Guilty Pleasures

Having just been home and cleared my childhood room of things deemed 'not exciting enough to bring to London', I rediscovered an old stack of CDs from my teenage years. Over the last few days, I have (while my flatmates is away on holiday) been indulging in both this and this. If ever there was a guilty pleasure, it's early noughties proto-funk and breathy girl-band pop. Although I feel a little sheepish about these tracks, they will clearly be getting an airing at the next Club Rees.

The Staple - Cycling Culture

You're Better Off by Bike

Of late, I have been obsessed with cycling. It may seem odd, but let me explain: The current vogue in menswear of rolling-up trousers and t-shirt sleeves, coupled with a heightened sense of ecological awareness and the ol’ “credit crunch” all seem to coincide with the bicycle. This fashion stems from two influential points.
First, the bicycle courier; a utilitarian yet very individual figure who is enough of an outsider to convincingly rock a Mohican haircut or a radio headset without looking like a prat, but still prevalent across urban cityscapes, literally cutting a dash through the city. It is the independent, maverick nature of these couriers which is appealing; while they do not have a uniform per se, they are instantly recognisable (even without the bikes), and their daily play with death or serious injury in urban traffic combined with honed physiques and undeniable confidence make them attractive.
Second, the East London fashionite. As the quest for affordable housing in London pushes people much further from the centre, East London’s relatively affordable ‘studio’ and ‘warehouse’ spaces have become the de rigueur place to reside for a good few years now. While trendy in an edgy sort of way, fashionable types working centrally have realized that travel costs are eating into their Beyond Retro budgets, and thus invested in retro bikes in order to commute more easily. As cycle lanes have sprung up, so has the popularity of this method of transport, and now Bethnal Green Road is positively bursting with pretty girls on Pashleys in pastels and pointy shoes.
The convergence of these two scenes, coupled with a particular excitement bubbling up from within my peer group for this mode of transport has seen an influx of courier-inspired fashion details. From mutlicoloured cyclecaps, to the aforementioned cuffing of trousers; fashion spreads in transport/fashion hybrid magazine Intersection and endless photos of our buffoon of a mayor cycling to work, cycling is everywhere. Time to get on the saddle. For me, this t-shirt embodies this scene. Meeting a group of couriers in a central London pub, we got to talking, and one of them was selling these t-shirts. Turns out he'd been involved in an altercation with a Merc, which had run him over. In anger, he'd picked up his bike and chucked it through the Merc's windscreen. Ordered to pay damages, he took the inventive approach of making these t's and selling them off, thereby easily recouping his losses. Hotheaded initially, but with the support of not only the courier community, but the wider public also, this for me was a tipping point into cycling culture. Send in the bikes...
Other Staples this week:
Embracing cycling culture
Field Day festival
Trampolining
Rediscovering Mario Kart & GoldenEye on the N64
M&S Scones
Relaxing on a sofa
Pac-a-macs

EDIT: Just as I was about to publish this post, a TfL adfor cycling appeared on the telly; thus inspiring the title. Fate...?

The Staple - Music Festivals

Vive les Festivals

So here's what I've been up to in July. Basically, the festivals have taken over my life. I was planning on keeping this summer a little more low-key; last year I made it to eight festivals in all. This may seem entirely bonkers, and I suppose to some extent it is. But when your passions are live music, partying and dressing up in improbable combinations of clothes, there is no better place to combine all three. As July unfolded, I took the first Eurostar of the day to Brussels, where bemused business travellers sat amid huge rucksacks, cagoules and tents, the zzcchhvvip of fastenings sitting uncomfortably next to their pink shirt-and-tie combos. Rock Werchter is Belgium's answer to Glastonbury, and it showcased many of the same bands, but for much cheaper, and with the added bonus of a 24-can crate of beer costing just €13. Crowdsurfing to Justice, being awed by Radiohead for the second time in a week and rocking it up to everything from Kings of Leon and Beck to Duffy and Digitalism; the whole weekend melted into a blur of music, beer and good times, the photos marked only by the differing outfits. A favourite was using an old orange mountaineering cagoule over a tshirt and shorts, cuffing the sleeves and belting it in at the waist with a gold braided belt and accessorising with the gold visor and some purple canvas shoes. Sounds ridiculous, and it wasn't until I got back and spent the first half of the week marvelling at Facebook that I realised it was. The following week was party central, no time for recovery - Simian Mobile Disco, Jamie Lidell and Rockfeedback at the Cross Kings flashed past, all bleeps, sax and dancing on tables. Just a few short days of work (and some very civilised jazz in Stoke Newington) intervened into this party schedule as Latitude loomed into view. Another chance to see the majestic Sigur Ros, and experience the fabulous Joanna Newsom, as well as catch Interpol, Blondie, Midnight Juggernauts, Shortwave Set and Lykke Li. Unlike RW, Latitude was a tad more civilised, but that didnt stop the backstage forays, beer-filled breakfasts and ridiculous dressing; a highlight here was an outfit of 1980s CITV presenter pullover with burgundy jeans, blue shoes and a multi-coloured silk cummerbund patterned with New York theatre tickets; it looked as though a rainbow had been sick on me. Post-Latitude, a couple more gigs followed and a triumphant night of DJing at Club Rees @ the Fly rounded off the week. All that remained of the month of festivals was a quick day trip to Secret Garden Party (guttingly missing the inimitable spectacle of Grace Jones), and then a Leicester Square premiere (natch); here I managed to pull off gingham shorts on the red carpet, pairing them with grey bstore round-toe lace-ups, a black polo shirt, silvery scarf, belt and sunglasses. This sort of month barely leaves time for work, and I think, one month (or perhaps two if you feel like pushing it) of the year should be reserved for this sort of partying. With a veritable glut of festivals across the globe all summer, from April right through to September, it's important to be able to let go, follow the music and just go and have a damn good weekend (or 4) with your mates. Festivals are a Staple, but more important is your approach; push where you need to, rest where you need to - there is no place more suitable constructed for a week of hedonism. Bring on Field Day! Amongst this festival of a month, other Staples comprised:
Festivals (Rock Werchter, Latitude, Secret Garden Party)
Estelle's infectious single, 'American Boy'
Patterned cummerbunds
Warm cans of lager
The feel of grass constantly underfoot
The magic of Facebook's photo-tagging
Home-made lanyards and line-ups

