Much like tea, chocolate and diamonds, you should always ensure that your pets are ethically sourced. Sadly it seems puppy farming is still alive and breeding fast – despite switching to a cold wash cycle and only ever buying potatoes with the Soil Association stamp of approval, as a nation we are supporting an exceptionally unfair trade and we don’t even realise it.
 

If puppies are your thing (and let’s face it, if they aren’t your thing, then your soul is clearly made of plywood) then you’ll probably appreciate the opportunity to just say no to the brutal process of farming, and find out where you can purchase your next guilt-free and healthy pet?
 

Then this, canine friends and fans, is for you – on 19th September 2009, Brighton Racecourse is hosting the ‘World’s Largest Puppy Party’. Organised by snazzy social networking site ThePet.Net, the day will feature a dog show (judged by celebrities Carol Cleveland, Chris Ellison and Frank Burnside) , all day heats for your dogs to compete in and will be attended en force by a mass of the wriggling, licking, joie de vivre that are PUPPIES!
 

Proceeds from the event will go to deserving causes: Pro Dogs Direct, Hope Rescue and Sussex Pet Rescue. And if that ain’t enough to tempt you, there is even talk of making the day an official world record attempt. The words ‘puppy’ and ‘party’ smack of a rollicking good time to me, so stuff your pockets with bacon, give Fido a bath and a polish and pride yourself on attending the event to be seen at on this year’s doggy social calendar (aside from the Howling at The Moon Festival and The Big Bust-Up Over Bones).

The Thinking Men’s Project is launching (do you see what they did there? You will in a minute) itself in Brighton this July by holding a grand and glorious fancy dress bungee jump. (Launching. Bungee. Geddit?) 

Entitled ‘One Giant Leap For Man’ (you must see what they did there?), participants are asked to dress up as their number one male idol and then prove they they are in fact, man enough, by throwing themselves from a great height - ankles last, breakfast first. That’s if you’re man enough to eat breakfast beforehand.

Let’s hope the costumes are appropriate for this level of activity.

All money raised will be put towards local projects dedicated to:

• Improving men’s health and life expectancy
• Addressing boy’s educational under-achievement
• Tackling violence against boys and men
• Supporting fathers by closing the parenting gap

So say yes to testosterone and fool-hardy acts of bravery! Do it for your sons. Or your future sons. Or somebody you know who has a son. 

Saturday11th July, Madeira Drive, 12-6pm

www.thinkingmen.org.uk

Oh Simon. Come live with me, and be my love. I’ll separate your curls each morning. Iron your shirt collars till you could slice a crusty loaf with them. Buff your tongue with vinegar and Jif Lemon, ready for a day of making acerbic comments. I’ll only try and shag you the once. OK, maybe I won’t learn from that, and get you drunk and try it again. But it’ll be love in its purest form Simon, and that’s what counts.

Yours Truly,

A (slightly obsessed, but not dangerous) Fan

Simon Amstell – Do Nothing

That’s Brighton baby. Yeah. The south east is one of the most densely populated areas of Britain. It’s heaving with hotties. Or at least, people that you could consider dating.

One small problem though, this plethora of potential partners may be difficult to get a firm grip on. Because Brighton is bubbling over with variety, there’s always going to be somebody new to see and, urm, do. If you want to secure at least the prospect of a second date, and putting out is something you’d rather put off, you’re going to have to make that first meeting memorable.

Drinks or dinner are a reasonably safe choice, provided you don’t order something soaked in garlic, or tend to mis-read situations when you’ve had a few ales. But this sort of intimate setting will require you to sparkle – keep a, if not the, conversation going. Could get tricky, unless you’re the sort of insanely confident person who never suffers from nerves, only a general sense that everything they embark on will be a success. If this is you, then frankly, get off my page.

If you arrange a date at any of following however, not only will you ensure that there will definitely be something to talk about beyond the menu, you will also go down in dating history as the one that  decided to be different.  Your cup will runneth over with sexual promise. ‘He who dares Rodney…’

The Sea Life Centre, Marine Parade, BN2 1TB

The main attraction, the turtle tank, is where you should centre your visit around. Provided you’re on time, a member of staff will talk the assembled crowd through the various floating wonders of the deep. The highlight of these is Lulu, the vegetarian green turtle, who weighs 32 stone, and doesn’t appear to be sticking to her diet. She can often be witnessed gobbling down the bloody offerings meant for the sharks and her turtle chum, Jersey. Next to Lulu, you’re going to look pretty suave.

 Earthship Brighton, Stanmer Park, BN1 9PZ

Don’t get too excited, deep space fans. Earthship Brighton may be the first of it’s kind in England, but it’s got diddly squat to do with science fiction. This is a facts based date. Earthships are “cutting edge ‘green’ buildings, constructed using waste car tyres and other recycled materials”. A first date here will undoubtedly say – ‘hey, I care about this planet. What an intelligent, compassionate individual I really am. Don’t you wanna get with this?’ It’ll also enable you to broach the tricky subject of compatible lifestyle goals .

Orb360, Devil’s Dyke, BN1 8Y

The basic premise of orb-ing:  strap willing participant inside a huge transparent rubber ball thing, and launch off top of nearest hill. Devil’s Dyke does nicely. Don’t be dissuaded by the prospect of vomiting, if you can manage to hold it and your stomach together, then this is a sure-fire method of impressing just about anybody with your fearless disregard for getting red of face and ridiculous of hair. If you orb a deux, then this is also a good way to get up close and personal without appearing too keen. If they react badly, you simply blame gravity.

Brighton Victorian Sewers Tour (call 01903 272606 to book a place)

How many people have you ever met that can tell you a story about the time they found love in a drainage system? And not just any drainage system. “One of the most magnificent examples of civil engineering from that glorious period of ingenuity.” You get to wear a hard hat. You get to emerge from a man hole in the middle of Old Steine Gardens. You’ll get a result.

Penny Arcade Museum, Kings Road Arches BRIGHTON, BN2 2ZD

Fifty novel slot machines dating from 1900 to 1960, most of them available to play. If you want to make the  impression that you a) are generous with money and b) can make learning fun, and provided you can guarantee to take more interest in your date than the exhibits, then be brave and suggest a visit. If they don’t show up, you’ll still be able to amuse yourself.

However, at this weekend’s Japanese festival (kindly brought to the people of Brighton by Moshi Moshi) Seiko Kato caught my woefully inexperienced and lazy eye. A graduate from the University of Brighton, and now a freelance illustrator, she has produced a startling range of collages, drawings, textiles and 3D montages. All made from, or inspired by, items she has built up a collection of over the last 5 years. Damn, this woman must have some storage space.

Perhaps a little too eerie and complex for your average mantelpiece or downstairs bathroom, you should still definitely find some time to peruse her work, and see where it takes you. Make sure the kiddies are in bed first though.

www.seikokato.com

Brighton Engine Rooms Friday 15^th May 2009

Reviewed by Amy Russell

It was a horrendous night in Brighton as I made my way along the seafront to the Engine Rooms, and being my first visit to the venue I was a little lost when I asked people outside a bar where it is. The lad stepped aside to reveal a hand painted sign stating that I had in fact found the entrance to my desired destination.
Much to everyone’s relief the doors opened a little after seven and we shivered as we took in the warmth, and walking down a spiral staircase I actually got a little nervous – the place is dark, mysterious and underground. I took it all in, the little rooms with sofas off to the side and the dancing pole that I suspected was either a construction fault or a deliberate attempt to add to the quirkiness of this place. Chris Murray was playing over the speaker as the Meow Meows set themselves up to play.
With two singers and so many instruments it would be easier to just say they didn’t have a tambourine player crammed onto the stage as well. They played some upbeat ska tunes that had some of the – notably male dominated – audience dancing around the space in the venue that had not yet filled. I couldn’t help but notice at this point that they did in fact resemble a group of pigeons in the park and I found myself giggling away at the funny dancing. Not for too long though, the Meow Meows were a captivating band, dancing amongst themselves and obviously enjoying making the music that they did very well. Brilliantly put together, brilliantly played.
The place filled up a bit more towards eight o’clock as The Slackers set up their array of instruments, and appeared to have a spot of bother with the microphones. After all was ready, the five men from NYC, casually, unannounced, begun their two hour set. To a cheering crowd they eased into their first two songs without saying a word to the audience, who didn’t seem to mind, the room filled with bodies bouncing in time to classic songs like ‘Married Girl’, ‘Bin Waiting’ and ‘Sooner or Later’.
Their appearance was wonderfully unique, bassist Marcus Geard sporting a white tux with a matching white bowler hat, supporting his bass on a stool and playing it upright in a way I have honestly never before witnessed and thought was utterly fantastic!
Lead vocalist Vic Ruggiero was on top form, his clear, strong voice not wavering at all. There is definately something different about his vocals that I just can’t pin down, but they are every bit as wonderful live as they are on record. Glen Pine shared his voice for a lot of the songs as well, I don’t about anyone else, but I was mesmerised by his facial expressions! Saxophonist Dave Hillyard wore a smile under his hat all night, clearly loving the atmosphere – which was incredible through the whole set.
Before an encore featuring a much sought after ‘Sarah’, they played ‘Peadophilia’ which they followed with an awe inspiring instrumental, in which each musician shared their talent and Pine and Hillyard took a wander through the crowd with their instruments. Who absolutely loved it. The band worked with their audience throughout the night, Geard reaching and shaking hands with the audience in intervals between songs, the band having a bit of banter on the stage and even inviting someone up to sing for Glen in ‘Sarah’, only for the poor lad to discover the microphone was off. They shared a hug and he hopped off the stage. This was a fine example of the camaraderie felt on this evening.
To summarise, they played fantastically, and it was wonderful to see a band enjoying what they were doing, and being able to play their instruments well. As a member of the audience, I not only felt I was watching them, I was with them. Like Vic Ruggiero said, everybody had ‘ska fever’ or even ‘reggae flu’ and if they didn’t to begin with they certainly did by the end of the night.

This is an entry for the Beachdownwriter competition.

The prize is a Press Pass for the Beachdown Festival

To see all of the entries www.thehussy.co.uk/tag/beachdownwriter

We all fancy a bit of that, don’t we? There’s a reason that song hung around for so long. And it isn’t because it was actually any good. It’s because most of us yearn for, or at least occasionally crave a personal jet on standby, a queue of quivering fans offering to lick us all over and a healthy disregard for the rules of modern society, ‘cos they don’t apply to mofo-ing superstars. Hedonism is great fun. If you can afford it.

Well, there is one way to feel like a genuine star of rock, without having to take out a second mortgage, or bite the head off something small, innocent, and still breathing. Go somewhere posh and exclusive. Behave very, very badly. Get kicked out. Take a seat in the gutter and revel in your newly acquired bad ass.  Instant credibility. Sort of. Well, it works for Liam Gallagher. Sort of.

The Hanbury Club, 83 St George’s Road, BN2 1EF

“ The club evokes the old school supper club feel of the 20′s and 30′s but with an up to date vibe.”

Excellent. Assemble yourself an entourage, don a monacle and book a table. Best eat beforehand though, because you should be flicking the food at each other, rather than rolling it around your well-trained pallete. Extra points for gargling with the award-winning cocktails.

Blanche House, 17 Atlingworth Street, BN2 1PL

If you want to wreck a room, there are 12 to choose from. Put it on somebody else’s credit card though, as they range from £100 to £230 a night. Maybe stick to stealing towels. But make sure the staff see you leaving with them. The bar here was a finalist in the Best in Britain competition, so I suggest you straddle it without delay, and try and get the other customers to join in a chorus of ‘Come on Eileen’.

MyHotel, 17 Jubilee Street, BN1 1GE

“where Freddie Mercury meets the Maharishi”

Oh yer? Well how about we give it a temporary makeover – Spinal Tap meets Amy Winehouse? Not only will you get to mingle with the elite here, there’s a good chance you can also ruin their exclusive evening. Send the Cumbrian air-dried ham back to the kitchen, insisting it tastes damp. If your slow roast Sussex lamb doesn’t make it to your table in under ten minutes, turn the table over.

 La Fourchette, 104-105 Western Road, BN1 2AA

Peruse the wine list. Insist on sampling the most expensive choices, at £45 a bottle, the Puligny Montrachet 2006 should do nicely. Declare they all taste like Toilet Duck. Produce four cans of premium lager from your bag. See if you can crack one open before being asked to leave.

Browns, 3-4 Duke Street, BN1 1AH

“Browns has a history of investing in interesting and often historic or listed buildings as premises – with striking features such as high ceilings, panoramic windows and wooden floors all providing focal.”

Do try not to piss up against a period feature now won’t you? From 4pm, Wednesday to Sunday, Browns host Martini nights. After a few of these, you and your entourage should have no trouble getting loud and abusive and easily earn yourself a coveted place on the bans list.

The Hussy profiles Toni Pickles

Toni Pickles, the design force behind Brighton-based bespoke dress and corset designer Get Waisted, takes pride in initiating all of her ideas from scratch and working closely with her client transforming them into a modern day Cinderella.  

Busy Toni is in the middle of producing her first catwalk show for Brighton Frocks fashion weekend kicking off on the 22^nd of May with the Theatrical catwalk show at The Hilton Hotel on Brighton seafront.

This year, I’ll be wearing some of Toni’s beautiful dresses in the show which I have to say happened entirely by accident. My friend was auditioning for Brighton Frocks for fun so I went along for a glass of wine and somehow I managed to get embroiled in the entire event. Trust me I’m not complaining, after all it’s a rare occasion that I get to wear a gorgeous full length gown anywhere = hell, maybe I should start?

 So far this month, I’ve been to a fair amount of rehearsals and dress fittings for the show and although I’m very excited to be taking part, there is also the constant thought in the back of my head that I may well fall over, nose dive into the crowd or walk the length of the catwalk with my skirt tucked into my knickers.

Toni however, is a picture of calm for someone who has so much to do and sew in the next two weeks. So, after my last fitting I asked Toni a few questions to find out what motivates her to work so hard, what keeps her calm under pressure and randomly, what she likes to snack on when she gets a minute or two to relax…..

So Toni tell me……

When did you found ‘Get Waisted’ and what inspired you to do so?

2005 – I have always loved fashion and my first dream job was working on Saville Row. After a long period raising a family and working to pay bills when I moved to Brighton I had the opportunity to rekindle my passion – I think it was being surrounded by the creative passion that typifies Brighton that got me going again.

Tell us about your design background…

I have a fashion and tailoring training rather than a design one. This technical background has stood me in good stead as I have gained experience creating garments for all sorts of people and gaining a practical understanding of what works and what doesn’t.

What is the one thing women want when they come to you for a new frock?

Most people that come to me have a fairly specific idea of what they want. What they all want is something made just for them – which they know will fit, is the right colour and made in the fabric they want. In short there is no need to compromise and they can exercise their right to be an individual. For me, there is no substitute for the look on a new clients face when they try on a new garment for the first time and everything is perfect.

What’s the best thing about taking part in Brighton Frocks this year?

Brighton Frocks goes from strength to strength each year. Now in its’ fifth year it is a perfect vehicle for showcasing the talents of local designers to a wider audience with a professionalism and scale that is hard to match putting on my own shows. With the press, PR and celebrities as well as everyone who is anyone in fashion locally it is just perfect for ‘getting the word out’.

What’s your five-year dream?

I would love to have the opportunity to extend the scope of what I do making my designs and dresses available to a wider audience still. Initially this would be through my own boutique and perhaps eventually extend to a ‘diffusion range’ as well as the one-off items I am currently known for.

What’s your favourite treat? Thai anything – Thom Youm soup in particular

What’s your biggest food sin? M&M’s

Any health vices you’d admit to? – No, my vices are all unhealthy, there’s no point otherwise really is there?

What do you love about your body? Everything (did I mention modesty is a virtue) = actually I do seem to be blessed with good skin

If you could look like someone other than yourself, who would it be? No-one – be comfortable in your own skin

What’s your idea of happiness? Being creative and relaxing in the sun – in Brighton if you are lucky you get to do both at the same time

When are you at your best? Definitely when being creative – designing, sketching and ‘making stuff’

What can’t you live without? Other than said red wine and husband (not saying what order) – it is definitely talking to my family

What are your three desert island essentials? Comb, ‘T – shirt’ and Vaseline (honestly… it is just so useful!)

Describe yourself in three words? Happy, creative, vibrant

To see more from Toni, visit her site www.getwaisted.co.uk  or come along to Brighton Frocks to see her latest collection www.brightonfrocks.com

This is an entry for the Beachdownwriter competition.

To see all of the entries www.thehussy.co.uk/tag/beachdownwriter

Your crumby future – revealed! Brought to you by Septical Peg. If I eat a whole packet of jaffa cakes in one sitting, I can see into the future.

Malted Milk – March 21st to April 19th
You were born near a duck pond. You appear deceptively tasty, but fail to deliver on flavour. Your ideal occupation would be arable based. Avoid Tuesdays.

Marks and Spencer Dark Chocolate Ginger – April 20th to May 20th
90% of people find you bitter and unpleasantly chewy. But what do those sugar junkies know about the real you? To the other 10%, you epitomise class. They’re just not quite sure why. Your destiny is at least semi-detached.

