Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Happy Halloween!

















Image from 'It's the Great Pumpkin Head Charlie Brown!' by the late great Charles M Schulz

Saturday, October 28, 2006

Newsflash

Making a concerted effort to be more outward-looking and aware of the news in this blog. It is shamefully introspective and lacking in current events. So.

This is a story to raise the spirits.

Gina Lollobrigida (79) to wed her 45 year old lover. "First came passion, love followed
afterwards."Go, La Lollo!

Gina contemplates taking a husband - but whose?










Meanwhile, in the Evening Standard magazine, Kimberley 'daughter of Rod' Stewart claims to enjoy a drink in the Dolphin in Mare Street, Hackney. Truly bizarre.

(Though it's true, when Lindsay Lohan's not in LA she can be found propping up the bar in the Catford Wetherspoons, while Jade Jagger often shuns the Ibizan nightclubs for a nice pint of bitter in a Peckham local.)

Kimberley dresses down for an evening in the Dolphin









(Here is some proper news about Amnesty and bloggers fighting web censorship in China and other places). Hurrah for the Open Net Iniative and the Freenet Project!

Friday, October 27, 2006

Late starter

When I was little, I used to visit my dad at weekends. He bought me a beautiful purple bike. He lived on a steep hill and I couldn't get the hang of cycling without stabilisers. By the time he got around to bringing it over to our house, I was too big for it - or it was too small for me. (Soundtrack for this story is violins, can't you hear them?) When about 13, I borrowed my mum's bike and fell off it many times in the park before giving it up in a strop.

As for driving, it's a stupid story... when I was around 7, we went on holiday in the Isle of Wight, where we went to the Robin Hill Adventure Park. I queued for five hours to get on the rope slide. Finally getting a turn, I was flying happily through the air when a toddler broke loose from the crowd and ran in front of me.

I tried to swing myself up out of the way but with inevitable synchronicity she was in front of me at exactly the wrong moment, and I kicked her squarely in the forehead. She burst into tears. I burst into tears. I think I was crying more than she was. Being a superstitious Jew, I took it as a sign that I should never get behind the wheel of a car, because I've never forgotten that moment of impact.

But really, what nonsense. You can't spend the rest of your life at bus stops because of something that happened so many years ago, that would be too Flatliners for words.

So this weekend I went for a cycling lesson, with Patrick from London Cycle Training. Patrick is clearly evangelical about cycling and gives me a short disquisition on the physics, the engineering, and the sheer poetry of bikes before we go to London Fields to practice. He is very patient, though I'm a bit flustered and he must feel like he's dealing with a simpleton, eg:

P: 'Turn left out of the gate... Actually Annie, left is in the other direction.'

P: 'How long will it take if you let it go for the bike to hit the ground?'
Me: 'About 5 seconds.'
P: (slight pause) 'Well, more like 2 seconds.'

P: How will you stop the bike?
Me: With my feet.
P: With the brakes.

But all goes pretty well. I can't explain how weird it is to think of yourself most of your life as someone who can't do a particular thing - I've been a pedestrian forever - and then you can.

Hah! Next, watch motorists and innocent bystanders cower in fear as I attempt a driving lesson...





















I'm back!


I already miss Em and the Curve

Check out the flickr photo set



Thursday, October 19, 2006

A short hiatus

Half term, there is no sweeter phrase in the language. Well, mes petits choux-fleurs, I am shortly going to Barcelona to visit lovely Em & the lovely Curve. Have fun, be good, don’t have any wild parties and don’t open the door to strangers whilst I’m gone. And if you get bored you can always visit my back pages – they’re lonely & neglected you know.

Here you can see postcards kind bloggers sent me from around the world...

And pictures of some good-looking people...

Read the famous iPod drama and all about the battle with Apple..

Listen to a short mix tape and a sexy mix tape...

Learn how I narrowly escaped an attempted assassination on Bow Road...

And about how I was a teenage Trotskyite…

Find out what we were all doing in New York a month after September 11th 2001...

Plus, of course, see photos of my dodgy haircuts of yore, also some of Barcelona, New York, and, um, Hackney...

Hasta pronto, muchachos.


Tuesday, October 17, 2006

The last page

The last page

Tee hee!

(With thanks to Miriam and Ash)


Monday, October 16, 2006

Pants

So, trousers. Yes, I know we (women) are all made differently, but who are they making the trousers for, seeing as no one I know can find a pair that fits? Though clearly somewhere out there is a woman shaped exactly the opposite to me, and she must have no problems with trousers, as every pair I try on seem designed for her. Here's the thing, manufacturers and designers:

Women do not go straight up and down like men.

