Tuesday, 30 December 2008
Xmas is MESSY. Why is there a queue AROUND THE BLOCK at Durrr for a Peaches DJ SET? And HOW smart it is to go shopping everyday in Oxford st since boxing day when everyone is elbowing everyone towards end of season reject cocktail dresses. That half-price £1300 handbag isn't FREE, stupid bitch.
The credit crunch only adversely affects companies (LOL at Vice's shitty new paper visibly reduced in size) not individuals, you forget the recession when you're in Prada.
And unless the photos were flipped and maybe I'm being anal.. but why are Londonpaper favs Alexa Chung and Halfhead Dellal wearing their headphones mid-seriously-cool-DJ-face-pose THE WRONG WAY?
P.s Though DJ's Sara and Ryusei have been scratching since 8 and 5, producers also get younger.
Forget Surkin and Bobmo, le High Powered Boys were remixed by two 16 yr old Mexicans.
Hoes get down again. Krylon Remix.
Wednesday, 24 December 2008
Oh dear, coffee'ed at Princi after Belgo Centraal today..
That guy on the internet was RIGHT, those taps are a MIND FUCK in addition to the square toilets that confused my American friends. However the mini pizzas at £2.50 a pop were pretty cute and ofc the whole place stunk of Alan Yau.
'Grats on his interesting take on 'trendy' Italian take-out being the owner of so many 'trendy' East-Asian establishments (Wagamama, Yauatcha, Hakkasan, etc) and being Soho, every gay man named Roxy seemed to know every other gay man wielding Comme des Garcons bags which I nearly jumped into, echoing my days of sorting their stock at Dover Street Market, part-time aged 16 with an enchanted expression.
(Belgo however = FAIL)
Rave on repeat: Project Bassline- Jack Beats 'Rinsed Out Rave' REReReREEEmix, besides Zomby's Rave Mixtape at http://www.dazeddigital.com/Music/article/1583/1/ZOMBY_Exclusive_Back_to_92_mixtape_download
Oh and 'Shine Shine's been Shadow Dancered, unfortunately at 256 kbps:
Saturday, 20 December 2008
Well the Erickson Beamon Christmas party was wholesome as usual.. meaning our production manager dancing to Steps with the Central Saint Martin's graduate interns whilst I eyeball-rolled, swirling my mulled wine after being scolded for paying that full two-thirty-five for a Bracher Emden clutch by his ex-girlfriend until Pro Nails came on.
Something's happened in the family after launching additional shows since Tranoi and doing a capsule collection for Urban Outfitters and Kurt Geiger.. I.e: STRESS, but thank god there's a place in the world where people laugh when I walk into the room and explain "Mm, my NYE was mad, dude was in Gareth PUGH"
albeit following dialogue was:
"Ooh, ooh he's a DJ who's playing at the thingy we're going to on-"
"That's very nice sweetie."
London is visually tiring after one day back, realising the older generation have a thing for animal garments after seeing far too many grandmas in leopard print and why did my mother buy me a vintage over-size button faux fur coat but THANKS?
Probably better to miss POPOF/MATT WALSH/OLIVER KOLETZKI et al at Egg for HERVE/TREVOR LOVEYS/BOY 8-BIT/ZOMBY tomorrow
Instead I'm going to collapse in a pile of toy trains and these fucking-
REALISTIC MY ASS.
Sunday, 7 December 2008
Saturday, 6 December 2008
I notice as the patients get on the bus in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Billy Bibbits's wearing a vintage sweater with a Chelsea cut, McMurphy's in a leather jacket and another's in tartan.
Is this a mental asylum or White Heat?
Is this a mental asylum or White Heat?
Thursday, 4 December 2008
Word on the 'street' (yeah, Sloane St maybe) that Anna Wintour after receiving her OBE, is stepping down from her chief editorial position at American Vogue, stirring up considerable excitement from amongst the bigwigs of fashion houses, to budding CSM/LCF grads and shamelessly self-promotional Hoxton trannies alike (*cough* Lismore).
Further rumours that Carine Roitfeld, Parisian editor is to fill her place seem an implausible joke but who really would be able to replace the scariest lady in fashion?
Known as the most important figure in the last two decades of fashion, her reputation as an intimidating bitch seems to have helped secure such international high regard.
In the same veins, it seems everyone at or near the top is pissed.
To quote 10 Magazine, "We write about fashion darling, we hate EVERYTHING."
Where questions of attending the opening shows of European Cruise collections are based around disgust like, "This ain't new season. This ain't Milan. What the FUCK am I doing here."
It seems anger and genuine incredulity at front row outfits make more sense than blind approval by feigned clapping from the latest fuckwit '/'er.
One frown from Wintour will send the rest of your 'career' down the LFW tent toilets Mr quirky sustainable so-and-so who thinks he's the new JCDC. Nobody WANTS your shitty mermaid tail cartoon tee-dress, FO Dr Noki.
Along with her perma-bob and constant sunglasses at night that would put Tiga to shame, Wintour's groomed yet somewhat dismal clothes suit a London/New York lady in her 50's. She may be ripped on for being a cunt, i.e The Devil Wears Prada FFS, but at least nobody can call her a wastegash in such tasteful Chanel skirt suits.