Asda Fruit Shrewsbury with Lemon Drizzle – May 21 to June 21
You have a slight limp. Or you will develop one. Most can afford you, but few deserve you. You have a tendency to get above yourself, but remember, currants are the poor man’s sultanas.

Mint Viscount – June 22nd to July 22nd
A noble sign, not reflected in your tendency to melt under pressure and stick to the pallet. Be sure people do not mistake your peppermint interior for false prophecy. You should work with fabric.

Tunnocks Wafer – July 23 to August 22nd
People are irresistibly drawn to your cheerful, Christmas themed exterior, despite the fact you contain nothing but crappy old wafer. Take advantage of that. You probably only cost about 10p to produce, but you taste at least 25. Always wear socks on the weekend.

Tesco’s Finest Soft Eating Orange and Cranberry Cookies – August 23rd to September 22nd
You lure the innocent with promises of fruit, and then destroy their dentures. Nice work. Avoid tartan, it will do little for you.

Dean’s Scottish Preserve Shortbread – September 23rd to October 22nd
Your childhood was cold. As are your loins. But your buttery goodness will outlast all others. Tread carefully over large holes.

Lyons Fruit Snap Jacks – October 23rd to November 21st
As your title suggests, you’re a little too zingy for the average Joe. Your future is in the leather industry. Always use a coaster.

Morning Coffee – November 22nd to December 21st
Your ideal day would involve being immersed in warm liquid and nibbled at, over a discussion on fallopian tubes, and Margaret’s wayward teenage son who vandalised Cynthia’s tulips.

Fox’s Sprinkle Crinkle Crunch – December 22nd to January 19th
Don’t let others tread you into the carpet.

Sainsbury’s Lemon Thin – January 20th to February 18th
Never accept lifts from strangers. You are far too feeble to fight off their unwanted advances. Your hair lacks body and volume, try blowdrying it upside down.

Weston’s Wagon Wheels – February 19th to March 20th
You were mauled by a large dog (or a small bear) at an early age. But that’s your own fault for being so damned tasty. You are irrepressible, unstoppable, and impossible to dislodge from expensive fabric.

Let’s not get into why the job search has begun again for the 100^th time let’s see why it has become harder. So, after re-locating to Cardiff and joining hundreds of agencies

I resort to looking for a cleaning job, but alas, even the duster needs a levels now.

The phone rings and someone from an agency who actually wants to earn commission asks if I am still looking for work. Excitement, this is it, a job! Telephone fluff out of the way, next stage interview. My five-year-old New Look office gear grins proudly as I hook up with accessories. Do I remove the facial piercings, nope old conscience is fed up of this question and giving the same reply that always wins, I want you to see who I am but I can remove them if it is a problem. Shrug inside bullshit who would work for a firm that is not innovative!

As usual on interview day I leave in plenty of time only to find the train is delayed, not by the usual ten minutes but by half an hour. Keeping calm I pace the platform and as it is interview day I stick my neck out, hide behind the loos and have a fag.

The don’t care attitude walks tall inside as I take my seat. Recalling the directions

I play over and over in my head at the same time answering the age old interview questions of  ” what makes a good team player and give me an example of a time when………” When what, I wiped my bum and still needed to go….. or when I really wanted to tell the moaning git on the end of the phone to fluff off! But it is amazing how the brain can flash one thing that could have you thrown out while loyal gob secures a smile. Clever us, I wonder if bosses do the same in mastermind chair.

Enough waffle, I pay the train fare I can’t afford, hoping the job buy’s my packaging

and pays me back. Everyone looking at me as though they know it is interview day, my clothes are being scrutinised. I look and god yes I have a hair. Some stitching has come undone, I look up and faces around me have their smirk. Bastards, people are so cruel on interview day. I wipe their smirks away by not even entertaining wiping off the hair. Hey I don’t care attitude we are nearly there. Announcement, the train has stopped in between stations and should’nt be too long. Bollocks, some one has thrown themself on the line at this fluffing hour. Wonder where they worked perhaps their Is an opening……..

The doors open, I leave the train and when well out of sight, wipe the hair off.

Now then, there is the car park, hang on there is one on the other side, crap another one at the top of the road, ok, ok don’t panic, look for Gregg’s, ohhhhh… ten of them.

Aha there it is St Mary’ s street, brilliant, its 8 miles long!

” Excuse me can you tell me where Supercallousfragillistic House is please.”

Remember it is interview day, I ask the only welsh speaking person in Cardiff.

  It starts to rain, I don’t have a light for my fag and my stomach starts to tell me it is going to talk loudly during role-play. Yet, I feel hopelessly optimistic.

Walking into the office building I tell the security man I am here for an interview. Without looking up he hands me a pen and says, ” Fill this in”

 The walk round the building badge, I love it.

 Name.. Maddona.. Car 2009 Porshe, time of arrival, 12:00 p.m…….  yesterday.

 Handing it back of course without looking, he clips it into a plastic wallet and gives me proud possession. Take a seat he says in his best-practised morose voice.

Aha I bet his brain is back to the police days and he wants to shout, ” Cover me I’m

going in ” I smile back at him with that kind of made of the same salt look. He stares

beyond time itself, picks up the phone and puts his head down. Oh my god he is telling Doris interviewer there is a dick at reception waiting to see her.

Doris arrives and takes me to my death. The lift of forever travelling with uncomfortable chat that somehow always trips you up and you spend the whole interview telling her in your mind what you really meant but you were a bit nervous

and she says not to worry she understood and you say ………..oh god!

She walks you through the office where everyone looks up, those that look the longest

you know are going to be the ones to reckon with, except of course for the pretty face. She smiles, perhaps she just farted too! If it were not for mime I would have felt frogmarched into the interview room only to find……… 30 others waiting.

Needling out the possibles, the ( they’ ll get it’ s) and the (don’t know why I bothered) gives me a fair summarization of chance.

Doris enters and asks everyone to sit, so we sit. Doris asks everyone to write name and agency on a bit of card, so we do. One spells the agency wrong, ha ha, down to 29. Everyone’s eyes flickering at each other then to Doris.

” Does anyone know anything about the company and what we do ”

Don’t be first and seem cocky, though in a sales role that is what is required! After a pause in the eye flickering Blah blah blah and I believe 150.000 sales revenue last year………….. Doris is not impressed, 31 people around the table and she takes lead in the séance stare. She retains the ghost inside and verbalizes a big…

“Actually it was 300.000 million ”

That’s me gone, do I leave now or stay with dignity

Another voice pipes up ” On the website it says 150.000 ”

Doris ” Oh, I thought you meant turnover, now we will begin the role play. You are a jury and…………

Well, that is me and the other guy out. Hmmm, giving up sometimes works, but do I  really want to work with Hitler. An hour and a half of debating on whether some guy should get life for the murder of his wife who had an affair with his brother and died when he shoved her. This is real life fluffing role-play. I ve just done all this in an hours journey to the job. No face-to-face interviews anymore. Gone are the days when you had the chance to hide your unpolished shoes under the table. Gone the days where you and interviewer met eye to eye and you thought they could see the numbskull in your brain sweating and covering the words  “big hairy bullshit”

You utter the words “sorry, I have just gone mindblank” but are allowed to relax

As a nice smile and voice spells back ” its okay, everyone is a little nervous at an interview” Great company, good boss, but alas Doris is really thinking, next!

 The jury is concluded and we will be informed of whether we have the job later. I leave the building and sit on the steps outside, taking off the bloody heels and putting on my buddy boots.  Meeting in the pub to tell how it went only to get the call that says …unfortunately you were not successful this time. For god s sake was I supposed to send the defendant to the gas chamber?  Well, all eyes on me, how did you do, it was a hung jury I say. Everyone nods and says yeh, I’ve had interviews like that. All secretly thinking you re crap! Ah well, it s only rejection at least I m playing the game. 

Wake up next morning, kettle on.

So, I register on the net for a telesales role in Brighton. 30 second’s later I receive 15 e mails of field base roles from Cardiff to Penzance. Register on 12 more sites, to find I have sent off the C.V of a morgue attendant that somehow found it s way to my computer by what I can only think of  scamming my wireless broadband.

 Agency rings ” Are you still looking for work ”

 Excitement, this is it, a job. Clothes out of dirty laundry bag………Today could be the day, I don’t meet Doris I meet Brendan, he wants to talk personally and find out who I am. I can do the truth submerging with bullshit routine. I can fluff on my nerves

and be excused. I can get over cocky and be respected.. I can get to the have you any questions bit and have mind blanks. Alas, Brendan liked me but the other 40 people in front were stronger candidates. Blow Cardiff and rugby, I head to wonderful Brighton

The land of creativity. I want to write, but I need to pay for my fix with a fluffing job.

The phone rings, interview, role-play, 12 people, but real people. We do Dragons Den

Inno fluffing vation! No more juries, business skills.

Working out my calculations of profit and loss, of email marketing, I am offered a fluffing job! Yah get me. Back in the rat race, piercings and all.

There is hope for all us fluffers!

Written by Lesley Thompson

This is an entry for the Beachdownwriter competition, see al of the entries here

Ever fancied appearing in your very own episode of Footballer’s Wives? No? Then at all costs, never allow inebriation to get the better of you and propel you through the doors of Oceana. Although you won’t get in if you’re wearing trainers.

However, if you like to show off your wares in laminated gold hotpants, twirl you hair extensions round your fake fingernails and have your lipstick tattooed on. Or you buy your smart shirts from Burtons and have your mum iron them whilst you have a pre-going out, pre-drink, drink and spray some Lynx Africa down your trousers. If you enjoy music that features the same three words repeated over and over and over, and at times resembles the monotonous buzz of an electric toothbrush. Then this place will put the schizzzle in your nizzle, and you may well meet your very own footballer, and who knows, become his wife?

Seven themed rooms – experience the world in one night! The Deep Bar is where the adventure begins, think the lost city of Atlanta with a Posh Spice makeover. Hold on to your cut-price drinks though guys, we’ve only just begun.

Villa Tahiti is the next stop. If you’ve checked your coat, you might want to borrow somebody elses. It’s surprisingly chilly in this tropical saloon. Probably because the ‘excellent smoking facilities’ are located to the rear. A penned off area on the King’s Road. The wind chill factor out there would finish off a yeti.

Then why not gather ye bunions, slip your heels back on and totter down to the New York Disco? Or lads, if you’re not quite drunk enough to start strutting your stuff, how about a beer or 16 in the Monte Carlo? Do try and take in the classic art deco, if you’re still capable of focusing.

Met somebody special? Suggest you take a seat in the Parisian Boudoir. The music is ‘french and funky’, that oughta get things going.

If you are unsuccessful in your efforts to secure some sexy time, head to the Reykjavik Icehouse and get that groin a thrustin’ to the booming R&B. Or retreat to the Aspen Ski Lodge and have a good sulk and another 16 beers on a lovely plush sofa. Be careful not to stick to it.

So there we have it. Phew, the world in one night and all for the price of a curry. Just don’t wear trainers. Or leave your drink un-attended.

Oceana, Kingswest, Brighton BN1 2RE

When the sun comes out in Brighton, a certain buzz fills the air. The beach volley ball courts fill up, the live reggae music starts playing and people start wearing a great deal less.

After sitting in the sunshine for awhile on Sunday, drinking my ice-cold Bulmers, I couldn’t help but notice that a few of of us have gone a little bit… well, soft and pale over the winter months – including myself, I need to tone up again. I’ve admittedly been very lazy and have possibly consumed my own body weight in red wine many times over during the cold dark days, and I feel sluggish.

It has happened to us all, we overindulge during the winter and put on a few pounds that we vow to shed before it’s summertime, but in reality it’s so much more fun to go and sit outside a pub and drink in the sun, than put your running shoes on and head down to the gym even though you know it’s good for you and there’s the motivation of plenty of eye candy.

According to a new ‘Waist Lines’ report into the dieting behaviour of British adults I’ve been reading, a desire to feel more attractive on the beach was one of the most common triggers for weight loss action, followed by seeing an unflattering holiday photo of yourself. Hmmn, sounds all too familiar.

I guess many of us set unrealistic goals when it comes to weight loss and toning up, which is why, according to this particular survey, over half of us gave up on our last diet within the first month.

Consultant psychologist to the stars, Dr Doolittle says: “Starting a new healthy eating and lifestyle regime is one of the biggest gifts we can give to ourselves. However, although most of us have a huge desire to suceed, we can find ourselves lacking in motivation and despite the benefits we know we will get from looking and feeling our best, many of us soon ‘fall off the diet wagon’. A shocking 25 per cent of people would even be willing to go under the knife to get rid of their extra pounds simply because they set unrealistic goals.”

Yes Dr Doolittle, I wholeheartedly agree.

Dr Doolittle’s room 101 for diet wreckers

So, as a single gal wanting to look as hot as I possibly can in my bikini this summer, when I read that a quarter of people admitted they had given up on their new fitness regime within a week or even on the very same day, I went and had a quick chat with Dr Doolittle who gave me some top tips on how we can all get in the mind-set to shape up our beach bodies and get a bit healthier for summer without the stress or the surgeon’s knife.

1. The Credit Crunch Blues

Dr Doolittle say’s: Banish BOREDOM to Diet Room 101: When the purse pennies have dried up it’s really tempting to stay in and comfort eat your way through the evenings.  Boredom is often the no.1  diet wrecker, so to combat this, start a new regular social activity such as starting up a new social sport like volley ball or windsurfing or joining a gym to keep your mind occupied and off snacking in front of the TV.

2. The Quick Fix Fib

Dr Doolittle say’s: Banish FAD DIETS to Diet Room 101:   It’s all too easy to jump on the latest fad diet that guarantees you can drop a dress size within hours. However, cutting out important food groups and sticking to regimented food plans can just leave you feeling deprived and craving bad fats and sugars. Instead kick start a well rounded healthy eating plan which you are more likely to stick to that incorporates a little of what you love as a treat.

3. Friends With Fast Metabolisms

Dr Doolittle say’s: Banish METABOLISM ENVY to Diet Room 101: Having friends or partners that can naturally eat what they want and burn it off straight away can be frustrating and can lead you straight back to the cookie jar. Find a friend that has the same weight loss goals as you and sign up to an activity together. Going together will not only be more fun but will remove the temptation to find an excuse to blame your own metabolism for when the pounds creep up.

4. The Work/ Life Imbalance

Dr Doolittle say’s: Banish OFFICE GOODIES to Diet Room 101: When stressed at work it’s all too easy to graze on chocolates and biscuits that people bring in and promise yourself that the diet will start tomorrow. Instead, stock up on satsumas and tasty crudites and dips.  Exercise-wise, instead of having no routine, plan your physical activity for the week around work hours which will motivate you to stick to your new regime and eat more healthily too.

5. The Motivation Messers

Dr Doolittle say’s: Banish the MOTIVATION MESSERS to Diet Room 101:  Snidy comments about our weight from boyfriends, girlfriends, or even friends and families can really take the motivation out of your new regime. Try instead to see it as a new excuse to look hotter than ever then reward yourself. Plan a really special treat for when you reach your ultimate goal e.g. new outfit or pair of shoes.

Off I trot then to get energentic at Fitness First tonight with a friend, I believe it’s Latin dance class this evening…. If Dr Doolittle’s advice is right, I’ll be looking hot on the beach before you can say ‘salsa’.

Written by Sarah L Sharp

This is an entry for the Beachdownwriter competition, all of the other entries can be seen here

Toe find out about the festival www.beachdownfestival.com

When my dad found out I was moving to Brighton, he launched an insistent campaign to get me to reconsider. He suggested Worthing, or at a push, Shoreham. Naturally, I ignored him.

 When the deed was done, and my boyfriend of the time and I were firmly ensconced in our first city pad (above a chip shop, oh the glamour) Dad decided to confirm his suspicions and pay us a visit. We planned an evening of gentle, non-threatening activities to ease him onto the scene, a quick drink, a nice meal. Nevertheless, he didn’t take too kindly to the Brighton night life.

Getting ID’d at the first pub didn’t help. Then he sat in the corner clutching his pint and staring at all the people with funny hats and purple hair. For some reason, he found it all a bit un-nerving.

He calmed down a bit when we got to the restaurant. Until that is, my brother spotted two women straddling each other in a parked car just outside the window, and gave us a running commentary of their every action throughout the main course. ‘She’s got her hand down her top now’; ‘the blonde one’s sticking her tongue in the other one’s ear now’.

It was a beautiful family moment, as we sat watching the impromptu floor show over the Thai green curry. My dad was in bed by half past ten that night, with a nice cup of chamomile tea and some rather interesting memories.

Despite my continued efforts to convince him that this town isn’t all about iniquity, vice and dingy streets splattered with vomit, Dad remains firmly convinced that no good can come of living here. He doesn’t quite seem to grasp that informal street theatre, subversive fashion statements, dimly lit venues and breezy freedom are why most people move here.  Not to drop out of society and prematurely end their days shooting up in a bin.

