Sunday, July 17, 2011

lazy hazy days

Spent the day at Hampstead Heath bathing ponds and lido on Friday - a really fun, incredibly wholesome summery day!

me, about to be cold and pondy. taken on my friend josh's diana instant

Well it would've been anyway, if we hadn't transplanted to Shoreditch for the usual chaos of endless cosmos and greasy burgers and pack upon pack of chain-smoked luckies. But a good time was had by all anyway, even if I felt rough as a tramp's ballsack for work yesterday (turns out, boats and hangovers don't mix well. Who knew??). Moving back to North-East Scotland when university starts again is going to be a SHOCK to my system after all this southern pansy outdoorsness and sunshine.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

hustlers and angels

At the moment I'm reading Just Kids by Patti Smith (it's really beautiful - Patti is one of those singers, like Joni Mitchell, whose lyrics I love but think get a bit bogged down in the delivery, so it's good to be able to just read her words. Plus, THERE IS SO MUCH AMAZING NAMEDROPPING. Man I wish Allen Ginsberg had once tried to pick me up because he thought I was an exceptionally pretty boy). Anyway, it reminded me how awesome Robert Mapplethorpe's photography is too.











I fear that when I eventually go to modern-day New York I will be sorely disappointed.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

i want to be inside you

















Balls to the city. When I'm old and widow-rich imma run away to spend my days in a giant tree house. Or a Russian orthodox church. Or a polaroid camera? Yes.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

dusty postcards and polaroids

I am a massive theselby.com addict. Rich creatives being photographed in their gracious homes, yesss please. Therefore, I decided earlier today to represent the middle-class South East London massive, by doing my own version. Here it is in all its dusty, cluttered glory;

Skeleton and bow tie, naturally?


Migraine wall

A few of the embarrassing number of bags I own

Yup.

beloved Harrods bowler hat, absolute steal at £3, from when I used to work in Cancer Research and have my pick of all the stock. Dayumm
These are full of old wedding dresses and fur coats


Matryoshka, 1960s toy cars, Dolly Darlings, Dutch gin
1998 CD player will probably follow me until the day I die

Nicked out of a skip 5 years ago, now scarf and belt storage


The Garden - Ezra Pound

Like a skein of loose silk blown against a wall
She walks by the railing of a path in Kensington Gardens,
And she is dying piece-meal
of a sort of emotional anemia.
And round about there is a rabble
Of the filthy, sturdy, unkillable infants of the very poor.
They shall inherit the earth.

In her is the end of breeding.
Her boredom is exquisite and excessive.

She would like some one to speak to her,
And is almost afraid that I
will commit that indiscretion.

Castles and dodgeways and monsters and highways

Going for a summer cycle ride on the heath is one of those things that I prefer the idea of (looking awfully french and chic, possibly while wearing some kind of jaunty panama hat) to the actual reality (extreme clumsiness leading to bleeding and sweating on hot tarmac, while angry drivers shout and honk). My friend Lo is obsessed, I only just got out of it yesterday - instead we went for gastro-pub sausage & mash and strawberry beer and sat in the garden playing cards, yeee. And yes, I am aware of how much of a fatboy that makes me sound.

Friday, July 1, 2011

tackiness is next to godliness

I don't know what kind of Freudian regression-to-childhood it is about summer that gives me such a terryingly strong yearning for sparkly halter tops and foam wedges and cherry-print, but i think posterity would probably thank me to resist.







I want it I want it.