(Okay, models and pre-adolescent girls maybe - oh, you mean that's who designers are designing for? Women shaped like men and boys? You may have a point.)

For the last few years, I have been on the quest for the holy grail, ie, a pair of trousers that I can get over my hips and yet which does not have enough space around the waist to easily fit another person down. (Which I then have to winch in with a belt, causing uncool and unsightly fabric bulge.)

And another thing! What malevolent fashion god decreed that hipsters were the only waistline permissible? The normal waistline is virtually extinct, since the hostile takeover of the hipsters, much like the gentle native red squirrel has been driven out of England by the aggressive behaviour of the vicious cockney grey squirrel.

If you are a model, or a pre-adolescent girl, hipsters are fine, but for those of us of advancing years, hipsters are unforgiving and unkind. Hipsters shout 'take a look at these love-handles!' And they are not v cool for work, because when you bend down, they show, no other way to describe it, bum cleavage. Not v cool at all when you work in a school especially. ('What's that?' asked one of the kids in my class ingenuously. She was not used to seeing much bare skin.)

So I give a prayer of thanks to Levi's (sorry, it's product placement but I really mean it) because I had gone the entire length of Oxford Street & tried on every pair of jeans in every shop til I got to the Levi's shop. My hope was nearly gone.

'I'm looking for a pair of bootleg jeans* which ARE NOT HIPSTERS' and the lovely Japanese assistant glanced at me, handed me a pair, I tried them on in the changing room, and voila! They fitted like they'd been made for me. I nearly cried. I was not a freak of nature! Can't tell you how happy it makes me to have a pair of trousers which actually fit, after all these years of compromise.

*Bootleg jeans are jeans which are slightly wider at the bottom, in order to accommodate a boot, and nothing to do with moonshine whisky, for those of you who do not follow trouser fashion.




Sunday, October 15, 2006

Dirrty

Yes, it's time for the Mix Tape 2... This one’s called Dirrrty – because, just like Justin T, at Slaminsky we aim to put the sexy back.*

Trouble Man Marvin Gaye.
Ah, Marvin. Marvin, Marvin, Marvin... *sigh*

Mesmerized Faith Brown
My gorgeous friend G used this in her gorgeous degree show. Picture, if you will, models slinking down the catwalk in some very fine clothes to this. I would have filmed it but my bastard camera battery let me down. Bah.

House of Jealous Lovers - The Rapture
With some crazy cowbell action.

Gett Off
Pure filth from the His Purple Highness. Never before did a flute sound so hot.

Cannonball
I love Kim Deal. Not content with being in one of the best rock n’ roll bands to ever grace a stage, she went on to form the Breeders and write songs like this one, which actually manages to be truly sexy, not embarrassing and cheesy.

Diamond Dogs
In which Beck covers an old Bowie tune and if possible makes it even more louche & decadent.

A Stroke of Genius
A mashup of Xtina, the original Dirrty girl, and the Strokes. Soz, to whoever this belongs to, I can’t remember where I got it. G very sweetly and innocently thought the lyrics were 'I'm a genie in a bottle, you've got to love me the right way'. Bless her.

If You Want Me To Stay -
The ultimate seduction song from Sly and his Family Stone, and coincidentally my favourite song ever.

What's your favourite sexy tune then?

*Incidentally, anyone who uses Switchpod can tell me why it names it after a random song, and not the name of the mp3 you uploaded?

Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Self image meme

Stolen from Betty








How my folks see me







How my sister sees me










How my friends see me







How the kids see me











How I wish people saw me











How they probably see me


Sunday, October 08, 2006

Antique

They are pulling down the pram sheds in our flats, and chucking out a hundred years' worth of junk. I saw this outside and had to bring it in. It weighs a ton.

L was not happy, pointing out, no doubt quite fairly, that probably 'rats had pissed on it.' But I couldn't leave it to rust away in the rain. I don't know what to do with it, maybe will just take some pictures of it and then abandon it heartlessly on the streets again.
















Saturday, October 07, 2006

Mix tape

All the cool kids are doing it, so I want a go. But it's not so much a podcast as a, um, mix tape. Very low-fi, very dubious quality, such as you made to try and charm your love interest when you were fifteen. Consider yourself my love interest, dear reader.

I am not talking on this. I do not have a microphone, I don't know how, and I hate my voice, which when broadcast sounds like Eliza Doolittle trying to imitate the Duchess of Devonshire.

