Stay In The Game

my dad sheltering from the rain in an underpass yesterday

i've certainly said this every year since i learned to talk, but this has been the WORST SUMMER EVER. unfortunately in the rare moments when the monsoon has temporarily abated i'm way too scared to even relax in the back garden as my thuggish 4 year old neighbour alfie has taken to belting out 'shut up and drive' by rihanna over the fence, except with the words changed to 'shut up and die'.

however, this exists:

IRL

non-paper things from over the past year. this was a self-portrait (aged 3) drawn with party food, about the death of childhood or something.



matt and i created this poster by cutting out words from cardboard boxes we found at the back of the 99p store and suspending them from the ceiling and sticking them to the walls of my living room. it's based on a conversation between sam fox and freddie starr on celebrity wife swap.

&&________♥moc

memba make out club? coz the other day i did and was delighted to see my polaroid from 2003 featuring my great-grandfather's undoubtedly libertines-inspired highland light infantry jacket was still up there, albeit now surrounded by graphics resembling a fusion of b&q wallpaper borders circa '99 with a fat face catalogue. omg though, being pre-myspace and even pre-friendster, that site was probably my first brush with the concept of being cool on the internet. i had postal service and the shins (pre-garden state, gimme some credit) lyrics on it and a deep sentence including a healthy sprinkling of ampersands about sun coming through the window making me want to just ~BURST~ out onto the street (to kill myself on what was really a rather busy commuter route, hopefully). it was a more innocent age, i swear.

a book about unusual things that happened in my house growing up

say something nautical, richard

recently my days have revolved around keeping up appearances on uk gold. i'm such a sucker for hyacinth bucket's brand of endearingly unfunny but delightful middle english snobbery (though i'm glad no immigrants or black people feature or things could rapidly turn more sinister).




and wow, look how trendy hyacinth's promiscuous sister rose is! floral prints, pre-aa pencil skirt combos, stonewashed high-waisted denim shorts and non-ironic gold jewellery. ledge m8.

i'm fascinated and a bit in love with this kind of unpretentiously pretentious (lol) suburban world even if it doesn't actually exist, and (to seamlessly relate this to something irrelevant that makes me hate my life right now) especially compared to the types of gross kids i keep encountering who look a bit edgy but are casually conservative. i never realised before moving to london how much of the ~creative world~ is secretly posh. plotting how to outdo the barker-finches at villa costa blanca and get back at lydia hawksworth for calling your kiwi fruit lower-middle class is so much more acceptable than taking banging hi contrast photos, trust fund squatting then voting boris.