I'm self admittedly indulging myself in the mainstream melodrama that Twitter has become. Far be it for me to criticise the huge swing in popularity for the micro-blogging site, I am instead praising it for, not only being a serious threat to Facebook's dominance of our online lives, but for becoming something which people are religiously following. It's bloody impressive that, in such a short time, a huge amount of people, young people especially, have taken this concept and ingrained it in their everyday lives. After my original cynicism towards Twitter, I now revoke any negativity I may or may not have had towards the site - you could follow me here if you so wish.
So what do you think? Pseudo vintage, whilst slightly fattening upon wearing, I believe that the kit is great, heralding back to an age when football was played by men who would probably have as much beer spilled over themselves at the end of a game, as mud and sweat.
London is under threat... With the demise of Footpatrol, Stussy, Bape, Maharishi and DPMHI, what of the future of our capitals streetwear scene? Bring them all back and, whilst we're on the subject, JD [effin'] Sports could you possibly back off and stop buying everything cool - this isn't Monopoly fellas! The image is of artwork in the DPMHI store - taken from here.
I think I'm forgetting who I am... Or, perhaps, I'm remembering who I was... I'm never sure of these condensed complexities, nor of the rules that govern what, or whom, we may become, and, probably due to this, my musings have pulled me to the brandishing brink of a self-contained collapse - seven months on from my first real loss, I now understand the world a little better. Death is neither a blessing nor a curse - but just angled reality, a creeping craft that rocks and strays across a river of emotion, as sorrow clings to joy, and anger clasps to hope with the same vengeful vehemence of a human soul clinging to life. Seven months on and death is a constant - a rusty, blunt, dull staple. I'll never forget those who have passed, nor the suffering and the pain that followed their passing - this post is to remind myself of that turmoil, of that grief, but, most importantly, of the joy of living and life.
Morbid, but needed. Live life to the fullest. R.I.P Ajay...
English clubs are dominating European football one again, a fact that is both a huge source of pride and a bare faced boast. For the second time in consecutive years, England have four teams through to the Champions League last 16 and, as the draw is to be announced in a matter of hours, I am anxiously waiting for this current round to be announced. As I constantly check BBC Sport for any form of update, there is a aggressively turgid ball of anxiety in my stomach that would usually accompany someone as they sat, twiddling their thumbs with a slightly manic passion, before a job interview. Football is a huge part of me and is, and shall always be, massively central to my existence, hence why the draw has put me in the kind of erratic mood that should generally be found exclusively in crazy people and politicians.
A series of things has forced me to turn my head and look back over the past year recently, and, whilst pontificating over my feats and realisations, I found myself asking, ‘what have I actually achieved?’ Which progressed to ‘am I proud of what I have done?’ Then, ‘am I content with my own personal progression? ‘An even ‘am I content with the progression of those around me?’ Important questions - questions of the big, bad and scary variety – questions that don’t just go away if you shoo them.
I am, without doubt, proud of my progression over the past year: I have seemingly transformed from an East London bred street rat, to someone who may actually find his feet, toes and all, in this tumultuous society - yet I have had to keep myself in check. I have always maintained that I can handle pressure, handle responsibility, handle life, but the past year has taught me that I know little of the ways of the wicked world and that my own place in it, no matter how insignificant, is one that I must cherish. I have lost family members in the past year; I have lost friends. I’ve kissed pretty girls, travelled to New York, bought bagfuls of trainers, met fantastic people and gone to some of the most amazing parties on offer - I am living. I am doing, and I am actively invigorated. I love the fact that my existence means something - that I have the potential possibility to pertinently attain, accomplish and achieve. I can endeavour to aspire and I can make things happen. Yet, like most kids, I potentially could, and almost have, fucked it all up with an effortless ease that is both unbecoming and terrifying. The past year has also taught me however, that energy and drive, determination and perseverance, strength of mind and will, can allow one to pick themselves up, brush themselves down and to keep buggering on, with more unfathomably jolly spirit than Mr Bean on crystal meth.
Almost a year ago to the day, Ruby officially set up the company; and it changed my life. It also opened my eyes to an existence that I could of only dreamed about a year ago. I was told today that I live a ‘charmed existence’ and, upon thinking about it, I deduced that I truly do. I do, and I appreciate it. A few days back, as I lounged around the kitchen space in Weiden + Kennedy, my mentor in the making, the brilliant, if slightly hard-nosed, Karrelle Dixon, sat me down and told me something that will stick with me forever. He swaggered and sauntered around the kitchen, looked at me, and said ‘the worst thing in the world is wasted potential’. It is something I have heard many times, something I thought I understood, yet the words have never had more resonant relevance than at this current time. It made me realise that I can still ‘throw it all away’, that we are all fallible, that none of us are perfect – With those words fresh in my mind, I am making it my mission to build upon the events of the past year, and to strive to some sort of rudimentary success.I will never be static - I will not allow myself to fail.
My mind is constantly cluttered, careering, crashing, coursing, crafting, creak and peaking; constant and kinetic. Unanswered questions remain, yet I shall address lingering issues when my head feels able. This, in the mean time, shall have to do...
Be sure to get down to the store asap, to check out the great selection of skating sneakers available whilst the pop up store is open. With exclusives such as the Quagmire Dunk, and a great range of clothing and accessories, Slam will do well to keep any SB product to the end of the week... Nice.