However, if you know somebody of a similar opinion, it’s always a bit of a laugh to take them for a walk on the wild and weird side. Somewhere they are guaranteed to find strange, and probably offensive. Just to see their face. These are a few locations where alternative living, Brighton style, can be observed in all its skewed glory.  

Punktured, 35 Gardner Street, BN1 1UN

Dermal punching, scarification – I don’t know what these procedures entail, or how the end result will look, but the staff at Punktured sure as heck do. They will pierce anything you care to place on the slab. Hence the name, I suppose. Body art is oft misunderstood, so you can hang around outside and watch the freshly punctured customers leave with expressions of satisfaction, or if you’re feeling adventurous, prove your point by having something pierced yourself. 

Tickled, 15 Gardner Street, BN1 1UP

At first glance, this shop looks like the sort of gaff to pick up a slightly cheeky gift. A few friendly looking vibrators peer coquettishly from the shelves, but they are very tastefully packaged. There’s some lovely bath stuff, a range of naughty fridge magnets….venture down to the lower floor however, and your eyes will be straining to take in a huge range of sex toys and accessories, to suit every possibly orifice. A lot less gaudy but definitely more specialised than Ann Summers, and plenty for the daring to get to grips with, and the not-so daring to get the giggles over.

Dragon’s Gate, 13 St James’s St, BN2 1RE

Officially classed as a new age and ethnic store, this is a haven for pagans, witches, warlocks and anybody else who likes to dabble with the mysterious. Shrouded in incense and mystical gloom, it sells ornaments, robes, herbs, text books – I wouldn’t be surprised to see a jar of poisoned dragon’s liver on the counter. You can reach out and touch the occult here. But you might want to wear gloves.

The Marketplace, 7-8 Meeting House Lane, BN1 1HB

‘Drugs paraphernalia step right up and get yer lovely drugs paraphernalia…’ Aimed at students, staffed by people who look like they certainly know what they are taking, sorry, talking about, The Marketplace wouldn’t be entirely out of place in a scene from Harry Potter. Once Harry has turned 18, obviously. It stocks a vast and almost magical range of everything you could possibly need to, well, you know, do your thing.

The Zone, 33 St James’s St, BN2 1RF

Much like live comedy, it’s best to sit at the back when watching a drag queen perform. Anybody within ten feet of the stage tends to become a target. Unfortunately, The Zone is just a bit too small to escape the attention, so best come prepared, and fortify yourself with a few drinks before the act begins. These ladies are here to perform, and probably force some unfortunate audience members to do the same. Cabaret, karaoke and general crudeness, straight up (sort of).

 So there I was, with the tickets

Grace Jones, The Fridge, Oct 6^th 1996

Sometime,  a few days before the concert …

Friends kitchen ,”what if I was spotted in the crowd , then back to the hotel , only to be driven home next morning in a limo!

God yes, it was going to happen, I could visualize , feel it in my waters. I could almost see  ” my god it will happen “  in girly friends face.  Was it my excitement and passion that stirred up belief or a premonition determined to prove science wrong. Ha, I did’ nt care , it was going to happen.

 So below is a list of true events. The characters are real, the places are real, the times are fictitious,  (hey I was pissed and it was thirteen years ago !)

Oct 6^th 1996

7:30 p.m

 Set off to The Fridge Nightclub, Brixton, London.

Driver Ex partner .

Passengers : Myself and friend Carol

8:30 p.m

Arrive Brixton .

 Carol and I go to some random pub, ex drives back home to pick us up later. Yay

9:00 p.m

Enter Fridge.

 Go to bar, make a few eye contacts, Carol remains stiff but amused ( she is not gay ) Make way to dance floor, burn off excitement and slurry pissed focus.

9;30 p.m

Crowd gather’s around stage.

Carol,  head for the front. Only to be told by some big chappy we wont get there….. watch me ! Front of  stage. Pissed off police ,you know the one’s owners of front row  shove’ n push with glares. Climb on to front of stage taking a crossed leg seat, with of course Carol and her smirk.

Sometime around 9:30 ish

Lights dim, background music , pull up to the bumper baby . s Grace  arrives already asking the crowd for a reefa. Quickly handed one she says ” my grandmother would be proud ” Puffs , slurs back some red wine, throws the glass and bursts into song.

Walking up and down the stage , looking like god herself, she spy s Carol and flicks

her tongue in and out. Bastard, what did I buy her a ticket for! Carol with her smirk, did you see that, ok Ill give it her, I did.

Sometime after about 3 record 

Grace moves to the back of the stage to merge with the black of the dark set. She cannot be seen, we hear only her voice. All quite,

 ” Scorpio ” I shout.

” No, but my moon is in scorpio, tell me, what does that mean”

Oh my god, she heard me, she replied, god give me a grandma thing. Carol poked me

but my eyes were fixated . Grace s lips coiled around the microphone booming My Jamaican guy. Yep, half way through she asked for another reefer . The crowd roared,

dunno if the smell of it worked them up into frenzy or our Grace , looks body and rebel ,rebel , rebel was hyping up the entertainment factor. Whatever, glass in hand, wine spilling to stage floor, eyes rolling she falls backwards with song. Two dancers bow underneath her and lift her up above their heads ,to be carried off midair behind the stage.

This was it, I was taking my chance. Legs in cohoots with mind I ran behind the stage. The two dancers looked behind them , eyes fixed on my intention. Grace , head upside downstill held up in midair ,eyes shut. I was bold, my moment ,

 ” Grace ” I blurted out. Eyes opening, big smile, fuck it my lips somehow found myself on hers. Oooer, she responded. “Fuck it ” I said and leaned back down to her, still being held upside down by the dancers.

 Bang our lips……. Oh my god she kissed me back…. responce .

Two bouncers hurtled towards me, legs running back to the stage, eyes still fixed on Grace, smiling. Cheers from the crowd at my bravery!

Crossed leg back on the floor, oh my god was I going to be kicked out. Nope.

Again the stage was completely black. A voice from the back of it booms,

” The girl who just ran behind the stage and kissed me, where are you now… ”

Crowd cheering, Carol, ” go on she is calling you “ 

No bloody way, she does kick boxing and she may have thought about it

Grace again ” The girl who just ran behind the stage and kissed me , where are you now” ………What do you do…… I           was too scared

” I bet you don’t even remember my name ” walks onto the stage with slave to the rhythm. Stands right in front of me. Had I missed my chance!

Piercing eyes out across the wave of song. Glass again in hand, starting to strip she asks someone to help take her bra off. My god my legs that night were winged mercury. Once more up on stage standing behind her, placing hands over straps

I cannot lift it off. Fuck it again, cor I could say that all night.

Grace fans and clubbers alike roared. One swoop, problems getting over the wine glass, eye to eye contact again, smiles and it was off!

Holding the catch in my hand I swirled it around in circles to the joy of the giggers.

Grace carried on, once again my Jamaican guy. She no longer recognised me. Either being her professional self and the show must go on or reefa wine claimed its own song. Regardless, the music was phenomenal, the voice as though it was a recording  the atmosphere transcendental. No holds barred at this concert. Lights flickering, crowd pushing , swaying and singing along in harmony. Smiles and electro flickering eyes. Grace had cracked the crowd.

End of the night and Grace took her bows to hand claps, whistles and foot stomps for more. Finally she left the stage, the crowd still roared. Carol said they were cheering me to put the bra on! No !…yep,   no…O FLUFFING K.

Top off, bra on. The crowd roared, again Grace had left a legacy.

11:05

Walking out of the fridge, some fans staying to finish the party, others walking and talking about the fantastic evening. I looked back at the front doors . How close was I to being taken home in her limo. Who knows. I had seen her live, I had her bra but…

 I bet she did’nt even remember my name !

Written by Lesley Thompson

This is an entry for the competition to win a press pass to the Beachdown Festival

All of the entries can be seen here

 The writer whose work receives the most visits will win the ticket.

‘cos no-one’s gonna stare…

As we all know, the British don’t like to make eye contact with strangers or sit next to them on trains. Unless of course, they’ve consumed a frothing vat of alcohol, in which case they will hug, kiss, lick, dry hump or assault anybody that happens to enter their blurry line of vision. Does this suggest to anybody else that we are a nation starved of affection, that all we really want to do is reach out and touch somebody, but we’re worried we might catch something? Why is it only through numbing our brains and having our faces go a bit wonky that we can gather the courage to express ourselves? To ask for love? And acceptance? And phone numbers?

I’m getting slightly off the point here. What I actually want to talk about is dancing. Dancing like nobody is watching, or if they are, that they are seriously impressed with what they are seeing. We British not only seem to need large quantities of alcohol to ignore our heritage and give in to our hormones, but also to do anything on the dance floor other than avoid it. However, a few BOGOF shots and suddenly everybody is at it. And everybody thinks they are brilliant at it. Marvellous!

But no matter how much cheap booze is consumed, some of us still struggle to perform. You may have guessed, I am one of these chosen few. Unfortunately, most of the clubs I’ve been to play the sort of music that gets the beautiful people onto the floor, wiggling their hotpant-clad rears like baboons on heat. I normally go home and have a Cup-a-Soup at this point in the evening.

If, like me, you find it difficult to have a good time in an establishment where everybody seems to know what they’re doing, rhythmically speaking, and in fact, the whole place reminds you of the set of a music video shoot, and you know that there is no way you’re cool enough to be there, and maybe you should just give it up, go home and have a good cry….WAIT! There is hope. Those who enjoy soullessly pursuing the next big thing, name-dropping and general showing off will probably sneer and keep moving. Balls to them. The clubs listed below are the ones I’ve found that play the kind of music you can dance exactly how you like to. Regardless of how much you might flail your arms, do the twist or just bounce about like a child on a Haribo high.

The Funky Fish, 19-23 Marine Parade, BN2 1TL

They say it themselves – “We’re not bothered about sexy surroundings, flashy lights, toilet attendants, or dress codes, we just want to have a rocking party with the best possible service we can provide to our customers.”

Amen to that. A solid and thoroughly unpretentious mix of soul, funk, jazz and Motown, will strip away your inhibitions and insist you take to the floor. No strobe lights, no shiny surfaces – a space for those who choose substance over style.

Casablanca Jazz Club, 3 Middle Street, BN1 1A

Head downstairs for live bands and fizzing latino, upstairs for jazz, funk, disco and soul. Again, the interior décor really doesn’t matter, as it can never truly compensate for atmosphere. You won’t have to worry about spilling a drink and ruining something plush, I reckon Casablanca last had a re-fit in 1973. A laid-back bunch of people normally congregate on both floors, so feel free to dance like your uncle at a family party. Hey, they might just join you.

Legends Bar & The Basement Club, 31-34 Marine Parade, BN2 1TR

Open till 4 and free entry for all, if that alone doesn’t tempt you, the playlist is stuffed with guilty pop pleasures. Except there is nothing to feel guilty about, you hear me? If you don’t have a handbag to dance around, somebody is sure to lend you theirs.  Pull whatever moves you please, the music demands it.

The Engine Room, 5 Preston Street, BN1 2HX

Stumble down the spiral staircase and immerse yourself in a basement world of alternative tunes. Goth, metal, glam rock – if you like the dark and heavy side then this is where you can mosh it all up without a care in the world. Bring eyeliner. 

Revenge, 32 Old Steine, BN1 1EL

Revenge is one of those places where it doesn’t matter what you’re wearing or who you’re holding hands with. So is anybody really going to give a flying fish how you dance? Stick to level 1 for a rich choice of pop that will have you weeping with nostalgia, or up to level 2 if hardcore house and trance is more your thang. As long as you don’t flinch at the thought of unisex toilets, it’s almost impossible to feel self-conscious here.

Well known for its somewhat colourful and eclectic culture, catalogues of forward thinking boutiques in the North Laines and endless lists of talented, creative designers, the city of Brighton has become established as the epicenter of diverse fashion.

For this very reason, Brighton Frocks annual fashion weekend was born out of a burning desire to celebrate and recognise this city’s extreme sense of style.

Now in its fifth year running, we see our favourite local designers getting ready once more to take part in what can only be described as the South coast fashion fiesta of the year,

Taking place at the Hilton Brighton Metropole on the Friday 22^nd May, the Theatrical Catwalk Show is the hottest Brighton Frocks main event, and this year promises to be the most lavish show to-date.

And as if that wasn’t enough, to finish the weekend in true stylish form and  mark the conclusion of the Fringe festival, Brighton Frocks Fashion Emporium will be opening its doors for keen fashionistas everywhere at the Metropole all day Saturday and Sunday (24^th & 25^th). 

Picture a ‘Fashion Wonderland’ including makeover areas, live models a Red Bull relaxation lounge, The Emporium catwalk show, fashion installations and capping it all off with an after-party that’ll knock your new socks off, and guess what, we’re all invited. 

Interested? Yeah you are… ‘So, who’s who?’ I hear you cry…

Get Waisted

Saville Row-trained bespoke corset and dress maker Toni Pickles, is the founder and inspiration behind Get Waisted http://www.getwaisted.co.uk/index.php?pageid=65 based in Brighton.Toni builds all her creations from scratch and works closely with her clients who keep her inspired.

Get Waisted will be taking part in Brighton Frocks theatrical catwalk show for the first very time this year and it’s all about femininity and curves. 

I am lucky enough to be one of Toni’s selected models for the show so a couple of weeks ago I went along to meet her and have my dress fitting.

After looking at her website, I was half expecting Toni to approach me with a magical wand and some fairy-dust that would transform me from work clothing to ball gown in a matter of seconds – almost.

I was stripped of my office attire, measured with a measuring tape and squeezed into beautiful corsets within an inch of my last breath – crunch those ribs in, push those breasts up, jut those hips out.

All those handmade-layered skirts, all that sumptuous fabric, all those sparkly beads – now, where did I park my horse-drawn carriage? 

Toni Pickles
07947497342 / 01273 779978
toni@getwaisted.co.uk
www.getwaisted.co.uk:

Suzie Turner

Brightonian Suzie Turner trained with a pattern cutter from the age of 15. Specialising in deconstructing antique couture, Suzie took the opportunity to build her made to measure reputation alongside learning her craft.

Using the client as her muse and maintaining the traditional ethos of handmade couture, Suzie fits and cuts patterns personally onsite at her Brighton studio, using her team to assist with the exquisite beadwork and samples of her designs.

Suzie’s clients include everyone from brides to actresses and models such as Kelly Brook. The one thing they all have in common is that they appreciate Suzie’s attention to fine detail.

In her words, Suzie believes that “Making a beautiful garment should be an event to be relished not stressed over.” 

www.suzieturner.co.uk

Joanne Fleming

Situated in Brighton’s North Laines, Joanne Fleming specialises in bespoke bridal and evening gowns for those one off occasions that require an extra bit of sparkle.

Using luxurious and rich fabrics, Joanne creates a veritable melting pot of designs for her clients ranging from those with classical clean lines to those with a show-stopping wow factor.

At Brighton Frocks 2009, Joanne will be previewing her new eveningwear collection ‘Sidonie’, drawing from the demi-monde of 1920s Paris and London.

joanneflemingdesign@yahoo.com
www.joanneflemingdesign.com 

25 Vine St, Brighton
01273 602371

Ailsa & Ailsa

Working without the confines of seasonal trends, Ailsa & Ailsa was founded on the belief that fashion is an art form, to be admired, appreciated and studied.

Inspired by time spent across many, many continents, Ailsa & Ailsa’s artistic vision integrates perfect detailing, unusual textures and vibrant colours.

Using a unique mixture of silks, vintage leather, linens, vintage kimonos and antique crochet, Ailsa reflects her cultural design influences in her collection.

Ailsa & Ailsa creations are specifically crafted for confident individuals who are happy being the centre of attention.

 Ailsa Rollo
ailsa.rollo@hotmail.com

Alan Rowe

Working as an illustrator, designer and stylist for high end magazines and labels across Europe, Alan Rowe is the co-founder and inspiration behind bespoke denim label Epoc, which uses high-grade Japanese denim to create its pieces.

Now, Brighton Frocks 2009 will be showcasing “Eternal Ingénue”, Rowe’s premier collection of Schnitt, day and evening wear.

 ”Eternal Ingénue” draws on references to Victoriana and 1960′s skinhead fashion to create strong, striking and unforgettable visuals.

schnittbyalanrowe@ymail.com

Gresham Blake

A contemporary tailor, Gresham Blake is widely recognised as having an eccentric flare expressed in all his pieces, ranging from vibrantly coloured suit linings, to ties, cravats and get noticed cufflinks.

A celebrity favourite, Gresham Blake’s Brighton and Mayfair fitting room has tailored for the likes of Christian Slater, Fat Boy Slim and Davina McCall. 

30 Bond Street, Brighton
01273 622531
www.greshamblake.com

Jessy.Lou.

Jessica Louise Good is the creative mastermind behind Jessy.Lou, a young and incisive label designed for girly girls.

Jessy Lou’s signature style features quirky, original pieces which are all about being feminine and frivolous.
At Brighton Frocks, Jessy.Lou will be presenting a collection combining playful, novel designs with bold prints including bright florals, polka dots and stripes.