Stapled

It's been over a month since the last Staple, so I guess I should at least give an excuse for the lack of posting. Unfortunately (well, not really) a hectic schedule of partying and festivalling took over my Monday evenings, and the delicious habit of Channel 4, a good meal and a blog that I had worked so hard to develop disappeared. Quite a few times this month, this lack of blogging has hit me, and I've actually had a great number of things that I've been meaning to Staple. Starting from now, I'm going to try and blog at least twice a week - potentially without including the "enduring leitmotif" (as termed by a great friend of mine) of a oven photo - in an effort to rectify this oversight. As a bonus, along with my fantastic DJing partners The Brothers Rees, there is a new blog for all your DJing needs, essential songs and general banter. OK, back to business with another Staple...

The Staple - Pastels

Fruit Pastels

This week I had the questionable luck to be hanging around waiting for a mate at Oxford Circus, and I decided to pop into H&M, just to have a look, while I was waiting. Having not crossed the threshold there for quite some time, it was a pleasure to wander around in the evening of a quiet Monday, without wading through the quicksand of neon teenagers. Maybe I'm just getting old, but Oxford Street on a Saturday now fills me with terror me, rather than the feelings of excitement that I had when I first came to London. On this occasion, I quickly grabbed a few polo shirts and a couple of neckerchiefs, and suddenly remembered just why it is that H&M is so busy - it's very cheap and very cheerful. Pastel polo shirts are my summer look, and this lilac one will be replacing a much-loved Lacoste one that is now practically sheer. A few weeks ago I bought a couple of polos at Rokit in Camden, just fairly plain in a lovely turquoise-teal and a powder blue with a maple leaf design on the breast pocket, however these were £15 a pop. H&M's were less than half that, just £5.99. That's absurdly cheap. I bought three (the lilac; a vibrant orangey-red, and a lovely sky blue) and am very impressed with both the quality and cut of them. The two-button placket is relatively stiff and looks great buttoned to the top, and the pastel shades work brilliantly with pastel cardigans. This clashing Hockney-via Burberry Prorsum S/S '05 is a smarter way to wear colour this summer; pastels take the brightness and mute it down a little, and when paired with a more subtle colour of jeans (burgundy; grey; black) or shorts leads to a smart yet still fun look. I’ve also been hankering after adding some pastel canvas shoes to my growing collection – Topman’s mint pair are top of the list, followed by their subtle (ish) peach pair. I'm a long way off dressing all in black yet...
Other Staples this week:
Pastel-coloured polo shirts and shoes
The Miller pub in London Bridge
Matthew Dear at the ICA (with my Dad)
A glut of sample sales (Thanks McQ!)
Whisky & ginger
Squint Homme magazine

UPDATE: So I bought the peach ones yesterday as they didnt have the mint ones. they are delicious...

The Staple - Full-Size Umbrella

The Surprise Formal Element

During the recent rather changeable weather, I have been carrying an umbrella with increasing frequency. And not a fold-up black one either; these ALWAYS break, unless you shell out £20 for a posho automatic opening one, which I am loath to do. A long umbrella - ideally not covered in golf or banking brands - is the mark of a gentleman. A curved handle is the masculine portion of a brolly, and makes it surprisingly practical when travelling by tube with your hands full. An umbrella should also have a steel tip for a reassuring clack when walking. This example, purchased from a supermarket in Brittany of all places, is perfect. A lovely chocolate colour with surprisingly smart cherry-coloured pinstripes and a soft-touch black handle. Agreed, it's no James Smith, but it's a pretty good start considering the likelihood of my losing umbrellas, and the distress that misplacing a £100+ brolly would provoke. For the princely sum of 8 euros, I have an umbrella that will smarten any outfit - I once read in the Sunday Times Style supplement that a full-size umbrella provides a "surprise formal element" and I have found this to be true - it not only dignifies even the scruffiest of jeans, but when walking with a baton this size, it forces you to walk properly and with a certain swing in your step. It's also very useful for batting small children, dogs and tourists out of the way on the tube. Some might say that there's certain Freudian element about the size of your umbrella, to whom I say if you had a steel-tipped pinstriped penis, you'd probably want to show it off as well. Anyway, give them a try, man or woman - full-size umbrellas are the only way to combat this vile global-warming induced weather...Other Staples this week:
Full-size umbrellas
Rubies' album 'Explode from the Center'
M&S Cheese scones
A day in Brighton with the parents
The Betjeman Arms in St. Pancras station
Andrew Rae's postcards
Neckscarves