The Staple - The Guardian

Weekend bliss

My weekend is never complete without a copy of the Guardian. It has become an integral part of my Saturday morning, waking up, throwing on my woolly hat, jeans and a comfy jumper and heading down to the Hades of Tesco to grab a copy of it, together with a box of croissants and maybe some fruit juice or a bottle of San Pellegrino. Then a hasty retreat back to the safety of the duvet, casting off the street clothes and tearing open the polythene wrapping which contains the newspaper. I go for the Weekend section first, and check on how my favourite columnists have managed with their variously calamitous weeks. Then it's the Travel section for some inspiration and morning reverie; the Guide for more columns and a look at what my ideal week might involve, entertainment-wise; the Work section out of habit; then I gradually work my way through the rest of it, cherry-picking the best pieces, the bits that appeal. An article on Jacques Demy, Diana Rigg's diary, a Sebastião Salgado photo-essay. All whilst dropping croissant crumbs on myself and slurping a cup of tea. In my very humble opinion, there's no more civilised way to start a weekend. And there's no more civilised ending that blogging about it either. Sometimes I do think I have a civilised life. It's terribly nice. And so to this week's Staples:
The Guardian on a Saturday
Mariah Carey's 'All I Want for Christmas'
Aveda for Men hair products
Having a good clear-out
Steven Poliakoff dramas
Black M&S cotton socks
The Crown on New Oxford St.

The Staple - Paris

L'agrafe

It's only recently hit me just how much affection I seem to have for Paris. Any time I see an image of la belle ville, or cast a passing thought back to my year there, I think to myself 'Oh, Paris!' Of course it has its drawbacks, and I had a very goodtime/badtime year there, but there's something so alluring about that city, still, 2 years on. I suppose it's the same sort of sensation I used to get when I first moved to London, strolling through King's Cross listening to the Libertines en route to Camden, and though I still get that to a certain extent, its much less than it used to be. Paris' - or indeed any city's - allure is completely subjective, but I think that the unhurried and thoroughly civilised pace of life, combined with a classic elegance in both architecture and fashion, nouvelle vague references, and in my case a thorough knowledge of its geography makes Paris very irrestible. It was while on the train back from Leeds that I realised (although reading the Observer's Paris special issue probably helped) that I have such affection for a city. I think the way I discovered it, as a povertylicious student-flâneur probably helped, but Hemingway's quote from his memoirs of his time there sums it up best: "If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast." I can't wait for the new, quicker Eurostar link to open literally under my feet. This week's Staples are:
Spending leisurely time in Paris
Moleskine notebooks
Grey leather lace-up shoes from B Store
Reading literature on the Tube, not 'Metro'
Lemon fairy cakes with buttercream icing
Pink champagne
Jeremy Warmsley's album, 'The Art of Fiction'

The Staple - Gig Tickets

Music is my Kingsize Bed

After all the festivalling this summer, I'd almost forgotten what a gig feels like without sunglasses, shorts and visor, without grass underfoot and blue sky overhead, without warm paper cup of lager in hand and without lanyard around neck. A real, dark, inside gig at a converted theatre where the (real and not canvas) walls are painted matt black and the cries echo around wood-panelling and gilt lightshades. So I was exceptionally pleased last weekend when I met some friends with a spare ticket for The Cribs at Kentish Town Forum. One of my favourite bands, Wakefield's dis-establishment Strokes have enough energy to power your home until fossil fuels expire. The excitment of pre-gig pints, discussing the merits of one album over another, queueing to get in, bag checks and dimmed lights until the vapid NME-muzak cedes to the unmistakable statement; "We're the Cribs from Wakefield" with that elongated northern aaaaaa. And then bouncing, clapping, shouting lyrics, craning of heads to get a better view and taking blurry photos during your favourite songs, as if taking a photo can capture not just the image, but the music and the atmosphere as well. The crescendo of fulfilment that rushes through your body, filling it to the brim; the grins on yours and other people's faces; crowd-surfers throwing themselves into the mêlée of sweating adolscents. I used to do that. The final song, the cheers, shouts and undying applause until the roadies appear and remove the strewn guitars. The cool air outside and the streams of people to the tube. Fabulous. And it's LCD Soundsystem tomorrow. Just that thought is almost enough. Almost. And so to the rest of this week's Staples, which are all along a theme of sensory pleasure:
Having a gig lined up for next week
Wandering aimlessly around the V&A museum in South Ken
Avoiding the rugby with your best mates at The Cock on Gt. Portland St.
Picking up a newly-reheeled pair of shoes from the cobbler
Giving a guided tour of a department store
Breakfasting decadently at the weekend
Crisp evenings by the Thames

The Staple - APC bag

Paris Portage

OK. So it was outrageously expensive. But isn't it fabulous? After a promotion on the Friday, what else could I do but head down for a retail therapy reward? I spotted this bag a couple of weeks ago, hidden on a high shelf at the APC concession. I was attracted by the navy and brown plaid, barrel shape, and abundance of straps. The wool is soft but durable. A side pocket makes it even more practical. This bag bridges the gap between smart and scruffy and looks equally as good with a smart trenchcoat, purple canvas trainers or a work outfit. And the thrill of buying the last one in Selfridges (except the display model), having it packed into a stiff, shiny yellow card bag, hitching it over your shoulder and walking away grinning ear-to-ear, thinking 'I shouldn't have bought that' while cute boys glance admiringly and jealously in your direction, cannot be beaten. Yes, it's materialistic and self-indulgent, but sometimes everyone needs a bit of this. Unfortunately this means I will be eating nothing but toast for the rest of the month, but with a bag like this, so what? With this in mind, here are the rest of the week's Staples:
APC plaid wool barrel bag
Gin and tonic
The Marlborough Arms on Torrington Place
'The Third Policeman' by Flann O'Brien
A Silent Disco in the Tate Modern
The London Love column in thelondonpaper
Black and white gingham shirts

The Staple - Chocolate Log

Yule Britannia

As we edge ever-nearer to an American-style Xmas which begins as soon as the final rays of summer beat down, our retailers begin Christmas earlier and earlier each year. However, this needn't be as bad as you might think; along with the opening of Selfridges Christmas Hall (August 18th this year; a guilty pleasure if ever there was one), the arrival of Yule logs in Tesco is almost enough to take away from its Hades-like atmosphere. These rolls of chocolate joy should be sold throughout the year, and the fact that they are not perpetually flummoxes me, especially the fudge-covered Finest ones. Especially the end pieces. The most vexing fact is that they are still labelled as Christmas food. It is October, and thus not Christmas at all. But none of this takes away from the delicious fudgy filling in between swirls of soft cakey sponge, in solid chocolate. It's almost better than the M&S food porn adverts. Well, this is Tesco. And the rest of the 'Christmas' food selection is similarly palatable; puddings, pies and cakes that recall the roaring fires of home, crisp winter mornings and your favourite winter duvet. Grab some next time you're pushing past your fellow shoppers, I guarantee it'll be worth it. Staples this week are along an autumnal theme:
Chocolate Yule log
Notting Hill Exchange
Long umbrellas with a curved handle ("the surprise formal element")
Cocoa with honey
Luxe merino knitwear layered over American Apparel t-shirts
House parties - especially those with live music and DJs
Rediscovering your old Modest Mouse CDs