Jessy-louise_design@live.co.uk

Paola Galelli

Paola Galelli’s final graduate collection for 2009 is entitled ‘Shaken and Stirred’.

The all dress collection explores and reinvents the original cocktail gown watching it transform from traditional into the ultimate party dress.

With a colour pallette inspired by the cocktails themselves, expect a menu of flirtatious pieces good enough to eat.

pgalelli@hotmail.co.uk
www.fashionspace.com/PaolaGalelli

Renaissance

Renaissance is all about creating exclusive and bespoke pieces for bridal and special occasions from it’s central Brighton studio.

Strong theatrical influences come through in all the pieces which combine contemparary structure with baroque-inspired beading and heavy draping.

Renaissance have recently appeared in ‘Brides’ magazine, ‘You and Your Wedding’ and on T4′s ‘Frock Me’. 

Kevin@renaissancecreativedesign.com
www.renaissancecreativedesign.com

Sarina Poppy

Costume design graduate Sarina Poppy uses Swarovski crystals, rich silks and pure wools, vintage, reused and recycled fabrics throughout her collection to create a fusion of period costume and edgy fashion. 

Influenced by both art and theatre Sarina Poppy pieces are inspired by induviduality and a non-conformist attitude.

www.myspace.com/sarinapoppy
www.sarinapoppy.co.uk (under construction)
sarinapoppy@yahoo.co.uk

LipopLondon

Now based in London, Brighton bred Tom Lipop is using his showcase at Brighton Frocks to launch his debut Menswear collection, entitled ‘Battle of the Sardines’, inspired by his chaotic London lifestyle.

Tom has a BA Hons in Fashion and Textiles specialising in Menswear, and holds a senior design position at House Of Holland.

www.lipoplondon.com under construction
3-11 westland place studios,
4th floor, London, N1 7LP
tomlipop@hotmail.com

Verity Lamb

Verity Lamb’s ‘Splish Splash’ fun beachwear collection takes 1950′s inspired shapes and douses them in 1980′s geometric print.

All her fun and flirty pieces celebrate the female form, from curvy to slender, bringing a touch of glamour back to traditional swimwear. 

www.splishsplashbeachwear.com
info@splishsplashbeachwear.com
lambchopss@hotmail.co.uk

For more information or to book tickets for Brighton Frocks 2009, please visit: www.brightonfrocks.com

 This is an entry for the Beachdownwriter competition, the entry that receives the most visits will be the winner. See www.thehussy.co.uk/tag/beachdownwriter for all entries.

Written by Sarah L Sharp

It’s inevitable. One minute you two are dawdling over dessert in an intimate restaurant setting, exchanging loving banter over what to call your first cat / car/ child. The next, you’re having to ask the waiter to remove any leftover cutlery from the table, as an idle remark from your partner has filled you with such terrible rage that jamming a fork up their nostril is becoming increasingly tempting.

Arguments are a natural part of the proceedings when two people have strong feelings for each other. So it’s important to choose your venue with care.  You don’t want to get so carried away that you end up with an ASBO and a life-long ban from Pizza Express. However, you also don’t want to have to repress the resentment until you get home. That could lead to heartburn. Similarly, if you only ever kick off behind closed doors, it can result in significant damage to a piece of furniture you really rather like. In addition, for a truly successful argument, you need a few key elements which are difficult to obtain at home:

- Enough space to speak in raised voices without the intimate nature of your discussion being available for everyone else to enjoy.

- Members of the public present at a suitable distance. As long as you are even slightly socially conscious, this can ensure that things don’t get entirely out of control. Bystanders can also be dragged in to mediate, should the need arise.

- Distractions. For those long and terrible silences, which often occur after a particularly cutting remark or outrageous statement. You need something interesting to stare at as you blink back the tears. Curtains don’t really cut it.

Where can you guarantee that all of the above will be available? Well, there is a reason people are always being asked to ‘take it outside’. Brighton and Hove has 98 parks and public open spaces. In any one of these you can sit and squabble, walk and squabble, bang your head against a tree or sulk on a bench.

Hopefully, you will find all you need to make that row a memorable one at the following outdoor venues. Happy harping!

Royal Pavilion Gardens , BN1 1EE

Defuse the tension by ruminating on the splendour of the Pavilion. Or have it cranked up a notch by a toddler stamping through your picnic, this place is very popular with young families, which means you will probably have to keep swearing to a minimum. Use your words.

Rookery Rock Garden, opp. Preston Park, BN1 6HN

A visit in the early evening almost guarantees you privacy – climb right to the top to see across Brighton, and your future as a couple. There is also the option of pushing an unreasonable lover into the ornamental pond.

Queen’s Park, South Avenue, BN2 0BP

There’s a hell of a duck pond located here, where you can either choose to feed the inhabitants, or throw the stale bread at your sparring partner. If your rage cannot be expressed in mere words, you could always thrash it out on one of the four tennis courts.

The Level, Ditchling Road, BN1

Always lots of activity taking place at the Level; juggling, skate boarding, drug dealing. This can provide  that much-needed distraction, when you’ve come to a temporary halt in proceedings, and staring at your feet seems too defeatist.

Stanmer Park, BN1 9QA

Easily accessible thanks to bus 78, which leaves from the Old Steine, you can stamp across 200 hectares of distinctive Sussex countryside. Dramatic and sweeping – perfect for a monumental domestic.

Next week –

the best places in Brighton to feel fat and happy

This is an entry for the Beachdownwriter Competition.

See all of the entries here

For the Festival www.beachdownfestival.com

 Do you remember that scene in Jurassic Park, when fellow scientists Dr Grant and Dr Sattler, lay their disbelieving peepers on a dinosaur for the first time? There’s a reminder to your left if you don’t, or you had the good sense not to see the film.

Grant and Sattler obviously knew that dinosaurs existed at some point. They’ve dedicated their careers to brushing the dust off the evidence. But their overwhelming surprise at being able to cruise past a flock, or a herd, or whatever it is you call a group of dinosaurs (a school, a pride, a gathering?) in a gaudy 4×4, as if this were just a day out at the West Midlands Safari Park, beggars their belief. As you can see by their faces.

Something very similar happens to my face every time I watch a film or TV programme that features characters smoking in enclosed spaces.  Sparking up at the office for example, or on a plane. I obviously knew that the freedom to smoke wherever you damn well pleased existed at some point. But if I were to cruise by in my own gaudy 4×4 and encounter a group of smokers exhaling freely in a public place, well, it would bugger my belief. You’re just not allowed to do that sort of thing these days. It doesn’t seem possible that you ever were.

I never agreed with wantonly blowing smoke wherever I fancied, but an outright ban does seem a little harsh. Although there are some advantages. Because you can’t light up when you like any more, people tend to announce their intention to have for a fag, and wait to see who joins them.  Going for a cigarette has become almost conspiratory, a naughty little adventure to be shared with your equally deviant friends.  If nobody cares to join you, well, it’s a chance to have some time outside to contemplate, pontificate and hopefully miss your round at the bar.

So, with that in mind, I’ve compiled a list of some smoker friendly haunts for when you are out on, and probably tripping over, the tiles in Brighton. These places sure beat hanging around on the pavement, struggling to inhale despite a serious case of smoker’s nipple, brought on by the disapproving winds that seem unique to this city.

The Hop Poles, 13 Middle Street, BN1 1AL

These people seem to be having a good time don’t they? This is no doubt thanks to this dedicated smoking area, which is covered to retain the ample heating. It also boasts audible outdoor music and of course, foliage. A good place for when the pub becomes inevitably over-crowded.

The Hop Poles

The Barley Mow, 92 St George’s Road, BN2 1EE

The smoking area boasts an awning, which is something to celebrate. Not least because you can pretend to be at an Ascot after party, should the fancy take you.

The Office, 8-9 Sydney Street, BN1 4EN

What used to be the yard has been given a splash of paint and some picnic tables. Shabby chic, but I spent a winter’s hour or so hanging out here with some mulled cider and it feels like a proper Brighton joint.

Grand Central, 29 – 30 Surrey Street, BN1 3PA

This roof terrace, with its round wooden tables and generous patio heaters, could lead you believe you were somewhere else entirely more tropical of a weekday night.

The Grand Central

The Royal Sovereign, 66 Preston Street, BN1 2HE

I’m not a huge fan of this pub, but carpets and palm trees line the generous outdoor space, which does mean you can spark up and chill out.

If anybody has any further suggestions about where to consume the evil weed in comfort, please do leave them in the comment box below.

Next week – the best places in Brighton to have an argument with your lover.

This is an entry to win a ticket for the beachdown festival, the winner will be the one that receives the most visitors. So if you like it use the bookmarking links below.

All the entries for this competition can now be seen here

Two to choose from here…

One will make you fat, the other will de-fat you.

To see all of our top choices Follow Me

Foodies festival in Brighton

@ Jubilee Square

16^th, 17th May 10am -6pm

Take the opportunity to see celebrity chef and restaurant owner Aldo Zilli and other top chefs cook their favourite recipes in the chef’s theatre in Jubilee Square – £6 entry and then go and buy the ingredients to make it yourself!

A great excuse to overindulge, fresh local produce will be available from Sussex food and drink producers all day – free entry.

For more info visit: http://www.brightonfestivalfringe.org.uk/

Heroes Run 2009 @ Hove Lawns

17^th May

Organised by local charity Passing It On who raise money to build schools and support education in some of the poorest areas of Africa, Heroes Run is a 5k, 10k or 500m fun run dressed as your favourite Superhero (for the record mine is She-Ra, Princess of Power). 

This year’s Heroes Run (formerly the Superhero Challenge) will be held on Sunday May 17^th. Even if you aren’t joining in with the running part, I recommend you at least come along to watch and cheer along. Trust me it’s quite a spectacle.

As Heroes Run is part of the Brighton Festival this year they are putting it on month later than the norm. However, they’ll also be tying this in with be attempting to set a new Guinness World record for the most Superheroes in one place.

The record attempt will take place on Hove lawns just before the run sets off, be there or be square – and be sure to bring your cape, pants and tights.

For more info visit: www.passingiton.org  and  www.heroesrun.org.uk

@ The Big Top

7^th -19^th May

Various times and prices

 This event is a Hussy pick for the Brighton Fringe.

Incorporating all aspects of Ancient Chinese theatre including the Wu-Shu Warriors, martial arts from the Shoalin Temple and artists from the Peking Opera, this is a world class production. 

With historic background provided by the narration of ‘The Monkey King’, be dazzled by mind-blowing acrobatics, the strong man, contortionists, high-wire acts and balances beyond the realms of possibility which are carried out seamlessly.

Performances from the Peking Opera include lavish costumes, characters, masks and the Flying Daggers, where endless sleeves conceal their terrifying weapons.

A colourful and enchanting production that will make you want to run away with the circus.

For more info visit: www.thechinesestatecircus.eu

This is an entry for the competition to win a ticket to the Beachdown Festival.

The winner will be the one whose writings recieve the most visits.

See all of the entries here

For details of the festival www.beachdownfestival.com

To see all of our top choices Follow Me

‘A poet’s work is never done’ Luke Wright

@ Komedia studio

3rd May 3.30pm -4.30pm

£8 age res 15+

I love contemporary poetry, so since I heard works from Luke Wright, Poet Laureate in the making, explained as ‘Visceral, poignant and funny verse’ The Scotsman, ‘…from the best young performance poet around’ The Observer, my ears have been itching to hear more.

Purchasing hairspray, choosing a belt,
waiting for cheese on toast to melt
and daytime TV doesn’t watch itself.
A poet’s work is never done.

An Edinburgh Fringe Festival favourite, A Poet’s Work is Never Done is Wright’s most popular show to date and offers us light-hearted and contemporary verse.

Wright has also received 4 and 5 star reviews from The Herald, Time Out and The Metro and is the most recent poet-in-residence on BBC Radio 4′s Saturday Live.

For more info visit: http://www.brightonfestivalfringe.org.uk/

The winner will be the one whose writings recieve the most visits.

Candlelit Classics: Karl Jenkins requiem

@ St Bartholomew’s church

16th May 8pm-10pm

£13

This event is a Hussy pick for the Brighton Fringe.

To see all of our top choices Follow Me 

Away from the busy hubbub of Brighton, awe-inspiring Nineteenth century cathedral St Bartholomew’s is the perfect setting for this classical event with its heady mixture of incense and soft lighting.

Requiem, released in 2005 by Welsh composer Karl Jenkins, topped the UK classical charts within a month of its release. Featured on the Classical Brits and Classic FM, Jenkins’ moving work has been called “…the ultimate in post-modern Requiems…” by Music Week magazine.  

In his unusual work, Jenkins combines Japanese death poems with traditional Latin text encountered in a Requiem Mass.

It’s time to get in touch with your classical side, let Jenkins’ masterpiece wash over you for the evening whilst bathed in the magic of candlelight.

For more info visit: www.brightonfestivalfringe.org.uk/

This is an entry for the competition to win a ticket to the Beachdown Festival.

The winner will be the one whose writings recieve the most visits.

See all of the entries here

For details of the festival www.beachdownfestival.com

Street Funk presents:  ‘The fringe battle’

@ The Brunswick

23rd May 1pm-5pm

£5

A real, live, dance off featuring 3 on 3 breakdance battles with some of the best crews in the UK? I’m not missing this. 

The battle is hosted by JP Omari, a professional Hip Hop dancer, teacher and choreographer specialising in Streetdance and Breakdance.

JP is the Artistic Director of the Streetfunk breakdance crew performing at ‘the fringe battle’. JP’s work also includes Urban Strides and the Urban Playground – a work of parkour-inspired theatre and dance = he has also performed for Dizzee Rascal and Sean Paul.

For an afternoon of achingly cool Hip Hop beats and breathtaking dance moves, grab your trainers and be prepared to get your funk on.

For more info visit www.streetfunk.co.uk

Animal Nights @ The Brunswick

5^th, 6th, 13^th May

8pm-11pm

£10 age res 12+

 This event is a Hussy pick for the Brighton Fringe.

To see all of our top choices Follow Me

Animal Nights at intimate 1930′s built music and arts venue The Brunswick, promises to deliver a magical mix of film, theatre, comedy and music from founding members of Artists Project Earth, who produced sell-out tour ‘Tape’.

APE comprises of artists, journalists, film makers and authors who together raise awareness on all aspects of climate change and funds for disaster relief through music and the Arts. Their projects are supported by various musicians such as U2, Coldplay, Radiohead and The Kooks to name but a few.

On for three nights only here at the Fringe, artists that will be taking part in the evening include personal favourites of mine, television’s James Lance of Teacher’s and Book Group fame and actor Lee Ross who has had numerous appearances on The Catherine Tate Show, Hustle and Life on Mars.

For more info visit: www.thebrunswickpub.co.uk

This is an entry for the competition to win a ticket to the Beachdown Festival.

The winner will be the one whose writings recieve the most visits.

See all of the entries here

For details of the festival www.beachdownfestival.com

8:00am

I wake up to the delightful suicide provoking melody of Take That’s Shine, an eclectic tune that I originally believed would inspire me to get up in the mornings. It doesn’t.  Instead I seek comfort and understanding in what every student would consider their best friend – the snooze button. Fuck drugs and alcohol, this is a temptation that no student can resist, a glimmer of hope in the morning surely put there by the devil himself. Whoever invented it is either an idiot or a legend. I’ll leave it to you to decide. Anyway, back to sleep for me!

11.17am

Shit. I missed my 9 o clock lecture. I am quickly distracted from this thought at the realisation that my mouth tastes like a badgers arse. Rehydration needed immediately. I stumble from my bed to the bathroom feeling the last few tequilas I had last night do a gymnastics lesson in my stomach. I swivel our lime scaled tap excited for the cold delight of water I’m about to engulf. Oh yes, I forgot, they cut the water off yesterday.

 When applying for university there really should be some small print about all the adult shit you have to deal with at uni such as paying bills. You never see the lads in American Pie having to worry about whether EDF have raped them of £20 a month. No it’s all just red plastic cups and sunny beach parties for them.

11.20am

Last night’s tequila is taking a well earned swim in my toilet after it’s full on work out in my stomach. I promise myself I will never destroy my body in this way again.

11.42am

I clean myself to the best of my shaken ability with Johnson’s baby wipes. Unfortunately my mum bought me unscented ones so the smell of stale beer and cigarettes will be with me for the duration of the day. I pull on a pair of jeans and a vest top, and make my way to the kitchen on a desperate voyage to stop my tongue from permanently attaching itself to the roof of my mouth. Someone somewhere must have some fluids. I open the fridge, nothing but milk, just my luck. Well here goes nothing.

11.45am

Milk was the worst idea of my life. My mouth now feels like it has a thick coating of yoghurt inside it. I’m not a fan of yoghurt at the best of times. Anything that is supposed to curdle is not Ok by me.  Feeling the huge emptiness in my stomach where the tequila used to be, I decide food is the answer. I go to my cupboard, unlike myself most students keep locks on their cupboards, I don’t bother as I am fully aware I have nothing worth stealing.

