You are currently browsing the monthly archive for October 2009.
In the lead up to my move to London an English friend of mine advised me “London forces you to step up, to be the best person you can be”
Hmm… what an odd thing to say I thought.
But after 6 weeks here I am finally starting to understand what she was saying. London is a fairly unforgiving place. It’s big and impersonal. It’s cold and unfriendly. But, god damn, it’s also one of the most exciting and vibrant places I’ve ever been.
It’s a fairly intangible concept; the London “vibe” – a tip of the tongue kinda thing. And it’s not a fog that surrounds you, it’s a breeze that whips by you; you only get a glimpse of it at a time. Walking down the street, discovering some new neighbourhood, having a great time with friends in a trendy restaurant, or… when you have a win.
By win I mean any challenge you face and overcome. Very simple things – getting your phone connected, ordering your shopping online – are little challenges that suddenly make you feel closer to the big bad city that is so compelling to you. Big wins – finding a great apartment, getting a good job, finally getting your NIS number (!) – make you feel like you could conquer the world.
And it does go beyond just setting up house (this is just where mine have been focused so far). It’s for everything; London brings out all the little ambitions of your personality you never knew you had – I’m going to take a drawing class after an afternoon at the National Portrait Gallery, I’m going dress better after shopping on Oxford St, I’m going to brush up on my history after my tour of Westminster Abbey, I’m going to try all the best restaurants and bars in town… the list goes on.
And that’s what I think my friend was talking about. She means that London is a challenge because it opens up a million doors and dares you to walk through. And how friggin exciting is that?!?
(…But no, I do not yet want to run a marathon like everyone else I know who’s been through this town; I figure it’s only a matter of time.)
I’m sure this trend cannot be exclusive to London. However it is so disturbing that I cannot help but raise it. I am not often wont to give fashion lectures; far be it from me to criticise another’s freedom of expression.
BUT has anyone else noticed how many young girls are walking the streets of London – and dare I say it, your city too – with NO PANTS ON???!?!
I can see where the problem is; but it’s a bit complicated to explain so bear with me.
In order to save money in fabric yields, fashion companies started making all their dresses shorter (less fabric = cheaper production = higher profits, simple). Problem was, no one wanted to wear these tiny dresses, so the fashion companies started releasing tights and leggings which could be worn underneath. The trend took off – women love leggings. And its been brilliant for the fashion companies; they now seem to all specialise in making a garment that is longer than a shirt but shorter than a dress. This awkward length serves only to further entrench leggings into society.
But then something changed: leggings morphed into “jeggings”. Jeggings are legging versions of jeans or pants. They are just as tight as leggings, but have all the trims of jeans – pockets, studs, stitching, etc. They are made of a thicker, stretchy legging material.
I told you its complicated! If you need a more visual picture, see the Topshop online store with its three pages of legging varieties here (!!)
The introduction of Jeggings is obviously one step too far because the general population of women – mostly teenage girls – have got it very, very wrong. BUT LET ME BE CLEAR: Jeggings can be worn with a shorter, normal length top, because they are considered pants. Leggings, on the other hand, are definitely not pants. Tights are even less panty than leggings. It’s a subtle, yet very important difference.
Yet here these girls are, strutting down the street without even realising they are not wearing pants. I’m embarrassed for them. I don’t think I even need to say the word crotchy. Ewww…
NOTE: For UK residents, reference to 1[pANts] in this article = [trou-sers]sy
In what I feel may be the first of many blogs about the tube, I have decided that I should start off on a positive note. Some too-far jaded expats may argue this is not possible. I would like to throw down the gauntlet to those people and dare them to deny the awesome power of the Oyster Card.
The way I see it, the Oyster card has two facets to its power. The first is its practical applications. It gets you onto the tube and onto buses; you can buy season tickets for varying lengths and varying zones; and you can even add extra credit for cheaper fares for travel outside your season pass. It is simply the most flexible travel pass I have ever carried. There is no fannying around with weeklies, travel tens, change, bus, train, ferry whatevers – it’s all there in one pass. A pass which does not need to be taken out of your wallet either; and this leads me onto the real awesome power of the Oyster Card…
The second power of the Oyster Card is its ability to make its user cool, even if it’s only for the 2 seconds as you pass through the tube station gates. At every tube station you are presented with a wall of black gates; there are people everywhere who are trying their hardest to get through – at the ticket machines, at the counters, talking to the guards – its mayhem. But you, with you Oyster Card hidden in your wallet, walk quickly and confidently up to the gates and without even stopping you touch your pass to the pad and you’re through, leaving all the sad suckers behind you; awesome. The people left behind are awestruck; how did you do it?
It can backfire though so be careful. There is no room for dilly dallying – once you swipe, you walk through with purpose or those gates are going to come crashing down on you HARD and yes, it hurts. Forget it if you have luggage – don’t even try (I give you this warning from experience) – you will get stuck. Best just go for the fatty gates next to the guard.
But I think that the fact that so many things could go wrong actually makes it so cool when all goes well. It’s all about confidence; you have to believe you can do it.