It is not what I planned, as it's limited to tunes that are non-DRM, (again, thanks Matt.) It will get better, this was just a practice run but it took a while & I couldn't bear to bin it.

Without rhyme or reason, I give to you, the Slaminsky Mix Tape.

Love in a Trashcan The Raveonettes - Glamorous, 60s style but modern garage band, from DENMARK (thanks Rad.)

The Night Of Kittin's Messy Dream
Miss Kittin vs PJ Harvey Thom Yorke vs Corey Hart vs Human League
Yes, it's a mashup, via the very talented DJ Earworm.

A Minha Menina Beck
I believe this is a cover of Os Mutantes, the mentalist 60s psychedelic Brazilians. Portugeuse translations are very welcome.

Heartbeats The Knife
The Knife are great, though I wouldn't want to meet them down a dark alley. To me, this song treads a fine line between romantic and psychopathic, which is interesting.

Bossy remix Kelis
If I were a man, or gay, I would be in love with Kelis, she's a total fox. I like the way she keeps innovating with every new album. Go, Kelis!

Gentlemen Who Fell - Mila Jovovich
Another fox, the beautiful Mila can also sing. Tsk.

Buenas noches, listeners.


Friday, October 06, 2006

No news is good news

What newspaper do you read? It's becoming a real problem.

Though must admit, I'm not a proper reader, skipping the bad news, which is most of it. (I have some sympathy for that newsreader who said a few years back that people didn't want to hear only bad news all the time, and couldn't we have some good news? Surely there must be some good stuff going on in the world... He got laughed out of town, as I recall.)

We grew up reading the super soaraway Sun and the News of the World. It was only really when I left home for college that I saw newspapers without knockers in them.

In Barcelona I was homesick for the Evening Standard, especially the Friday supplement (which was not the execrable, wannabe-Tatler rag it is these days, but more like Time Out in the form of a daily paper.)

The foreign editions of the British papers were really expensive - the Guardian in particular, consisting of about 3 pages of extreme boredom for 5 euros, so I ended up buying the Telegraph which was better value. It also made me feel nostalgic for an England that I didn't really recognise; "this week, we show you how to get the best display out of your delphiniums."

Now I'm stuck. The Guardian is still boring. The Independent is badly designed, and boring. The Mail, beyond the pale. The Times...? Please recommend me something, so I am not reduced to the Metro.

Thursday, October 05, 2006


Ahem.

(You might observe that the header is less dark than usual.)

Thanks, Matt.







Monday, October 02, 2006

A million little pieces

So I'm sitting at the bus-stop on Bow Road, getting increasingly soaked and debating whether to make my way to the gym through the monsoon-like rain. There's three other people sitting on the bench with me. Suddenly we hear a massive bang right behind us, and I'm thanking my lucky stars that my native Londoner's stoicism ('What's-that-loud-bang-oh-probably-just-another-bomb then') means that I don't turn my head, because then we hear an even more massive cracking sound and the entire, glass bus shelter explodes. Explodes onto us. By itself.

I just got home, and as we speak I am picking shards of glass (or to be more accurate, because it was safety glass, crumbs of glass) out of my hair, legs, hands, and (most uncomfortable this) pants. Me and my fellow bus people were all standing round laughing immediately after and going "Wha-... bu-... " until the bus arrived.

I had the following conversation with the bus driver which you might find reassuring in these troubled times:

Me: That bus stop just exploded. We are covered in glass from it.
Driver: There's a number for TFL (Transport for London) on the bus stop. That's TFL, innit.
Me: Can't you let the depot know? It's a bit dangerous.
Driver: Yeh... I don't know TFL's number... I'll call when I get back.

Right.

Anyway, please excuse me while I go and have a cup of hot sweet tea.






Sunday, October 01, 2006

Design me a logo competition

Things are getting predictable around here, and for that I apologise. Nobody hardly visits me no more but people in search of the foghorn-voiced, surgically-enhanced, canon-straddling ex-wife of Sonny. Now this blog is an old lady of 12 months, it's probably time to step it up a bit - but work is hellish at the moment so I've no time to do anything - here is where you come in, reader - you, yes you, sitting at your computer looking at this here screen, I wish you to design me a logo.

That is what is missing around here. Everyone else has one, now I want one. ( those little symbols which I believe may be called avatars or favicons, they're probably unsupported by Blogger but you never know.)

You can:
Leave a suitable suggestion in the comments
Send me in your designs by email or
if you are really brave or an artist of some sort, you can send me a hard copy by post, and I will faithfully scan it here.

In return, you will receive my eternal gratitude and a stupendous prize, which I have not thought of yet.