 Yummy my favourite, Asda smart price bread with a delicious side order of mould. I am not fazed as this can be easily fixed. I grab a knife out of our super noodle filled sink, give it a quick wipe on a burnt tea towel and start work on my masterpiece. I believe I have become quite skilled at the art of mould removal.

Perfect, nothing like some hexagon shaped toast in the morning, after having had to cut most of it away due to an infestation of what I can only describe as green dust. Toast alone though is very bland, I’m on a mission for a delicacy, or at least something digestible. Slick as a snake I creep over to my housemates cupboard desperately trying to avoid making eye contact with the sign she’s made saying “Stop stealing my food, I will catch you”. I grab a spoonful of her Jam and put the jar back as if it had never left its home. No one would miss a bit of jam surely.

11.47am

Jeremy Kyle

12.19pm

Back upstairs I go.

For some reason I pick this moment to look in the mirror. Something I quickly regret noticing the huge whitehead on my forehead. Pop it, leave it, pop it, leave it…I can’t decide. I go with pop, which then leads to drawing blood which leads to more Johnson’s baby wipes. Epic fail. My dehydration is still causing me huge distress so I begin the long search of pockets in the hope of finding loose change.

12.32pm

A pound. Something is finally going right today. I roll myself a fag from the bacci someone left in my room a few weeks ago. It’s dry as hell but will have to do until I find my bank card. Being a performance student I’m supposed to avoid such appalling habits as smoking as my voice is my “tool”. In my opinion the lecturer who tells me that is a “tool” himself so just as I ignore him I ignore his advice. Right off to the shop then into uni for 1 o clock. I have to think of some lame excuse of why I missed this morning, which isn’t that I was off my tits last night and couldn’t even remember my own name when I woke up let alone where I was supposed to be.

1.04pm

I’m late. And because of this 4 minute deficiency in my time keeping my teacher feels the need to express as theatrically as he can how I need to show real commitment to the course so I can “shine like a true star”. Shine, I reminisce of my alarm this morning, which leads me to think of my bed. God I want my bed!

1.34pm

I’m laying on the floor pretending to be a foetus.  Why oh why did I pick this course. So many conversations about feelings and emotions. Makes you want to put a bullet through your brain. What depresses me even more than this is the amount of people on my course that eat up this shit. Am I the abnormal one for hating it? Possibly. It’s just us cynical few who stand strong, I say stand strong, we stand at the back and snigger at what the teacher has to say.

2.52pm

We’re sitting in circles of trust describing our fears and hopes of the future. I would rather go through the whole milk situation again than do another minute of this.

3.28pm

I am reminded of a deadline that we have today for an essay about European modernity. European what? This is not good. I have until 4.30.

3.32pm

I am running to the library.

3.40pm

I made it to the library.

3.42pm

I am logged on to the godsend that is Wikipedia.

4.17pm

Copy, paste, re-word, Done! 159 words short but it’ll have to do. How did I forget this? My dad’s right. I need to buy a diary.

4.26pm

I’m in the queue at the hatch to submit work. 3 more people to go then me. Come on, Come on we’ve only got 4 minutes.

4.31pm

Hatch closed and I still have my essay in my hand. The lady behind the counter just smiles smugly at me, grey haired ugly bitch. That’s 10% off my mark. To be honest I’m not sure it was even worth 10%. Maybe I’ll tweak it a bit tomorrow.

5.00pm

I’m back home having tea with my housemates. Tea and Biscuits is a huge ritual in our house along with making our way through the friends box set for the 8^th time this year. We need some new DVD’s. I don’t know how to describe my house except for student AKA dirty. No matter how much we clean it, it never looks good. We’ve been thinking of applying to D.I.Y SOS or whatever programmes it is that change your life these days.

7.10pm

Wahoo! Water is back on. My housemate’s dad kicked up a fuss. Yep we may be adults in the eyes of the law, but we still run to the parental’s when we need to make an angry phone call. I can’t wait for the day when I feel  grown up enough to make that phone call myself without getting scared.

8.20pm

I’m sitting in the lounge playing Ring of Fire with the rest of the Wednesday night bunch.  I always get hammered in this game. I think it’s the no swearing rule that gets me every time. Everyone’s smiling fully aware of all the camera’s going off in aid of the albums that just must be created tomorrow on facebook.

10.15pm

I’m shouting university chants along with the rest of my croonies whilst in line to get into the club. Classics such as “Soulja Boi” are protruding through the walls only quickly to be followed by the likes of Cyndi Lauper. Brilliant. I can taste in the air it’s going to be a good night.

11.45pm

I’ve run out of money. Time to Minesweep, a tradition passed down from student to student. In other words – tactfully robbing people of their drinks without getting caught. Spiffing. The time where I can actually afford to pay for my own drinks seems a lifetime away. 2 vodka lemonade’s and a JD and coke – successful evening.

12:52am

I don’t feel well.

1.37am

Sweating along to Kings of Leon with the other 300 students in the club. Oh yes my sex is on fire.

2.42am

Mmmm Cheesy chips

3.05am

Am I alive? I feel like I am inside a washing machine the room is spinning so much. One eye closed to ensure half decent vision. I must set an alarm, where’s my….Zzzzzzzz

11.23am

Shit I did it again!

Written by Jenny Welsh

This is an entry for the Hussy’s Beachdownwriter Competition.

To see all of the entries follow me……

For details of the festival (the prize) www.beachdownfestival.com

Paul Gregory (guitar)

@ St Nicholas Church

5^th May 7.30pm-9.15pm

£8

 This event is a Hussy pick for the Brighton Fringe.

To see all of our top choices Follow Me

Brighton’s oldest church St Nicholas on Dyke Road brings us something a little bit different.

With an intoxicating mix of piano and guitar combinations plus solos, works include those of Boccheri, Schubert and Albeniz.

For one night only, internationally acclaimed musicians Yoko Ono, established concert guitarist Paul Gregory and tenor Robert Chavner will join forces to create a wall of impenetrable sound. Surely this speaks for itself, an event not to be missed.

For more info visit: www.guitars-maestosomusic.com

This is an entry for the competition to win a ticket to the Beachdown Festival.

The winner will be the one whose writings recieve the most visits.

See all of the entries here

For details of the festival www.beachdownfestival.com

Two to choose from here.

One inside, one outside. It may rain, The Hussy has thought of everyrthing.

These events are Hussy picks for the Brighton Fringe.

To see all of our choices follow me

A Midsummer Nights Dream

@ St Ann’s Well Gardens

7th-10^th May & 13th-17^th May

7.30-10pm

£10

Picture this, possibly the most romantic comedy from Shakespeare, ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ which portrays the adventures of four young Athenian lovers, performed live at sunset.

The Festival Shakespeare Company are getting together for the Fringe festival to bring us an open-air performance of one of Shakespeare’s most popular works, in the tranquil setting of St Ann’s Well Gardens,

Pack a blanket, your picnic basket and bring a bottle of something bubbly along to enjoy a civilized evening of lighthearted romance and culture in the sunshine.

For more info visit: http://www.brightonfestivalfringe.org.uk/

Shakespeare’s Othello

@ Brighton Unitarian Church

18th-22^nd May

6pm – 10pm

£6 age res 12

Get lost in Shakespearian tragedy Othello, the Moor of Venice, a play which revolves around central characters Othello, a Moorish general in the Venetian army and his wife Desdemona.

Touching on themes such as racism, jealousy, betrayal and love, the play has long been the foundation for various operatic, film and literary adaptations.

Now Sussex University drama society is bringing us their version with a contemporary twist at the Brighton Unitarian church.

For more info visit: www.brightonfestivalfringe.org.uk

This is an entry for the competition to win a ticket to the Beachdown Festival.

The winner will be the one whose writings recieve the most visits.

See all of the entries here

For details of the festival www.beachdownfestival.com

To see all of our top choices Follow Me

@The Brighton Coalition

Saturday April 4, 2009

One of the best things you can do on a Friday night in Brighton to wind down from a busy week is nip out for a few drinks and a spot of live music, even more reason if it’s in the name of charity. 

For all of those reasons, last night my friends and I ventured out to trendy seafront nightclub The Coalition.

The Brighton Coalition is not your average nightclub, full of beautiful people, the 7 day week programme always carries a variety of live music, comedy and achingly cool DJ nights that embrace the local culture.

Last night we were there for Bright-AID, a live music event held in the name of raising money for Cancer Research, the Polycystic Kidney Charity and The Macmillan Hospice. What better reason to put our dancing shoes on?

The fully local line-up included Gloria Cycles, The Third Man (with Max Rafferty from The Kooks) and Rock ‘n’ Roll-er’s I-Koma, all this for a minimal £5 entry fee.

Kicking the night off at 9pm was Brighton-based foursome I-Koma www.ikoma.co.uk .  Warming us up nicely, front man Davey Perry was on form filling the stage with a massive energy that they kept up the whole way through the gig. Giving us the songs we wanted, including the already familiar ‘La La La Hey’ and ‘Wasting My Time’ they got us hip-shaking and hair-flicking all over. By the time it was finished, all we wanted was to hear more.

Next up was The Third Man www.thethirdman.co.uk, a first time see for me and they certainly didn’t disappoint. Vocalist and guitarist Max Rafferty held the audience captive with a fresh indie sound that felt new and progressive. The whole set list was perfect, but it was latest song ‘Better Days’ that captured our chilled out vibe perfectly.

This lead us nicely into the concluding act, the just fabulous, Gloria Cycles www.gloriacycles.co.uk.

With clear influences from The Eels, Supergrass and Talking Heads among others, vocalists Glaswegian-born Kenny McCracken and Brightonian Jen Dalby gave us the magic that capped off the evening nicely. When the crowd wasn’t dancing it was because we were completely enchanted by Jen Dalby’s somewhat hypnotic voice and stage presence – These are the ones I’ll be watching closely this summer.

All in all a fantastic line up and The Coalition works incredibly well as a live gig venue – a true Brightonian’s night out. 

To find out more about what’s on at The Coalition visit: drinkinbrighton  

Written by Sarah L Sharp

This is an entry for the competition to win a ticket to the Beachdown Festival.

The winner will be the one whose writings recieve the most visits.

See all of the entries here

For details of the festival www.beachdownfestival.com

So Get Ready for

Brighton Fringe Festival 2009

Just one of the great things we have to look forward to here during the start of the summer is The Brighton Fringe Festival – a modern mixture of open air theatre, live music, comedy, and cabaret and book readings.

Talented artistes from all over the world come to Brighton for the month of May to celebrate well, the arts and being in Brighton.

The windowsills of the local cafe’s and bars are already filling up with the guides of what’s on and where.  So roll up, roll up folks, get your tickets here and jam pack your diaries - there are some things you just won’t want to miss.

The hot picks for 2009 are listed here so clickety-click you way over.

 The list will keep growing, so come back.

Reviews will be added during the festival.

To book tickets for any of the performances listed above and to read about many more, please visit http://www.brightonfestivalfringe.org.uk/.

Written and selected by Sarah L Sharp

The Hussy is giving out a press pass for this years Beachdown Festival. The ticket will go to the contributor whose work receives the most visits on The Hussy.

If you are interested go to our competion section to find out more….

This is an entry for the competition and a review of last year’s event.

The toilets. They were supreme. My previous experiences of festival toilets have been swing doors and precarious holes. You perch, hover or take a chance and sit, and pray that the entire structure isn’t about to collapse into the swirling pit of hell below. You bring your own toilet paper. And you don’t look down.

Yes. I don’t sound like a hardcore outdoor party queen. But I’ve done my share of festivals. I know how to sneak in my own booze, accessorise with nature, and survive off nowt but bread rolls and fizzy sweets for four days.

I certainly don’t expect a seat, a sink, a flush or a mirror! But that’s what the organisers of virgin Beachdown saw fit to provide their festival goers last year. I thank them from the bottom of my jaded heart.  The almost constant supply of big yellow buses also meant that us local types with more vanity than sense could nip back home and freshen up between sets.

I think that most of the people who attend festivals have some sort of appreciation for, or affinity with, nature. They like their partying to have an aesthetic edge. Otherwise why bother to lug the best part of your comfortable home to the middle of a field? 

There were plenty of aesthetics for when your eyes, and your brain, needed a little respite. You can see the sea, and feel that little bit closer to the sky than you would anywhere else in Sussex. If your tent or indeed, your head, needs airing – well the breeze up there is relentlessly stiff. Last summer gave us a pretty pathetic performance, but when the sun did stop by you felt warm inside and out.

OK, so I’ve talked about the toilets and the views. You probably the rightful place for this review is in Homes and Gardens. So let’s get on to the good stuff shall we?

Obviously, the music. Why didn’t I start with the music? Last year’s line up included The Maccabees, De La Soul, Fun Lovin’ Criminals, and Jose Gonzalez. Lots of local talent. Not bad for £85. And the site is small enough that you could get round and see everybody you wanted to without having to synchronise watches. Thanks to a combination of over-indulgence and the discovery of the dance tent, which, once I’d finished bouncing about in, I decided to lie on the floor of, I didn’t get to see that much. The Maccabees were wonderful though. Chirpy and impressively competent and got the freezing cold crowd thawed out. Because, I’m not gonna lie to you, it is bloody chilly up there. Bring layers. Get your nan to knit you something cosy. Nobody will care what you’re wearing. This is something else I really enjoyed about this festival. The absence of over-styled, super-preened fashionistas. Half the fun of these things is checking out what everybody else is wearing, if it’s nothing but Top Shop then you feel a bit cheated.

In addition to the bands, there were lots of opportunities to bob about al fresco. The disco dance shed, for example, a valuable addition to any atmosphere. The DJ’s judged the mood of the crowd perfectly i.e. we’re drunk, play something that’ll make us go waaaaay! I’ve already mentioned the dance tent, needless to say, I enjoyed that a bit too much. When you are sticking to your wellies with the sweat of your exertions, you can toddle off and get yourself a paella. Or a steak sandwich. Or a gourmet pie. A nice change from the usual Friday night cold chips or wilting kebab. I felt almost virtuous, being able to soak up all the excess with such healthy food stuff.

 Of course, it wasn’t all gravy. I did get the distinct impression that the organisers were still finding their feet. Sorry to bang on about the toilets, but, beautiful as they were, there weren’t nearly enough of them. There was also the promise of the showers, but these never materialised. The setting up still seemed to be going on 2 days in. And I know I’m not supposed to complain about this sort of thing, but the security was fairly rigorous. You had to know your stuff if you wanted to get anything past those guys.

Still, we don’t expect perfection in England, do we? We can put up with a lot for the promise of a good time. And that promise, overall, was kept. In the words of Travis from Clueless: ‘two very enthusiastic thumbs up’.

 To find out more and buy tickets for Beachdown 2009

www.beachdownfestival.com

Written by Emma Cave

Printed Papers – Stanley Donwood

20th March – 10th April

The lovely little ink_d gallery on North Road is filled with the smells of paint, and a transparent floor board allows a sneaky view into the basement studio space.  Voyeurism, a sense of modern malaise and the notion of Big Brother are themes that run through Stanley Donwood’s work on display here.

Donwood is most well known for being the man responsible for all Radiohead artwork since the My Iron Lung EP in 1994, he is also responsible for the collection of short stories Slowly Downward, alongside other art and fiction publications.  The work on display here has a certain focus on images familiar to music fans, the window hosts the multi-coloured cover art to Hail to the Thief; a version of the New York street map with buidings converted to boxed words such as ‘Geeks’, ‘Trickledown’ and ‘Revenge’.  Elsewhere there are prints from the OK Computer artwork and Thom Yorke’s solo album The Eraser, the latter of which are beautiful lino prints on shimmering, gold.

The exhibition also includes a number of new pieces from Donwood’s current obsession; goat bankers!?  These vibrant, striking pieces offset the slightly menacing faces of a goat in a suit with streaks and blobs of primary coloured paint to create the stuff of children’s nightmares.  You can pick up a complimentary goat banker badge or sticker from the gallery, and if you’re lucky they had some mini eggs when I popped in.

The exhibition runs until April 10th and was organised in collaboration with Donwood so a lot of the pieces on display are very rare and unique editions of artwork that, whether you’re aware of it or not, has been iconic in late-20th and early-21st century pop culture.

ink_d
96 North Road, Brighton, BN1 1YE

01273 645299
gallery@ink-d.co.uk
www.ink-d.co.uk

Gargantuan Rock Monster

zeeb

This is straight up punk rock, but Zeeb fail to gain any momentum throughout their second album. Though they are not doing anything that hasn’t been done before, they admittedly do it well.  This is despite unimaginative titles – ‘Drinkin’ Gasoline’ and ‘Chainsaw Lurve’ continue their testosterone fuelled barrage of meager lyrics that follow every stereotype of this genre.

They focus on a low-fi sound that though deliberate, is comparative to the Dead Kennedys covering Busted.  Whilst the music produced is far from ‘gargantuan rock’, it is most certainly a monstrous album leaving me to question who would allow a follow up to a presumably equally dissatisfying debut.