(And never mind the analogy with “key of power” and “black gates” – anyone with me here? LOTR? Maybe stretching it too far…)
I love sunglasses. I wear them all the time. On sunny days they protect my eyes from the sun’s harmful UV rays – yes, I slip, slop, slap and wrap thank you very much. But I like wearing sunnies even when it’s not sunny. Grey, overcast skies tend to give me migraines (I know, right? Why then did I move to most notoriously grey sky city in the world?) To combat the headaches I wear sunglasses – pretty simple.
I usually keep a few pairs around me at most times. They are always cheapies because while I love them, I also lose them. Alas, after much braking/losing of late, I only have 1 meagre pair here in London. A clear plastic pair with squarish Ray Ban-style frames I bought because I thought they would “go with everything”. Bit unfeminine, more rocker.
So here I am, strutting around London in my rocker sunglasses trying to be cool when slowly it dawns on me… I am the only person in the whole bloody city wearing them! That might not be completely unusual on a grey or rainy day, but there’s nothing but naked-eyed people here on blue sky days too. I feel overdressed. It’s a sunglasses ghost town.
Experience with Brits on holidays has left me well versed on their aversion to sun protection – I think we have all seen our fair share of the Red Lobster Pom. (In fact, I saw a guy so sunburnt in Turkey he actually looked like Zoidberg, the red lobster man from Futurama – he just HAD to be British). But sunglasses are not just about protection – they are a fashion statement – and Londoners certainly go in for that. So what’s the deal?
From strutting to squinting, I was at a loss to explain this weird phenomenon until I made my first visit to Camden markets at the weekend. I let loose a big sigh of relief; turns our all the sunglass wearing people are hiding here! And the nice thing is, if you don’t already have a pair, there are HEAPS on sale here. I pulled out my much mistreated sunglasses and disappeared into the crowd. Turns out, sunglass wearing is just like anything else in London; you just have to know where to go.
Finally I am moving into a permanent home; a lovely little partially furnished flat in the city of London. I have just made up the bed and have noticed, much to my dismay, that this bed is TINY.
OK, to be fair, friends did try to warn me about this. I may even have noticed that something wasn’t quite right during the week I spent out viewing flats to rent. But I dismissed all concerns as abstract, arbitrary and something to deal with sometime in the future.
Well the future is here baby and I have to share this bed with my 6’2’’ partner. And I’m no shorty myself. We haven’t had to sleep this close together since university when we first started dating – when you actually want to be close all night. Why is this bed so small?? Because London is short of space? Because the UK is taking longer to modernise from the midgets of the past?
According to the Better Sleep Council in their article “Which Size Mattress is Best?”, sleeping in a double bed means that “each person has only as much sleeping space as a baby’s crib”!!!! What the? Further to this, they recommend that the “Full size [double bed] is only enough space for a single sleeper and only if under 5 feet 5 inches tall.” Perhaps they should add a warning to double beds – WARNING: This bed will force relationships into a make or break situation. Can you handle being this close ALL NIGHT?
Only time will tell whether my partner and I survive this small bed partnership; stay tuned.
I’ve just gone through my third carton of milk here in London and just like the previous two; it went off before its expiry date! It must be noted that they were only out by 1 day; but still! Outrageous!
On the positive side, this may just be my first true local London experience – something that tourists would not experience. And now I’ve shared it all with you.
Quickly, before the weather turns sour and I see them no more, I must proclaim my love of the English Rose. Never have I seen roses grow so well or in such quantities…. OK, not that I had necessarily noticed them much before now; but that was probably because I never saw any worth noticing. My next door neighbour in Sydney grew roses – he seemed to spend half a lifetime in his garden scratching around in the dry sea-salted earth and I never saw more than a few roses at a time, and they didn’t last very long. Poor man, he should have been in England!
In England roses are BIG, FAT, JUICY and COLOURFUL; and yet still delicate – with petals that look as though they have been soaked in water and dip-dyed with different colours all running into each other. I have seen roses in nearly every garden I have been in – they grow all around the gardens surrounding St Pauls, in the Temple Gardens, in St James Park and even in my friend’s backyard. I have seen roses that are bright red, deep crimson, orange, coral, yellow, cream, white and all these colours mixed; white with red dots, cream and coral melting into each other, fuscia with crimson tips. I didn’t realise I could appreciate a rose so much!
Roses are the national flower of England (although it does have to share with the USA) and this comes down to good ‘ol Henry VII who first adopted the rose as an emblem upon taking up the crown in around 1485 at the end of the War of the Roses. Fought between the houses of York (symbolised by a white rose) and the house of Lancaster (symbolised by a red rose), Henry’s symbol became a combination of the 2 – a red rose with a white rose on top – often called the Tudor Rose or the Union Rose.
But there is another “rose guy” who I feel I owe much more to for London’s beautiful rose displays; than man being David Austin, one of the most famous rosarians in the modern age. David Austin breeds Old Garden Roses, famous for their character and fragrance, with modern rose varieties which have repeat-flowering abilities and more colour variety. Maybe they will last longer into autumn than I thought?
louashton
