help; what feels like a small spend at the time really adds up if you’re finding several ‘bargains’ every week. Add to that the fact that lower prices tend to go hand in hand with greater willingness to take sartorial risks (or is that just me?)  and subsequently more of what we shall politely term ‘Ebay potentials’ nestling at the back of the wardrobe, and you realise that there’s a downside to all this thrifting.  Or perhaps I just need to learn to do it better?

4) I’m slowly realising that the buzz of clothes newly attained is short and sweet; the older I get the quicker it seems to wear off. Sometimes I only need to wear the item once and then I’m happy to sell it on Ebay, even if it was never in the dud category and I really loved it to begin with. Odd.

5) I want to shop more wisely; no, that doesn’t mean sticking to ‘classic’ white shirts and tailored separates but it does mean thinking about whether I really do need another pair of shoes or a great new jacket (both of which I never seem to have enough of). So this’ll be like a cleansing detox before attempting the complete dietary overhaul.

6) I’m partly inspired by Shala Monroque -  ‘I’d rather clothe my mind any day than clothe my body.’ I think by that she means the spending of money in the pursuit of less tangible but more, shall we say, influential, experiences, is much more satisfying than a trip to the shops. I’m thinking she’s right. Hopefully this year shall involve more time and money spent on great books, films, theatre (need to get some trips in whilst I’m still under 26 dammit); inspiring exhibitions; exotic travels; novel experiences and less spent on spangly dresses. Actually, I do myself a disservice. I would never buy a spangly dress.

7) As an added benefit, it makes me feel like I’m doing something rather good for the world in my own miniscule way. When I do shop, it tends to be secondhand,  but that’s not to say I never buy new clothes and but I’m starting to feel a bit bad about the ecological impact of it all.

8) I’m enrolled in a sewing class but my attendance this year has been terrible. I really enjoy it but 2011 has been bloody busy. I’m hoping this Lent’s challenge will give me some added impetus in designing and making my own clothes outside of class.

I’m including make up in the challenge but I don’t anticipate that’ll be hard as I don’t really buy it anyway. Still I have roped in a friend for moral support (I fear that for her the make up moratorium will be harder than the clothes!). If anyone else wants to join the challenge, talk strategy or lend some words of support drop me an email or leave a comment. I may need to harness the power of the group mind here people.

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A few of my favourite things

I’m not a massive fan of blogs that read like shopping lists but I’m painfully aware that the fashion category of this blog currently sits unloved and almost empty. Don’t worry, I do love you! It comes and goes like a tide but it’s just as eternal… (too much? nah, hyperbole is the natural language of fashion surely)

So here are the things I’m currently feeling:

1. Non obvious shearling

I want an aviator jacket. But call me fussy, I don’t want the faux budget ones, the vintage ones are too eighties, and the decent new ones are completely out of my price range. So I shall have to love from afar and wait for providence to provide.

Still, I like a surprise so I’m open to incorporating the pile in other ways. I happened upon an awesome and bargainous vintage sheepskin jacket during the summer and love it instead of the usual aviator shape, it’s a large slightly amorphous lump of pile. It looks like a fifties swing jacket except made from sheep not wool. And because it’s vintage it’s silk lined with a fur collar. Definitely one of my more glamorous items of outerwear, although I do perhaps look like a costume sheep wearing it.

Er, so yeah, non-obvious shearling. Like La Bublé’s* bumbag of which I am very jealous:

susie bubble

*I am not friends with Susie Bubble but I’ve been reading her blog for so long now that in my head she is La Bublé, partly due to her uber blogger status and also I shorten, append and nickname everyone after awhile. Nothing to do with the Canadian singer Michael of the same name. But here’s a pic for good measure:

Huh, who knew he was cute?

2. Leopard print

You know how fashion trends can be a case of too much of a good thing? I think leopard print is the exception that proves the rule. It all started off so innocently. I was browsing one of those Retro woman shops in Notting Hill and came across a pair of Charlotte Olympia ponyskin leopard print pumps. So wrong but for some reason I had to have them. Paid far too much but you can’t put a price on love.

So then the situation got a little out of hand. The pumps were acquired last summer; I then bought some (awful) grey and blue leopard leggings from Primark and a green and black satine blouse from some vintage stall, both now sold/given to charity.

Leopard print gone good

Rather lost my head there I think. Since then, I’ve reigned it in, I’m sticking to natural colourways. So now I have a jacket with leopard trim, and a blouse. My favourite item however, are the pair of ponyskin leopard print sunglasses I got off Ebay during the last days of this summer. Awesome. Now I’m looking for a hat which leads me onto my next item…

…3. Floppy hats

I wish I wore more hats, I just love the instant drama they create. Currently I’m feeling the slightly 70s vibe of a wide brimmed floppy hat. Something like this James Lock & Co one as modelled by Alexa:

4. Mantles

Yes, coats with mantles. Yes they call up images of fisherman perhaps, or the scary old dude/kindly grandfather from Home Alone.

But I was thinking more Iris Apfel in this version:

See, you want one now don’t you?

5. Crazy trousers

For some reason I’m a little obsessed with getting a pair of opulent brocade trousers, something that looks like I’ve just made them out of my curtains or carpet.

I find it slightly strange how even though women have co-opted most male modes of dress, trousers are still so affiliated with maleness that doing anything decorative or embellishing them in some way – even wearing them in bright colours – marks one out as slightly kooky or crazy. Think of the enormous variation of textiles and decoration on skirts and dresses, and then think about trousers (I’m not counting leggings in this). Sure, there’s the odd example of exuberant trousering but still, the imbalance is weird isn’t it? Is it just about prints being less flattering?

A fabric version of this wallpaper would be spot on

I found the perfect material – an ornate skirt from Battersea Car boot sale with the perfect proportions of shimmer, detail and opulence. I’m going to have them tailored into trousers. Glorious!

Picture credits: Susie Bubble, Wikipedia, The Sartorialist, Fashion Tribes, A Lovely Being, Susan TabakVogue Italia

—-

God there’s much more on this list but this is getting embarrassingly long. I’ll leave you with:

  • chunky knits and elbow patches
  • grey
  • outerwear
  • ribbing and quilting and piping especially on trousers

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