However, there are sparse highlights that could fill a much shorter CD.  ‘Sex + Supernova’ is the best of their efforts, due to it’s grinding bass, successful song formula and duel vocal choruses.  It seemed that just over half way through the album, Zeeb themselves realized they were not cut out for true punk rock and instead opted in ‘Angel Grinder’ to experiment with an undeniably indie influenced introduction ala The Futureheads. 

Their use of simple cliché lyrics and overused chords fuse together to make eleven tracks that quite simply are not worth listening to.  Unless you enjoy the sound of three middle-aged men attempting to live out dreams they shared as teenagers.

Reviewed by Amy Russell

Phinius Gage & The King Blues 

Phinius Gage opened up to a crowd who looked on slightly nonchalantly, but that didn’t stop the Brighton punkers from putting their all into the show.  Starting with a selection of songs from their older albums; ‘Fire’s Burning’ and ‘Understand’ and playing with such contagious enthusiasm that I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my face.

 
A few members of the dispersed crowd shared the energy displayed by this gruff looking band, dancing along and occasionally shouting the few lyrics they knew of the fast, raw songs.  It became apparent that they aren’t just about the tunes and have a deeper meaning to their songs.  This was clear when bassist Mike Scott declared that one of their songs ‘Got Away With Words, Got Away With Murder’ is about vegetarianism.  He then risked a stab at people who indulge in bacon sarnies whilst standing proudly wearing a vegan design t-shirt.

Engrossed with watching them interact and throw themselves around the small stage, I noticed the singer Ade had trouble controlling his saliva during this show.  This display left me slightly perturbed, and I’m sure I wasn’t the only one.  Managing to not slip on Ade’s spittle; Phinius Gage played a superbly passionate set in their hometown, sharing their punk influences and warming up the small crowd. Then The King Blues hit the stage.

Hit the stage they certainly did! By the time The King Blues had brandished a white sheet taped to the rear wall with Gaffa tape displaying words ‘The King Fuckin’ Blues’, the crowd had shuffled and edged forward with anticipation.  They opened with an instrumental introduction and begun teasing the crowd with their talent; before diving head first into the set.

Their blend of instruments was ‘unique’: the 6 members consisting of a standard two-guitar-drum-bass combo. Plus they also managed to cram a percussionist with bongos and assorted hand-held instruments onto the stage. Vocalist Itch switched between his ukulele and tenor melodica for the introduction to some songs.

The floor was bouncing midway through their first song, and by the third, beer had begun flowing and limbs flailing.  The tiny venue quickly turned into a seething mass, dancing rhythmically to the funky beats.  It’s difficult to confine this band to a genre, they show strong reggae influences, which they arftfully blend with a ska beat.  Lyrically they show a political passion.

The King Blues gripped of the audience, encouraging them to sing the words to ‘Come Fi Di Youth’ after achieving a massive ‘fuck you’ to the BNP from the whole venue.  With an honest display of their political influence and unique musical style so well put together that it is hard to fault this stunning performance.  Confidently striking chords on a ukulele, front man Itch could not look more natural stood at stage-front.  The entire band were laughing and smiling with each other during songs, each member clearly having a good time.

The King Blues weren’t all dancing fun though.  Towards the end of their set they played a slow number containing the words ‘you look beautiful tonight’, the result? Clambering onto sweaty shoulders and brandishing lighters.  Another glorious moment, thay had those unfamiliar with this band singing to songs they have never heard before.  For the finale, The King Blues displayed their a cappella influences with a superb rendition of the Italian partisan song ‘Bella Ciao’ with guitarist Fruitbag showing off a beautiful voice.  Bellowing out foreign words (meaning ‘goodbye beautiful’), all fists were in the air and each soul filled with a passion for this band. 

“We played for fucking days!” exclaimed vocalist Itch in a later interview, but to be fair, I don’t think anybody complained. 

Reviewed by Amy Russell @ , Brighton Concorde 2, September 23rd.

This is an entry for the Beachdownwriter Competition

A Parisian musical revue for your delectation (written by Dermot McLaughlin and Sebastian Dunn)

Fri 27/03/09 at 9.00pm and Sun 29/03/09 at  7.00pm

A little about Lillie-

‘Excuse my French but BLOODY HELL! At last she has hit our shores. She is one foxy, sexy, sophisticated French lady! Lillie la France has arrived and will delight you with her “je ne sais quoi” and Gallic charms.

Born among the artists and the riffraff of the “Butte Montmartre”, the red light district of Paris, Lillie Daniele La France, one of the many children of the colourful Madame Janine and a British airman, Lillie is the quintessential “Môme de Paris”.

After an unsuccessful attempt at working in the family owned brothel of Place Blanche, she was spotted by Monsieur Jean, director of the Moulin Rouge Music-hall troupe and as a chorus girl in the “C’est Formidable!” revue show. Her charisma, cheeky sexual performance and her ease at embracing standards by Edith Piaf, Eartha Kitt and Charles Aznavour and making them her very own, led her to the very top of the Parisian cabaret A-list.  Now sit back, relax, and listen very carefully, she shall sing this only once… Don’t miss out and book her now. Let her bring your customers the magical charm of Paris!’

The Marlborough Theatre is hosting a short residence by Ms La France on the 27th & 29th March (a nominal £5 charge to cover Eurostar tickets for Madame). Join Lillie for an evening of music, tears and out of control boas, feel her life (and loves) through her music and her shimmering joie de vivre.  Book now and do not miss the wonder of Paris by the sea, packaged in the beauty that is Her Royal Highness, Lillie La France. Vive Lillie!! Vive La France!!

The Marlborough Theatre

www.marlboroughtheatre.co.uk

4 Princes Street, Brighton

Beautiful Brutal Bronson

My sole aim in life is to be romantic. Forget all that flowers and chocolates bullshit, I mean proper romantic-like taking your girlfriend to a spectacularly violent film.

One Word

Saturday night at the movies, who cares what picture you see? I do. I chose ‘Bronson’, mainly because I like one word titles for films (‘Fargo’, ‘Goodfellas’ as opposed to ‘The curious case of Benjamin Button’ or ‘The Assassination of Jesse James by the coward Robert Ford’). My girlfriend (‘The Spaniel’) had not heard of Britain’s most dangerous prisoner, in fact she thought that I should bear that moniker, except that I had clearly escaped and used deep make up to disguise my tagging device as an oversized skin blemish.

I told The Spaniel that it was a violent film and that there might even been be some swearing in it. She punched me in the face and called me a cunt. Everything was in place for a romantic evening. We booked tickets in advance as I had had a crazy notion that it might be a popular choice for a Saturday night out. We sat in the 72% empty Duke of York’s and I realised that I had misjudge the mood a tad-perhaps the Hanover hippy crowd weren’t so down with the prospect of watching a man with serious mental issues beat the shit out of everyone in his path.

Sociopathic Monster

There was no time for heavy petting before the first jaw crushing punch flashed across the screen. I realised I had to go into protective male role at once-The Spaniel was sure to be traumatised by this level of unbridled brutality and I would be there to reassuringly offer my broad chest for support. Except for she seemed to be transfixed and was rolling with the on screen punches and exclaiming something like ‘Cor!’ as Bronson disfigured another speechless extra. It seemed that I had once again misjudged the mood. The reality seeped into my little brain-The Spaniel was a sociopathic monster-ten years of kickboxing classes had quite literally gone to her curly head. Frankly, she scared me more that Tom Hardy’s twelve foot high bulk in front of me. I tried to shuffle to another seat but she gripped my hand, clicking knuckles and I sat my bum back down.

As screws and gypsies fell (and were pissed on), as ‘Cunts!’ was roared from between heavily spittled lips, The Spaniel looked on, wishing she was ‘inside’ and kicking a prison warden in the balls. (Ok, perhaps she was wondering what pub to go to after the film, but who wants to hear that?)

Film reviews often spend five hundred words trying to tell you very little (see above). They muse on comparisons with other films in the genre, the director’s other work when all you really want to know is, ‘Is it shit?’ So, seeing as I have talked crap throughout this piece so far, here are my thoughts in easy to read bullet point form (mail me for the full PowerPoint presentation slides).

-It is (despite its violent premise) a beautiful film.
-Great soundtrack.
-Offers no explanation of how Bronson became quite so bonkers.
-Far from glamorising him, he comes across as lonely and horribly pathetic.
-I liked it.

Review written by Tim Smillie with help from The Spaniel

Great

Escape Festival 2009 PREVIEW

May 14th – 15th – 16th

Looking at the current line-up for this year’s Great Escape Festival is almost like looking at my own fantasy festival roster (sadly I don’t think Marvin Gaye or Jeff Buckley are available for bookings anymore).

Top of my must see list is Ben Kweller, the curly haired American has slowly and steadily been building up an impressive catalogue of songs beginning with his quirky indie-pop debut record ‘Sha Sha’ with the gorgeous song ‘In Other Words’ and slacker-anthem ‘Wasted & Ready’ being particular standouts, through his alt-country new record ‘Changing Horses’; Kweller has ear-marked himself as a considerable talent.

Elsewhere there’s the almighty Holy Fuck, praised by many including Radiohead, they are an act truly worthy of the hype, creating Earth-shaking instrumental cacophonies that sound like insanely well-produced, remixes but are, in fact, played entirely live.  Songs such as ‘Casio Bossa Nova’ and ‘Lovely Allan’ are gloriously exuberant and guaranteed to prompt moshing, dancing and general grinning.

There’s meaty rock in the form of Kasabian and Future of the Left, the latter of which delivered a blistering set at last year’s Swn Festival in Cardiff, which saw me pogoing incessantly to pretty much every song they played.  Their debut album ‘Curses’ is a classic of Welsh rawk and the follow-up should be on its way soon.

Some great folk acts can be found in the shape of Woodpigeon, who were a definite highlight when I first heard them at End of the Road in 2008, and are gathering quite a reputation for themselves of late.  Meanwhile there’s Liam Finn whose recent album ‘I’ll Be Lightening’ saw the singer-songwriter coming on in leaps and bounds.  Also highly recommended is Lightspeed Champion, the baroque new guise of ex-Test Icicles member Devonte Hynes, his debut album ‘Falling Off The Lavender Bridge’ prompted the NME to name Hynes the 20th ‘coolest person in rock’.

There’s also shouty, 80s-teen-movie punk-pop from Fight Like Apes (brilliant at Green Man last summer), experimental electro from The Mae Shi, avant-garde surreal pop brilliance from New Zealand’s Conan Mockasin (check out this live session I recorded with him in the back of a transit van: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3AreTg0jXg ), and I could also harp on about The Veils, Metronomy, Casiokids, The Pains of Being Pure At Heart, British Sea Power and Bell X1 but I don’t want to spoil it all for you… there’s so much crammed into this 3 day, 300 band, 34 venue event that part of the fun is discovering some amazing new acts for yourself!  I’m already having dilemmas about who to see.

The festival begins on the 14th of May, and all the info you need can be discovered online at: http://www.escapegreat.com

See you there!

Charity may begin at home but it is becoming impossible to keep it out of my home. It is seeping out through my television, computer and radio.

The Comic Relief – Red Nose Climb http://www.rednoseday.com/climb sums it all up. It’s got middling celebrities earnestly saving the world by attempting a death-defying feat neatly packed, wrapped and distributed by an all outlet media sell.

In the name of selfless benevolence ten top names are humbly exposing themselves to me. They have laid themselves bare; this is not about them, this is for charity. Naked and exposed they plead for me to help them to help others. What they don’t realise as they kneel before me palm raised for alms is that with the other and they are subconsciously fiddling with themselves. Chris Moyles, Fearne Cotton and the gang line themselves up before me – pleading and rubbing, grovelling and stroking. The carefully constructed humbleness of the pose fails to disguise the tumescence of the ego – pumped up with self-love.

Don’t misunderstand me; I want to see good causes honoured. I have devised a method that will see them receive more money, without the need for celebrities to use African babies for their own personal gratification.

Firstly you have the hype-hype-hype of the mission’s danger. Training in hyperbaric chambers, killer temperatures off the scale altitudes. Ten thousand people each year summit on Kilimanjaro, I am pretty certain that as most climbers are on either a Gap year or a midlife crisis things to do before you die trip, they probably didn’t have access to hyperbaric chambers. Granted a few of them die. But if 10,000 people were to engage in that other fundraising standard – sitting in a tub of baked beans – the death toll would be similar.

But every morning on Radio1 I have been told about the death dicing these slebs are about to engage in to save the world. And saving the world is what they actually claim to be doing. They are not saving lives they are going for a stroll up a (big) hill. The people giving money are saving lives.

So, cut out the egotising, self-publicising, world-savers. Just ask Joey Public to donate to save lives. The immediate benefit of this would be to save on twenty first class return airfares to Tanzania, hotels and climbing equipment. That saves one hundred thousand lives straight away.

I am not stupid. I know. You need the hype to get the public hysterical enough to donate money. No celebrities risking lives/limbs – no money.

So here is the really clever plan. Don’t climb the mountain; don’t fluff the already erect celebritegos. Don’t broadcast anything. Easy. Switch off all transmissions. No slebs doing the rounds on chat shows, no newspaper articles, no radio promotion.

The BBC costs 118 million per day to run. Last year, Comic Relief raised 67 million. So if every time a Comic Relief related event/promo/hype was scheduled to be broadcast; it wasn’t.  In its place nothing was broadcast. Silence. All transmitters were switched off. All BBC staff went to get a coffee. The money saved could become the money gained.

Faultless logic. World saved. Job done.

You can read the usual blah-blah press release here in the London Paper

Here is a video offering advice on planning an expedition to climb Kilimanjaro.

Five places to see before they are changed forever on why it is a nice place for a holiday.

Patti Plinko

Upstairs at Three and Ten, Kemptown, Brighton. www.otherplaceproductions.co.uk

Friday 13^th February 2009.

A year ago (almost literally bar a week) saw Ms Patti Plinko kick off her sesh by being untied from her lace blindfold to perform a sultry, sexy set. This time around there’s no blindfold (don’t worry, Her Boy still wears a gas mask) and a lot more talking in between songs of the whys and hows, which is a good thing because it then all starts to make sweet sublime sense.

The songs are the same deliciously dark ditties with tongue-in-cheek lyrics about death, murders and sex, all wickedly crooned in a honey-esque tone.

Patti Plinko still pours herself whiskey but this time less often and with more haste. Maybe because she has more songs to sing a year later or maybe because she and Her Boy share lots more giggles and banter with each other and to us, the grateful audience.

Ukueles are strummed, Piaf style notes are rasped and the two still deliver a memorable, unique performance everyone listening will remember forever more. And that’s really not an exaggeration. This gal’s vocal chords have been compared to Marilyn Monroe, Regina Spektor, Bessie Smith, and Jaqued Brel so there! Oh and Amanda Palmer of the Dresden Dolls didn’t describe Patti as ‘like a mad fucking Doris Day meets PJ Harvey’ for nothing.

The only teeny criticism to be given which, yes is a personal view but hey, this is a review not a press release, is that there was a tad too much ‘mad’ theatrical eye rolling and raspy screams for moi and my pal. For us, the dramatic lyrics spoke for themselves and the constant scream-like noises just detracted from a fab, original voice we just wanted to hear more of.

Welcome to the surreal, black comical world of Dada Noir a la Patti Plinko. You’ll so be back for more!

See www.myspace.com/pattiplinkoandherboy

Album out now!

By Monica Perdoni

Image by Jessie Barry

Pay attention people! It’s spreading fast, this latest urban trend, has got to be the coolest way to get about town. So if you catch a glimpse of shady figures in baggy jeans, hoods and bandanas running lightly across our city scapes, its not always cause for alarm! Listen up…..and get the Urban Flow!

Words and Pictures by Jessie Barry  jessiebphotography@hotmail.co.uk 

Founded in France, Free running, or parkour, is an art form involving leaping, landing, twisting and balancing your way around urban architecture. It is an activity with the aim of moving from one point to another as quickly and efficiently as possible, using principally the abilities of the human body. It is meant to help one overcome obstacles, which can be anything around you, from branches and rocks to rails and concrete walls. It is also an established form of art, entertainment and a wicked pastime! When you see free runners performing this hybrid of break-dancing, martial arts and ballet, they make bland urban landscapes look like they were was designed solely with their fun in mind.

Don’t get it twisted, free runners are not the same brush as skateboarders, who often rush through the streets causing damaged with their boards. Free running is on another level.

At a basic level it is about training your body, while using the architecture around you to overcome obstacles and create movement. Free running is environmentally friendly and has been described by some as allied to Buddhism, to develop the inner self. Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan are commonly quoted as inspirational figures.

It has been described at a deeper level as rebellion. It is seen as a rejection of society about being free to move in a city designed to control our movement with barriers and boundaries. For the youth in society today, free running is an ideal hobby; using it to channel this rebellion into something positive.