Nike's 1948 warehouse space in Shoreditch reopened over a week ago now, but, due to other commitments, I didn't have the time to get down to the store until just the other day. The new interior decor is extremely impressive; designed by the renown Wilson Brothers, Nike have cut no costs in creating, what is essentially, the home for Nike Sportswear and tier 0 products in this country. With impressive flooring made from recycled sneakers, and neon lighting blazing from the illuminating installation cast from the ceiling, the Wilson Brothers have displayed their immens talent for creative installations once again. With quality products such as the Liberty dunk, the Cassette Playa blazer and the ACG Magma, 1948 is also home to Nike's NSW range, with hoodies, t shirts and sweats complimenting the exclusive array of sneakers. If you manage to get down to the store, be sure to pick up the 1948 booklet whilst you are there. Edited by Acyde, the magazine offers a breakdown of East London's creative scene with key features on some of the areas most influential individuals, including such luminaries as Mr Batlow of the Ugly Kids Club, Sharmadean Reid of WAH and Carrie Mundane of Cassette Playa. The store symbolises Nike's ability to be one with the culturally relevant movements of the times, whilst remaining evidently impressive and extremely [almost intimidatingly] cool - pop down when you have the opportunity. Images courtesy of the Wilson Bros, taken from here - thanks, sorry...
I'm currently reading one of the most brilliant books I have ever read in my life [and trust me I've read a lot of books], after it came highly recommended by Ruby and I managed to prise it away from the grasp of Roxy [ok, ok we swapped books]. I'm currently easing my way through Matt Mason's brilliant anthropological analysis of youth culture in society'The Pirates Dilemma'. It is about 'how hackers, punk capitalists and graffiti millionaires are remixing our culture and changing the world' and is truly one of the most informative, interesting pieces of factual literature that I have ever had the pleasure of perusing, subconsciously placing Mason as giddily high in my esteem as his fellow geniuses Malcolm Gladwell and Stephen Fry. The book has been around since last spring, yet for those of you who haven't heard of the brilliant Mr Mason, don't be alarmed, or feel that surreptitious twang of annoyance that most people get when they don't know something. As an ex pirate DJ for a clandescent London based radio station, he is is remarkably adept at staying beneath the ranging radar. Upon leaving the pirate DJ lifestyle behind him, Mason since went on to craft a creative career in journalism, becoming editor in chief for seminal London based magazine RWD and writing for a number of publications across the world. A famous journalist he may be, but the real genius of the man lies in the messages he so successfully portrays...
Mason is the kind of writer that reminds you of how far exactly one can go with the right mentality and work ethic, displaying how individuals can forge their own path through this turbulently tumultuous world, without having to conform to the wicked whims of society. Hugely inspiring and progressively breath taking, Mason takes pirate culture to the masses, using a science that is universal and regardless of age whether you be 14 or 40, whilst enforcing a fervent focus on aspiration, creating and the act of Doing It Yourself.
We're Worth It Too magazine's fifth issue, 'The Individualist Issue', was released to the world wide web last Monday and again hosts a strong display of young, up and coming talent. With an excellent piece on body art, alongside pages on The Ugly Kids Club, Trinotron and Perfectly Flawed, the magazine displays a series of strong articles and a fervent focus on fashion. Take a long look here.
Check out the newly constructed WAH Magazine website, as the girls have cut no corners in making the site as brilliant as the concept behind it. WAH magazine [which I recently found out stood for We Ain't Hoes] is the lovechild of stylist and consultant supremo Sharmadean Reid, who felt that the female population of London deserved recognition and a voice - a proper and real female orientated space to talk about their ambitions, aspirations and achievements. WAH, I have come to realise, is about empowering women [Coca-Cola listen the fuck up], as the success of females can be somewhat over looked in many male dominated industries. Reid and WAH are working against this masculine sexist mentality, striking an aggressively feminist stance as she and her team of some of the most brilliant bright [extremely pretty] young things work to make sure that the magazine remains a sonorous success.
Today sees the release of T.Magic's newest set of apparel - a re-release of his original 'The Revolutiuon Is Now' set. Though with less powerful tones replacing those of the original, the new colour theme is in keeping with T.Magics philosophy of vibrant colour. Take a little look, peek here.
Sneakers are a big part of my life, without a doubt [I'm currently hoarding them at a rate of knots and I'm seriously considering knocking in a wall in my room to make space for more of the leather bound beauties], I've lended myself to the culture and, follow them as vapidly as I follow my other passions. Listening to the radio today [Radio 2 - thanks Benny], I heard someone announce that they were seriously shocked that some kids spend anything up to £300 a month on trainers... Don't be surprised. That's nothing. I know certain people who spend that on a single pair a week, hell I would if I could. I lend myself to sneakers and embrace them as art forms, so when it comes to getting my fix ,one of the first places I look across the vast expanse of the net is Flatspot. The British skateboarding, apparel and footwear associated company sell brands such as MHI, Stussy, NikeSB and Carhaart, at, not only reasonable prices, but leading ones too.
I may not know which Beatle is which, but I bloody love these Comic Relief t-shirts from TK Maxx. As part of the fund raising campaign for the annual charity event, Stella McCartney has created this stylish set of tees, with images of seminal figures in the British entertainment industry blazed across white shirts, contrasted only by the red circles across each nose. This year could be an extremely difficult one for any charity event as the recession has tightened everyone's already unyielding purse strings, and the generous quality of a nation shall be severely tested. These t shirts are a start and, at just under £10, are a snip – get down to your local TK Maxx and support.
I was just going through some of the pictures on my old computer and found these pictures of some of my GCSE and AS level coursework. When I find more I'll upload them [alternatively, I could of course just bring out these pictures and snap them, but that would involve missions into either my cellar, or my loft, which, I assure you, 'aint fun', and is fraught with perils along the way... Seriously].