Apologies in advance to all my mod friends......
It's that time of year again. August Bank Holiday. The annual mod weekender in Brighton. A chance to wear the best of your wardrobe & forget about everything for a couple of days. Isn't it?
I've been going to mod & scooter rallies for many a moon.....from my first ever scooter run to Torquay in 1983 (all greens, jeans and scary men), much classier affairs in Hayling Island (the Solent Club, the one chippy and running away from casuals), Isle of Wight (back in the days when it was more mods than scooterists and they'd turn you away from a venue if you had trainers on) in the 90s .......to Brighton these days.
I'd get so excited months before the weekends came around....from planning my outfits meticulously, making sure I hadn't worn the same thing for some time incase anyone noticed (they never did!) to packing up my little tartan suitcase and duffel bag. Living in the sticks, it was sometimes a rare chance to see everyone you didn't see often......Sheri & Nicky from Bedford, Sue from Watford etc. etc. It really was the best of times back then.
I still get excited about the Brighton weekend now....but perhaps not for the same reasons. I love to see my friends down there but I think the thrill of waiting to see what everyone is wearing & taking photos of the scooters etc. has gone. What the outside world must think when they see 60 year old men with Paul Weller haircuts, donning parkas with target patches and "Mods" written on the back in tippex, god only knows. If you're one of the said 60 year old men, no apologies from me. There is absolutely nothing wrong with being a mod when you're 60 but the term "growing old gracefully" comes to mind.
This year in Brighton, I found there were a huge amount of people in what I term "fancy dress" outfits - white boots, inappropriate mini dresses and false eyelashes. No wonder people laugh about the mod scene and bring up Austin Power at any opportunity. It was tragic that so many women had so obviously been "dressed up for the night" by their friends or partners. To the girls who wore dark glasses all night at Modesty, to the chavs with potty mouths in colour block M&S dresses & to the white wedge boot brigade, I'm talking about you. Be yourselves, don't try and be all mod or 60s just to fit in....it's ridiculous. And to the sweaty, overweight, bald speed-taking, letcherous 55 year olds....don't. That is all.
Rant over. I will always love Brighton and I will probably always end up going down over the August Bank Holiday....but I'm praying the fancy dress shops will be shut next year. By the way...this is how it should be done.
Monday 27 August 2012
Sunday 19 August 2012
Sport & Me.....
It's official, I'm a changed woman. I've enjoyed the Olympics and I've enjoyed sport! Who'd have thunk it? I can't blame sunstroke or the menopause so I can only think that I really have changed over the past fortnight or so.
I mostly hated sport at school - from being dragged off to the local swimming pool in primary school to being made to run in the snow across muddy old fields in Sixth Form. I hated the school showers, I hated the "picking of teams", I hated pretty much all of it. I did like badminton & I was good at hurdling, but that was the limit of it, and to be honest, I was even a bit half-hearted about those sports! So when London won the 2012 Olympic bid, I sighed a long sigh and dreaded the day it finally arrived.
Back then, I didn't know I'd be living in London again but now that it's all over, I'm glad I have been. I've come out the other end of the Olympics being very proud of the city I live in, proud of how we've done such an amazing job when everyone was sure we'd make the world's biggest cock-up and proud of how we made such a good impression on the world that was watching, waiting for us to cock-up. I've silently cheered on the runners, the cyclists & the swimmers, and enjoyed an Opening Ceremony that I was sure I'd hate! I've seen friends who would normally be doing other things throw themselves into the free olympic events and love every minute of it. And quoting Mr Raison "I'm packing my Olympic case with a tear in my eye. Thank you Great Britain for the best holiday romance ever".
I can't guarantee I'll be watching much sport at anytime soon but I've enjoyed it all and was sad to see the flame go out on London. Thank you 2012 Olympics!
In other news......
Dear Catastrophe Waitress #2 was a big success with happy, drunk folk dancing til we closed. Dancing = a good night so we'll be having more. Next one on 7 September will be a scandinavian music special and if Crouch End isn't bored with us then, a 90s indie special following that. Think Neds, think Poppies, think Menswear!
and finally....on a steaming hot day yesterday, I ventured to the Tate Modern for the Edvard Munch exhibition. Huge amounts to look at but no sign of the obvious "Scream". My very basic review of the exhibition: I liked some, I didn't like others! An acquired taste for sure but for Munch fans, you'll love it. We headed off to Camden Town afterwards for lunch at an old favourite, The Goodfare on Parkway - no longer cheap as chips but still excellent food for under a tenner. When in Camden, it'd be rude not to finish off with cocktails and, as luck had it, Zen Sai had a Happy Hour from mid-day til 8 (practically all day then!) so some lychee gin concoctions & strawberry margharitas were consumed before heading home.
Off now Frock Fans as "House Gift" is in Crouch End and the like and I don't want to miss any more.
I mostly hated sport at school - from being dragged off to the local swimming pool in primary school to being made to run in the snow across muddy old fields in Sixth Form. I hated the school showers, I hated the "picking of teams", I hated pretty much all of it. I did like badminton & I was good at hurdling, but that was the limit of it, and to be honest, I was even a bit half-hearted about those sports! So when London won the 2012 Olympic bid, I sighed a long sigh and dreaded the day it finally arrived.
Back then, I didn't know I'd be living in London again but now that it's all over, I'm glad I have been. I've come out the other end of the Olympics being very proud of the city I live in, proud of how we've done such an amazing job when everyone was sure we'd make the world's biggest cock-up and proud of how we made such a good impression on the world that was watching, waiting for us to cock-up. I've silently cheered on the runners, the cyclists & the swimmers, and enjoyed an Opening Ceremony that I was sure I'd hate! I've seen friends who would normally be doing other things throw themselves into the free olympic events and love every minute of it. And quoting Mr Raison "I'm packing my Olympic case with a tear in my eye. Thank you Great Britain for the best holiday romance ever".
I can't guarantee I'll be watching much sport at anytime soon but I've enjoyed it all and was sad to see the flame go out on London. Thank you 2012 Olympics!
In other news......
Dear Catastrophe Waitress #2 was a big success with happy, drunk folk dancing til we closed. Dancing = a good night so we'll be having more. Next one on 7 September will be a scandinavian music special and if Crouch End isn't bored with us then, a 90s indie special following that. Think Neds, think Poppies, think Menswear!
and finally....on a steaming hot day yesterday, I ventured to the Tate Modern for the Edvard Munch exhibition. Huge amounts to look at but no sign of the obvious "Scream". My very basic review of the exhibition: I liked some, I didn't like others! An acquired taste for sure but for Munch fans, you'll love it. We headed off to Camden Town afterwards for lunch at an old favourite, The Goodfare on Parkway - no longer cheap as chips but still excellent food for under a tenner. When in Camden, it'd be rude not to finish off with cocktails and, as luck had it, Zen Sai had a Happy Hour from mid-day til 8 (practically all day then!) so some lychee gin concoctions & strawberry margharitas were consumed before heading home.
Off now Frock Fans as "House Gift" is in Crouch End and the like and I don't want to miss any more.
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