Between certain ages, when your to cool for ‘kids stuff’ but not accepted as ‘grown ups’, groups of our youngsters take to the streets. However our society provides nothing, for young people who fall into those groups, to stimulate or entertain them. Some maybe lucky enough to have a youth club nearby, but some don’t, some individuals isolate themselves. These individuals unite creating many groups which isolate themselves and a ‘gang culture’ is created. These groups are frustrated and bored keeping themselves stimulated through causing damage, noise, drinking, using drugs and fighting. Today gang violence and knife crime is apparent everyday in our news and media. If this frustration of our young people could be channeled into a hobby, a super cool hobby, which will most defiantly up your street cred! I think free running is defiantly it!

 Free running is accessible to everyone from all walks of life. You can practice on your own or with mates anywhere and everywhere you go! From your street, to the park, to your city centers! Providing young people with something other than; drink, drugs and violence to stimulate their minds. You can practice in your yard, around your town, estate or garden, even at school or after work. You can practice with mates, sharing skills and showing off your latest moves, you’d soon be impressing everyone you meet and with a hobby to be proud of too!

Free running also produces career options for those who excel. It is seen in music videos, advertising, film and documentaries everywhere. The cult sport is taking off in cities all round UK also throughout Europe and the US. Websites like urbanfreeflow.com are becoming ever popular, offering tutorials on the latest death-defying moves. Since forming at the end of 2002, Urban Freeflow have expanded rapidly from its London base to become the global centre of contact, information, fundamental teaching and performance.  They have been commissioned to direct ,produce and edit for the likes of Adidas, Ecko, Nokia, Walt Disney, Casino Royal, Prada, National Geographic, Vodaphone, BBC, Redbull,  and Mercedes-Benz just to name a few. Various edits have also been licensed for DVD and TV. The most recognised is with Channel Four on the Jump Britain documentary. This was amazing and a landmark for Free running, if you haven’t seen it YOU NEED TO!

Urban Freeflow is the most comprehensive Parkour/Free run site in the World, breaking down barriers and educating people through movement. It is the world’s largest organisation of this kind represented in the public eye. The efforts of the entire team at Urban Free flow have been instrumental in bringing the art of Parkour and Free run into the global consciousness.

Urban Freeflow were the first organisation worldwide to set up regular classes and after developing the Parkour Units 1 and 2 AQA accreditation systems with Westminster City Council, they have successfully delivered structured training sessions in London based schools. From there, they were also the first organisation to set up a dedicated academy to teach weekly classes. Coaching has also been delivered to the police force, the scouts; numerous youth based organisations, corporate clients and many high profile commercial organisations. As well as appearing in Daily mail, Arts London news, and many more publications throughout the UK also the likes of I – D Magazine, Time Out and The New York Times. These guys are great and their work is Amazing so don’t get left behind….keep up with the ‘urban flow’ and get involved.

Words and Pictures by Jessie Barry jessiebphotography@hotmail.co.uk

For further information and lessons contact www.urbanfreeflow.com
All business and general enquiries:

ez@urbanfreeflow.com Urban Freeflow, 6 Denton Way, Frimley, Surrey, GU16 8UQ, United Kingdom

This is an entry for the Hussy’s Beachdownwriter competition to win a ticket to the Beachdown festival www.beachdownfestival.com

Welcome to a world of teasing, titillation and temptation. A world built on fun and fantasy, it is of course the wonderful world of Burlesque, enjoying a resurgence in popularity with the aid of high profile odern performers such as Dita Von Teese and a host of shows and classes that are readily available for the those that are curious about this

Burlesque performances peaked in their popularity in Britain in the nineteenth century and had a particularly satirical flavour at the time making fun of some of the more ‘serious’ art forms. Both men and women performed in these early Burlesque shows and the performances were aimed to be more satirical than titillating. This all changed however once burlesque arrived in the USA. There still remained a strong sense of humour running through the performances, however the humour became more sexually charged and burlesque became a female-led affair becoming more synomynous with striptease.

I think the nature of the burlesque act will support its renewed popularity. Yes, there is a explicit sexual edge to the shows, but it is not sleazy or cheap, it is instead combined with a theatrical edge which includes; singing, dancing and humour. This equals a combination of elements which will appeal to a wide range of people and not restrict the audience as is common with more standard strip acts in today’s society.

Leg Scarification

Body Modification

Once an explicit symbol of individuality or conformity to something other than the norm, body modification now appeals to a wide range of people from all social groupings and all walks of life.  Similarly to music, fashion and hairstyles there are trends that appear and disappear and always the outrageous statements that lie on the fringes of it all.  Not being afraid of having a few needles inserted into my skin I am interested in the world of body modification today and what it means.   Tiff Badhairdo from Magnus Opus Tattoo parlour, Brighton helped answer a few of my questions to delve into the world of needles, scalpels and human flesh…

I think there is a fairly standard route of entry into the world of body modification; pierced ears, maybe a nose, lip or eyebrow, with a progression into cartilage and surface piercings (piercings that enter and exit along the same piece of skin e.g. wrist or ankle) later on.  From Tiff’s experience, the tragus (a particular area of cartilage in the ear)  is one of the most popular piercings he performs now and he certainly believes over time that popularity comes and goes for certain piercings as is the case with tattoos. New trends and methods appear over time and in turn grow in popularity as more people exhibit them.

In recent years, those looking for a new way of expressing themselves through the medium of body modification can turn to scarification.  This has become the latest form of body art that grown in popularity.  Like tattoos, scarification is a permanent design achieved through scarring the skin with, most commonly; a scalpel or the use of heat (branding).  Scarification can be seen as a step on from tattooing, it is a permanent modification with the added element that it is raised unlike a tattoo so has a more tactile element. Tiff explained that scarification was always a more ‘underground’ form of body art which is now appealing to a wider range of people, as he remembers a time when there was no interest in scarification at all. Tiff believes a major factor that has brought scarification to the forefront of body modifications is the internet.  Websites such as www.bmezine.com allow the browser to enter into a world of common body modifications or experience a whole new realm of extreme modifications that are definitely not for the faint hearted!  Tiff does acknowledge that some people see scarification blurring the lines too much between body modification and self harm, but when carried out by experienced artists this link becomes weak.  Self-harm has a serious psychological element involved when it is carried out, when someone wants to become scarred for purely aesthetic reasons this does not hold the psychological elements of self harm.

Homemade Scarification

Microdermals are another modification that has recently increased in popularity.  A microdermal displays the combined appearance of an implant (inserting something under the skin) and a piercing.  A single stud is ‘anchored’ under the skin after a small incision is made with a scalpel.  They are a lot less likely to grow out of the skin than regular surface piercings.  This is because there are holes in piece of metal under the skin, so tissue can grow through them and keep the jewellery anchored in place.  Microdermals are being incorporated with tattoos in some cases adding a 3D element to designs and with a far less invasive procedure than involved in a surface piercing.

I have only managed to touch the surface regarding body modification in this article as there are many other procedures that are carried out today.  As much as trends in body modification have changed over the years and have become more widely acceptable in our culture (in my last office job I was often given piercing care advice from my manager!) it is definitely true that those whose bodies are heavily modified are still open to receive prejudice from a large majority of society.  Tiff comments that those who have a lot of visible modifications will usually be limited to working within the body modification industry or within a few other workplaces that will not discriminate.  In this sense there is still prejudice against people just because they choose to decorate their body.  Is this fair?  I don’t think so; unless offensive material is displayed on someone’s body I don’t think it is right to make an assumption about their character purely based on that.  However, it is undeniably human nature to react to those that are different from you and maybe opinions will change over time.  Just make sure if you do get any modifications yourself, get them done professionally and look after them, infected modifications are not so fun!

Arm Scarification

The Real Ale Drinker

illustration, Paul Stapleton

The Real Ale Drinker is a curious species, rarely seen outside of its natural habitat, the pub. Although it tends to lead a highly solitary life, the Real Ale Drinker will nevertheless undertake lengthy journeys across town to convene with the rest of its fold. Once there, it seldom leaves. Such creatures are easy to spot in places like The Evening Star and The Nelson – on account of their wiry beard-growth, veiny noses, and bulging beer-guts. These physical characteristics are invariably brought on by the peculiarities of their diet. Real Ale Drinkers, of course, feed solely on organic-hops and Brannigans.

The Real Ale Drinker will sit atop his perch for hours at a stretch, slurring animatedly about the respective merits of Kentish Bitters. Conservations of this sort rarely end unless one party slides off their stool in a slump-sack of piss and mouth-foam. When confronted, however, this otherwise docile creature may become aggressive and – depending on their level of inebriation – launch into a rant about chain-pubs and microbreweries. The best way to provoke them is to go up to the bar and ask for a pint of Stella or Fosters. To even utter such words in the presence of a Real Ale Drinker produces a sort of Pavlovian response whereby they will force-feed you whatever potent beverage they’re drinking at the time. Another curious fact about this species is that they are all male. Little is known of their mating rituals and that is probably a good thing.

There was a girl at a party in Bevendean. She was beautiful. I noticed her talking to some people on the other side of the room. After an hour or so of preparation I made my move. Assuming the guise of a normal person I casually strolled past, pausing at the sink. Then, whilst casually staring at a nearby kitchen utensil, I pricked up my ears. The purpose of my plan was to merely hear her speak. I was curious to hear what she sounded like. I was hoping, perhaps, to overhear the tail-end of some charming anecdote – or at least catch a snippet of whatever mellifluous sounds were blossoming from her perfect little mouth.

“When I’m in Primark I literally go insane.”

A second later I had run away. She had blurted it out with a kind of giggling gusto that appalled me. It sounded like a punchline to a joke, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t. I tried for a while to think of what build-up such a joke would require, but I was stumped. Something about a massacre in a mall perhaps? I realised it wasn’t a joke, just a banal comment about shopping. The inanity of it depressed me threefold. Not only does this beautiful creature shop at Primark, she feels the need to talk about it at parties – and also gets so excited by said department store that she actually has a psychotic episode.

 a semi-corrupt quasi-fascistic system of linguistic repression is preferable to overhearing pretty girls talking crap about Primarks

But, of course, she didn’t mean it. Not literally. Presumably she meant: “When I’m in Primark I get somewhat enthusiastic about the prospect of purchasing clothes”. Phrasing it like that, however, would have merely compounded the utter naffness of what she was saying. So instead, this milky-skinned princess decided to pep it up a little by comparing her Primark-induced experiences with the onset of mental illness. Fair enough, compare high-street shopping with madness if you must – perhaps there’s a kind of political subtext lurking in there. But it was the word ‘literally’ that bugged me most. She could have settled for ‘virtually’ or even ‘almost’, but no, she had to insist on going all the way with ‘literally’. This golden-haired goddess thus overstepped the mark, and, in addition to labelling herself a shopoholic nutter, had succeeded with a mere eight words to say something equally inane, untrue AND naff. Needless to say, I lost interest at that point.

I only care because using words inappropriately means you’ll run out of decent ones when you really need them. If you call your mate a cunt for eating your Frazzles, what are you gonna call him when he fucks your girlfriend? It’s akin to the way horror films need to be more gory than the last to elicit any response from our cynical psyches – like notching up the voltage up on an EST machine. But horror films are nothing compared to nightmares. All the stuff that frightens you in real life is in there, all mixed up, which makes it even more fucking scary. Like just when you’re being chased by a manic killer, suddenly there’s your mother being shafted by an alien with an elderly, diseased version of your own face. With that in mind, would you care to rephrase your anecdote about not being able to find somewhere to park?

“It was a total nightmare!”

Was it? Is the fact you missed the train to London really comparable to the terrifying twisted imagery of a subconscious mind that is able to shit you up precisely because it KNOWS YOUR EVERY FEAR?

At least rappers and chavs have the audacity to make up words when they need them. It seems to work quite well up until the point where everyone else catches on and starts trying to sound ironically cool. However, not only do they supply the rest of us with a fresh stream of words, they also serve to resuscitate old ones (like bad, wicked, sick, etc). This is a fascinating but little-known scientific law. When enough rappers invert the meaning of a word for long enough, it is pushed in the opposite direction, undoing the effects of its prior exaggeration, thus leaving it fit for use once more. At which point the rapper will move on to something else, having performed his civic duty.

But it’s not enough. Language shouldn’t be bastardised in the first place, let alone de-bastardised. To rectify this problem I have taken it upon myself to devise a meritocratic system of language redistribution, which works as follows.

Every few years the Post Office will issue everyone on the electoral roll with a ‘permit to speak’. Those who have suffered genuinely traumatic experiences would be allocated a certain quota of suitably extreme words which could be used at their discretion – like high-scoring Scrabble letters. And vice versa. Thus someone who had lost their family in a shipping accident and been stranded on a barren island for a decade would be awarded 800 uses of ‘terrible’, ‘drowning’, ‘crazed despair’ and ‘aching loneliness’. Conversely, someone who mislaid their car keys for half an hour would get two ‘peeved’ and one ‘mild frustration’.

In addition, to ensure the permits were not abused, a small fine would be incurred if the survivor of the shipwreck ever spoke of their ‘crazed despair’ upon realising they had been overcharged for a carton of soup or that they’d left their scarf at the dentist. There are other foreseeable problems, of course, such as the likelihood that some of the more potent adjectives would find their way onto the black market. But even a semi-corrupt quasi-fascistic system of linguistic repression is preferable to overhearing pretty girls talking crap about Primarks.

McClusky’s in Kingston is an odd place for a band like Friendly Fires to play, in fact it’s an odd place for anyone to play. An accurate description would be a Wetherspoons with live music. To be fair the stage and dance floor could be any small venue in the world and for the euphoric art-house pop of one of 2008′s best breakthrough artists it worked pretty well.

Friendly Fires quietly slipped in last year, arriving after the initial wave of horribly dubbed ‘nu rave’ bands such as Klaxons and NYPC they managed to avoid all the tacky glow-stick hype and neon. Having seen what’s subsequently happened to Shit Disco and The Sunshine Underground and without trying to forge conspiracies perhaps it was no coincidence that it took them two years to produce their ten track self-titled debut album.

The album is a cracker and the band do a good job converting it to a live show. Lead singer Ed MacFarlane manages to transfer all the energy from the record. They open up with previous single, ‘Jump In The Pool’, the breakdown is reminiscent of late Talking Heads with its strong influence of world music, cowbells and all, which works well to get the crowd into it.

They continue to work through the high points of ‘Friendly Fires’, crowd favourites ‘Paris’ and ‘Photobooth’ have the crowd singing back them giving a real show of just how catchy  and uplifting the lyrics are. The chorus of ‘Paris’ allows MacFarlane to really let rip on the vocals and Edd Gibson’s synths sound almost E.L.O.-ish, it’s great stuff.

The pace is frenetic and impressively Friendly Fires manage to pull it off for the whole show, any lull is just a build up for a crescendo. ‘White Diamonds’ provides no finer example with the toe-tapping slowly building to foot stopping and by the time the hook comes in no one in the front is able to stand still. The penultimate track is twinkle-pop beauty ‘Strobe’ which really should have closed the set but with a single to promote they close with ‘Skeleton Boy.’ By this time the crowd have calmed down and serves as a reminder that Friendly Fires are by no means the finished article.

They’ll be back in London with the ‘NME Awards Tour’ at Brixton Academy on the 21^st of February and despite an inevitable hefty price for the corporate variety show a chance to see them shouldn’t be passed up lightly.

Tickets are available for all UK venues from seetickets

www.myspace.com/friendlyfires

Review: 13th February 2009

at The Prince Albert, 48 Trafalgar Street, Brighton, BN1 4ED

Upstairs at The Albert, a hop, skip and a jump from Brighton Railway Station, was another evening of quality music in the cosy, upstairs bar.  Opening the evening was Charlot Webster, a singer-songwriter armed with a half-size electric guitar or ukelele and backed up with a friend on drums, glockenspiel, keyboard and kazoo.  The first and most noticeable thing about Webster is her voice, which, within seconds, silenced the entire room; it’s somewhere between the quick, spritely and emotive tones of Fiona Apple and the dark, beguiling, jazzy sound of Cat Power, but more importantly it’s beautiful.  Fortunately the songs Webster sings are beautiful too, musically and lyrically, with melodies that ring around your head and inventive arrangments; though one track did get quite close to Kate Nash territory.

Second act Duke Raoul (a mixed up Hunter S. reference?) and though they had a tough act to follow they didn’t need to worry, their indie-pop sound was energetic and catchy and again bolstered by their lead-singer(Alex Painter)’s voice which was refreshing and, when required, stirring and powerful; especially on their penultimate song a rousing, slow-number that – for me – was the stand-out of their set.  Otherwise their upbeat indie didn’t fall into many of the pitfalls that a lot of current acts stagger blindly down and provided a pleasingly spiky mid-point to the night.

Closing the evening was Stars and Sons, who said they weren’t used to headlining an evening, but they did a damn fine job of it.  Their closest cousin, sound-wise, is Ben Folds Five, with lead-singer Mike Lord also hammering the keys of his piano, a lot of their songs really brought back memories of the early days of Ben Folds Five when their music was full of life, wit and noise.  Though they do bare a slight resemblence aurally, they did not feel like a rip-off and had an overall musical feel of their own, with songs exploding into life and the band performing them with visible passion and skill.

