Category Archives: Books

Round Up

You’ll have to excuse me, as I know I’ve not blogged for decades: I have, as the the generic excuse of every lazy blogger goes, been busy.

I’ve been running all over the place doing all sorts of things, including, directing and shooting a fashion shoot for a well known tailor, attending endless meetings discussing everything from the details and minutia of an innovative start-up to bowels and bloating with another (and there really is a reason for this…), doing another shoot taking photos of bus lanes, buildings and traffic islands for later digital play and many other things. I’ve also been feverishly picking up new camera parts, searching for a new HD-DV cam (thinking of the Canon XH1) and preparing several pitches for several new and interesting potentials.

Alongside all of this the house hunt is once again picking up pace, with everything above and more it’s been a slow process, we’ve also done some (shock horror) socialising, coffee, films and galleries.

I really must whinge about the new Tate Modern exhibition, having made the effort to cross the river eariler this week, meeting dave mid-way across the Millennium Bridge (very Spooks), to go and see the much talked about “Slides”, we were very disappointed to find only two were open, and both of these were filled with devil spawn and their pushy-mummies while the others, gated and guarded by a surly looking Tate modern attendant were apparently ‘fully booked’ – and fuck me they looked it, not. So miffed at not getting to have a go on the slides, we were ultra critical of the installation which seemed even more pointless when you can’t get the endorphin hit they’re supposed to provide on the way down… to us they seemed badly lit, poorly constructed (horrid welding… if you’re into that sort of thing), and just a little uninviting: they certainly weren’t embracing like the Weather Project was, so disappointed at Tate.

However I really must enthuse about The Devil Wears Prada, which is wickedly funny; well shot, beautifully styled and strangely true to life in many of it’s nuances, anyone that’s worked in or around the fashion industry will be able to see someone they know in any one of the main characters. Meryl Streep as Anna Wintour ahem, Miranda Priestly is stunning whilst Anne Hathaway puts in a sterling performance as ugly duckling turned swan. Whilst on the subject of movies I must also say that since Odeon took over the UCI at Whiteleys the seats are now so much more comfy, avoiding that horrid mid-movie-numb-bum, that used to be a danger whenever visiting that particular cinema.

I must also positively drool over Notting Hell, Rachel Johnson’s new book all about the trials and tribulations of life on the communal garden in my favourite part of London, again if you live, or have ever lived in W11 this book will give you deep deep joy, and it’s hilariously accurate, although I’ve yet to come across any reference to Dutch neighbours who fake orgasms every saturday morning – so I’m guessing that that’s just one of our personal experiences.

So it’s Monday morning, admittedly a long time before work is to start, but Monday none the less – I’m promising myself that I’ll do more blogging this week, I’ve got a phone full of more tube fashion disasters and I’ve got tales of a conversation overheard in Starbucks Notting Hill Gate which I’m just too tired to explain the utter ridiculousness of right now, but I promise I’ll do that some time this week!

Winter Urges

As the nights are drawing in I’m finding myself going into winter mode, I find myself being drawn to books, finding an urge to cook again and looking forward to the joys of cold grey days, brisk winter walks and all the things that remind me why I love winter so much more than summer.

I’ve got a definite hankering to get things out of storage, which we’ll hopefully be able to do in the not too distant future, it’ll be nice to have my books, big sofa and all my gadgets back, it’s amazing how such simple things as curling up on a sunday morning to flick through a recipe book or just unwinding with a faithful old friend of a book can be. All being well things should be in a state where we can take stuff out of storage in the next 4 or 5 weeks, all fingers crossed – if they’re not I may have to just go out and buy more books to satisfy my urges; it’s all very well having the internet to read things with, but it’s not the same tactile experience as a book.

I’ve also got the urge to do some more urbexing, there’s an old air force base beckoning and I’d love to go and take a peeky around a certain asylum before Prescott & Co. get their way and let the place crumble to the ground making way for “much needed key worker housing”.


So Pete Doherty’s going to release his memoirs, it’s amazing with all the drugs the papers allege he takes that he can remember anything at all. I can just see it now…

June 1st – Got Stoned
June 2nd – Got Stoned
June 3rd – Got Arrested
June 4th – Got Stoned
June 5th – Verbally Vomited over some new song, and got stoned,
June 10th – Got stoned, did ‘community service’
June 11th – Got Stoned

I’m getting a little sick of seeing people release diaries, sure do it after you’ve lived an interesting life, but when you’re in your mid-twenties it all seems a bit, well… bandwagonie… if that’s even a word. I mean someone in their mid-twenties, what’s there to talk about? The first five years is the same as everyone else, shitting yerself, falling over, learning to walk, talk and stay continent, then there’s the school day’s, which frankly no one wants to hear about, ‘oh i was bullied’ or whatever, what bollocks: well join the club you’re no different to anyone else… then that leaves, what; 5 or 6 years between finishing education and where they are now in life to talk about? And what gets me is they manage to fill a whole book with it, (although most of that is down to using a size 14 font throughout), it’s the same as 2 year old bands having the gall to release a ‘best of’, I mean what are they going to do after that? It’s almost like they’ve lived their life, stop at 30 and then die, and as much as in some cases you might want that to be the case it’s not how things happen in real life is it?

I’m amazed at what crap people put in these books, ok some people may have had a stunning life, but if all you’ve done is get famous for getting your tits out, or lounging about in a house live on channel four, it’s hardly going to make a gripping read is it? It’s just the cult of celebrity taking yet another stride towards the completely ridiculous in my humble opinion

</rant over>