On a downside the audience were a little timid tonight, keeping their distance from the stage (a side-effect of the Albert’s seating plan), any newcomers to the venue throughout the evening masochistically forced themselves through the tightly tesselated crowd and made their way into any available nook at the back of the room.  Elsewhere there was a brilliantly stocked merchandise table, mainly crammed with the arts and crafts of Charlot Webster that included a ‘zine, CDs with hand-sewn packaging, framed artwork and a flip-book; also present was her mix-tape exchange, a charming lo-fi, retro concept where you bring a mix-tape you’ve made, drop it in a box and take one out in return and, fingers crossed, listen to some good music.

All in all the Albert has managed to host another great evening of music, this time showcasing three of the finest Brighton-based acts around at the moment.

I would like to begin by thanking the Hussy for giving me the opportunity to share my subtle yet profound thoughts with its readers.

My worldly experience does not amount to much, but that does not mean that I am not an important person. In fact it makes my opinions all the more important because they have not been tempered, softened or diluted by reason.

Actually to be honest, none of the words that I write are actually my own; yes- they come from my body as I tappity-tap on the keyboard but they did not start in my own brain. My head is actually filled with monkeys, but unfortunately not enough of them.

When I was a child then my father wanted to test the theory that an infinite number of monkeys given an infinite numbers of typewriters would begat great works of art. He was a genius; but mad. His plan was to miniaturise the beasts and create a habitat for them inside my skull. They were to have everything they needed for a productive life; banana trees, bunk beds, relaxations zones with table football games, pizza in the fridge and of course typewriters. Unfortunately, he forgot to take into account the size of my head. Instead of the planned infinite number, there was only room for 37 of the creatures.

Advances in technology have helped a little; the typewriters were replaced with laptops – which improved the qualitya great deal because monkeys are shit at spelling. But no amount of hi-tec can make up for a slack attitude. While I write this five of the little buggers are shagging and seven are asleep. In fact only one of them is really putting any effort in to writing.

And he just stopped.

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Showcasing unsigned musical talent from across the UK, the ‘Red Stripe Awards’ offer unsigned artists the chance of securing slots at three of this summer’s most celebrated festivals including Brighton’s very own ‘The Great Escape’. Boasting itself as ‘completely and utterly unbiased to trends’ the ‘Red Stripe Awards’ are true to their word. Although not quite WOMAD the promoters certainly went to an extra effort to offer something more diverse than the forefront of Brighton’s ‘indie pop’ epidemic.

Two piece act ‘The prjct myhm’ kicked off the show, multi-mentalist Captain Crunch was in charge of grimy dubstep drops while the lyrical bluntness of MC Princess Sections ensured all the underage kids in the room puked  when she announced ‘you want my DNA dumpster that’s what you gona’ get’. Just a bit more onstage unity between Princess and the Captain might’ve been what was needed to cement their brave and undeniably interesting concept.

Next up were ethereal electro pop act ‘The Blueskies’, demonstrating intellectual harmonies, and a fantastic gizmo that apparently turned the guitar into a violin, they were enough to win over any music geek in the crowd. A futuristic live soundscape with soulful yet withdrawn vocals makes them possibly the closest thing you could get to a soundtrack for a particularly emotional episode of Star Trek.    

‘BangBangBang!‘ however left the greatest impression of the night; it wasn’t so much that their predecessors lacked anything but possibly because furious, three-chord, guitar rape from the 90s seems brutally superimposed on the bureaucratic debauchery of the sheepishly coined ‘noughties’. The female fronted grunge trio, tantrumed and stomped all over the stage unfortunately receiving little sympathy from a decidedly pastoral looking crowd who perhaps would have been considering the practicalities of  on-stage safety belts had they not already been busying themselves queuing up for ear plugs.

No, seriously, as we all know too well now, health and safety is the essence of happiness, and as the front man of  final act ‘The Die Vibes’ vigorously yanked at the rail dividing him from the crowd I didn’t feel I could totally condone his risqué behavior. With Ricky ‘Kaiser’ charm and a chirpy wink for the audience, they are most definitely a peoples band. Fans in the crowd were singing along for most of the set and commendable in-between-song banter had the most cynical of punters trying desperately to purse their lips. So long as they keep their fringes beautifully aligned these boys have all the ingredients of perfect pop prowess. 

Words by Will Gore

 This article is an entry for the Beachdown writers competition 

A cynical parody voicing the cyclical nature of abusive relationships or  just the kind of weird-sexy fetish stuff you discovered on your second read through the pages of vice, privately noted as a ‘sado-masochist goldmine’ and then continued to sheepishly indulge in at the back of the bus. Florence and her machine pound through the blues in full rockabilly swing, raucously accounting for a few smashed plates, a broken leg and an incinerated mattress. With a soulful but perfectly misplaced voice reminding you of inappropriately applied bright lipstick ‘Kiss with a fist’ is perhaps reminiscent of KT Tunstall after she actually admitted to committing bestiality with her Black Horse.

Words by Will Gore

Komedia, Gardner Street, Brighton

Tucked away in the cosy studio bar at the back of the Komedia was a fun, acerbic and lively evening of poetry and spoken word from the monthly Hammer & Tongue banner.  Hosted by the charismatic duo of Rosy Carrick and Jonny Fluffypunk, they did a grand job of whipping the audience up into a suitably generous fervour with a pair of poems about love (one unrequited and eloquent, one filled to bursting with witty similies).

Local poet and storyteller Jamie Crawford took to the stage and delivered a well performed and mystical take on the moment a young Arthur pulls sword from stone and becomes King, an excerpt from a larger work, Crawford had the passion invested in his piece and a skill with delivery and performance; though the excerpt may have a been a tad familiar (as he even acknowledged) to open proceedings.

He was followed by Steve Tasane, a former Atomic Lip member, who opened his set with a staggeringly well realised tale of a poet pulled over by a policeman who goes on to discover the power of words as the planet is descimated by punctuation and grammar!  Tasane’s poetry has a strong rhythm and the energy clearly invested in his delivery (muscles tensed, face glowing red) inspired equally energetic responses.

The evening was bridged by the Open Slam, where nine poets had three minutes each to win the crowd over and earn points from five randomly appointed judges (of which I was one); the standard was extremely high tonight with poetry on subjects such as reverse origami, motherhood, super biscuits, broken friendships and words within words within words.  The winner goes on to the Grand (?) Slam in December, but, from the quality of work on display each and every poet will hopefully be returning to Open Mics and other events in the not-too-distant.

Australia’s Tug Dumbly closed the evening and bowled the audience over with his opening semi-autobiographical tale of a youthful event that scarred his perception of animals and religion, and probably shouldn’t be spoilt in this review!  His style flitted between darkly comic satire to incendiary diatribes to barmy little tales of violent breakfast cereals.  He had a great command over his words and performance and the audience lapped it up.

A grand, alternative way to spend an evening.  The next Hammer & Tongue is at the same hour, same place on March 5th and I truly hope to see you there!

www.komedia.co.uk/brighton

Review: 28th January 2009

at The Prince Albert, 48 Trafalgar Street, Brighton, BN1 4ED

Being new to Brighton I asked someone, as I finished watching soundchecks, if upstairs at the Prince Albert is a good place for live music.  They said, No.  From the standard of the three bands playing tonight they were wrong.

Opening the evening on this leg of a rotating-headliner tour was Video Nasties, a five-piece from London crafting catchy indie-pop with spiky flourishes.  They quickly won the crowd, oddly squashed around an array of tables and seats, with their chop-changing and energetic songs reminiscent of The Libertines covering Los Campesinos!  They hammered their instruments with a great deal of enthusiasm and a wonderful array of hairstyles.

Up next were Cardiff’s Threatmantics (they either followed me to Brighton, or I followed them).  This unique folk-rock trio distort nursery-rhymes through a wall of guitar noise, battered drums and plonking keyboard and screeching, or tender, viola, with lead-singer Heddwyn Davies trilling about such things as apple trees or little birds.  Their songs are instantly catchy, playing around memorable hooks and then distorting and warping them or doing a complete 180 and switching from innocence to angry and back again.  Their debut mini-album Upbeat Love is highly recommended.

Swanton Bombs were tonight’s finale, a lead-singer/guitarist and a drummer, unleashing angular, scruffy indie post-punk with charm and smart arrangments.  Like a half-size The Clash, their songs are oddly buoyant and see them channeling the spirit of 80s alternative through a modern filter.  Live lead-singer Dominic twitches and coos around the mic, stabbing at his guitar and drummer Brendan is an alarming counterpoint as his arms flail around his drum-kit with elastic flexibility.

A jaunty, cacophony of noise which juxtaposes awkwardly against the seating layout and the bizzare choices for between band music.  And, looking ahead on the Prince Albert’s MySpace, one of a numer of appealing gigs coming to this little nook above a very pleasant little bar tucked away just behind the train station.

Shannon Mathews commerative plate by Simon Harvey

 True, the corporate take-over of any and every festivity from Diwali to Halloween by companies who like to plastic wrap, suger-coat and market any celebration into another consumer-frenzied ‘event’ can be a little depressing.

 As can the glaring disparity between the West and the majority world, beamed into our homes nightly; images of famine and poverty while we sit on comfy sofas drinking wine (or cans – I know it’s not only the sophisticated literati who like to keep abreast of the news.)

Or take the definition of materialism itself. Solitary acquisition of more and more ‘things,’ status symbols and their objectification – all deepening that isolating step away from what really and ultimately matters: well being, contentment, community, and love.

 Yet all is not lost. For out of the dodgy depths of the Iron Lady’s favourite things – consumerism, materialism and environmental disdain, has sprung a simple concept and strong community spirit that is having massive and far-reaching practical and philosophical results.

 If I told you a network existed where you could ask for something you needed and a kindly soul would then give it to you gratis, you’d probably think I’d had too many glasses of vino. Sadly, that’s not the case.

 Freecycle.org is “an electronic forum where members ‘recycle’ unwanted items” -

i.e. give away things they no longer need or want for free. With a motto of “changing the world one gift at a time” it seems altruism is more than just a word in the dictionary. Sorry Maggie!

 A grassroots movement that came out of Tucson, Arizona, three years ago (I know, America who’d have thought!) freecycle.org seized the global conscience with its inspiring launch statement: “Our mission is to build a worldwide gifting movement that reduces waste, saves precious resources & eases the burden on our landfills while enabling our members to benefit from the strength of a larger community.”

With 2,779,211 members worldwide and 3,825 groups in over 50 countries, the idea has clearly become a reality, and at least 55 tonnes of unwanted goods have been kept out of landfill and now live in happy homes.

Membership is free although you do need to have a yahoo account to sign up. Groups are also moderated by local volunteers – probably to check some capitalist doesn’t turn the forum into an off-shoot of e-bay. The main rule of freecycle to remember is that everything must be free, legal (damn it) and appropriate for all ages. Postings are then split into ‘offered’, ‘taken’, ‘wanted’, and ‘received’ with collection of items sorted off the forum.

In the ‘freecycle’ spirit, newcomers should post an offer first of all. And for those of you who want to ask for everything Santa never got you, bear in mind that luxury goods like laptops and DVD players are out. Trades are a no-no as are recycling shy friends and children. (That’s from the site not me!)

 Offers from my local Brighton-based group this week range from TVs, pushchairs, clothes, surf magazines, a key cabinet, “a metal thing for the TV”, paint, and padded envelopes. But remember this is Brighton, so we have… a Mazda car manual, bags of coal, retro skates, green carpet tiles and “eight different coloured double and treble-nibbed felt tip pens” (these went quick sharp!), a U-reg Peugeot car (with a later posting apologising as the car had been towed away by the council) a porcelain kitchen sink, and ” A toilet bowl. White, used but serviceable, approx six years old.”

 Wanted postings cover Buffy DVDs, a doll’s house to decorate, fishing rods, floorboards, rain butt and pallets, and a mooncup “preferably the larger size”.  Cardboard boxes it seems, transcends all categories appearing in both offered and wanted listings.

The ethos clearly is to nurture the ole community spirit, which it has to be said in our oh so busy lives, is often scarce. That and the fact we live in a materialistic society that constantly pushes the latest gadgets and fads at us, the vulnerable consumer, the site forces us to think about what we buy, use and actually need. Toilet-bowl anyone?

See www.Freecycle.org for more info

Words: Monica Perdoni

Presidential Moves
 

George W. Bush and George H.W. Bush – W. (2008) 

 We kick off with a real double-whammy in Oliver ‘Mad Dog’ Stone’s surprisingly gentle dissection of the man perhaps best described by Russell Brand as ‘that retard cowboy fella’. Not only do we get Josh Brolin’s expertly mannered turn as Dubya, but there’s plenty of room left over for James Cromwell – who plays Lyndon Johnson in both the 2002 TV Movie ‘RFK’ and the upcoming ‘Flying Into Love’ as well as fictional presidents in ‘The West Wing’ and the latter-day jack Ryan romp ‘The Sum of All Fears’ (‘02) – to steal the show as George Snr. Both manage the extraordinary task of making a pair of shitkicking warmongers seem somewhat sympathetic*. 

* Lefty website slams Bush administration – Stop Press!!! 
 
 
 
 Bill Clinton – Contact (1997) 

 Media-shy shut-in Bill Clinton played himself Robert Zemeckis’s drawn-out cosmic think piece about extra-terrestrial communication. He only has his chubby, red face onscreen for a moment or two during a television address, and even that – to be fair – could be easily mistaken for stock footage, but he is the only president to have played themself (or, indeed, anyone else) on the silver screen. Rumours that Richard Nixon has an uncredited cameo in Woody Allen’s ‘Bananas’ (’71) remain unsubstantiated. 

Ronald Reagan – Airplane II: The Sequel (1982) 

 It says much about the mood of the time that the only celluloid outing for the Rocket Ronnie was left on the cutting room floor of the harebrained, scattershot, anything goes sequel to cinema’s most enduring spoof. Essayed by world-class grouch Rip Torn – best known for playing Larry Sanders’ boss on TV and Will Smith’s boss in the ‘Men In Black’ films – we can only speculate as to the result, but as Reagan himself was a B-movie actor of note in projects as varied as Don Siegel’s vicious caper flick ‘The Killers’ (1964) and bizarre monkey business ‘Bedtime for Bonzo’ (1951), perhaps the man himself had already done enough to earn his big screen stripes. 

Jimmy Carter and Gerald R. Ford – Hot Shots! Part Deux (1993) 

 More spoofery is afoot in the unasked for sequel to Charlie Sheen-starring ‘Rambo’ send up ‘Hot Shots!’ (’91). Passable look-alikes Ed Beheler and Larry Lindsay are required to do little more than stand on the White House lawn and allow Lloyd Bridges to whale on them with a rusty shovel. That Carter was also a farmer and Ford is slapstick godhead Homer Simpson’s favourite president lend the scene a sly post-modern wit much lacking in the rest of the film.

  Richard Milhous Nixon – Secret Honour (1984) 

 Currently being fleshed out by Frank Langella in Ron Howard’s ‘Frost/Nixon’, the most complex and compelling 20^th Century American president has been played by such diverse actors as grandstanding Welsh garbler Anthony Hopkins (who also delivers the world’s longest, most hand-wringing speech of all time as former prez John Quincy Adams in Spielberg’s ‘Amistad’ (1997)) and hirsute Brooklyn Jew Dan Hedaya – best known as Carla’s scumbag husband in ‘Cheers’. But it is Philip Baker Hall who takes the laurels for revealing the full extent of Nixon’s mania in Robert Altman’s ‘Secret Honour’. Pacing around in his study armed with a revolver and a bottle of hooch, Baker delivers a ninety-minute monologue that reveals the true ends of power. 

Lyndon Johnson – The Right Stuff (1984) 

Plymouth’s favourite son Donald Moffat is no stranger to the Oval Office. He memorably warned Harrison Ford not to ‘come in here and bark at me like some jumped-up junkyard dog’ in ‘Clear and Present Danger’ (’94), played Roosevelt in ‘Eleanor and Franklin: The White House Years’ (’77) and is a regular visitor to ‘The West Wing’. But it was as then Vice-President Lyndon Johnson in Philip Kaufman’s majestic history of the ‘Mercury 7’ astronauts that he really caught the eye. Stentorian in his Stetson and righteously miffed not to be allowed to press the flesh with John Glenn’s nervous wreck of a wife, LBJ descends into a fit of childish pique and starts smashing the place up. 
 

John F. Kennedy – Thirteen Days (2000) 

Enduring liberal icon or the serial philandering son of a mobbed-up bootlegger? – JFK seems more divisive as the years go by. Onscreen he is usually a scion of hope and a touchstone for well-intentioned ideals, but Kevin Reynolds’ superb 2000 drama ‘Thirteen Days’ gives a far more complete picture of the man who somehow steered America – and his own administration – through the Cuban missile crisis. The redoubtable Bruce Greenwood (who also played the Chief Exec in Nicolas Cage howler ‘National Treasure: Book of Secrets’ (2007)) lets a natty haircut and mercifully gentle Boston accent do the spade work and gets on with an investigation of moral courage in which Jack doesn’t come up smelling entirely of roses… 

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