London is a sprawl of intellectual and cultural stimulation. But it’s also the only place I have visited and lived where the image exported is incongruous to the reality.
It’s an eclectic transatlantic social cocktail at London’s Guards Polo Club. The British Polo Association have extended the invitation to the cousins from across the pond, and subsequently Boston’s pedigrees look like they’ve stopped by at Manhattan Saddlery and cleared them out of rubber wellies and faux tweed. The British, naturally, are wearing their great-grandfathers kit.
Sartorial statements have always been the backbone of Fashion Week, never more so than in London with its eclecticism and explosion of creative talent. Yet the humble accessory has demanded focus this season. From crocs to ornate headpieces, these were the breakout accessories that stuck to mind…
I’m currently standing on the icy stoned marbled floor of my bathroom in a face-off with the Victorian sink. It’s an enormous cream vessel with a leaky tap and a cantankerous temper, choosing occasionally to pamper to my wintered soul and provide some lukewarm water. To me, it signifies London: grandiose, bygone and callous. London’s not very nice to its people and the London natives by default are permanently petulant and irritated. Just like my sink.
“I once slept with an Aussie who worked for an AIDS charity and I had to pressure him to wear a condom… Maybe they’re not the smartest tools in the shed.”
Throughout the inauguration of Donald Trump we witnessed many things. Mass protesting, controversy over crowd size and Melania’s frown/smile. An eclectic mix, and while Trump was hit with a torrid of protest, his female entourage remained relatively unscathed.
Continue reading “White House Wives on Screen”
Art has always been a powerful visual canvas. Politics, identity, sexuality, poverty, despair, war – art speaks and shows where words and speeches fall short.
Continue reading “Powerful LGBTQ Identities in Art”
Perched on a plastic toilet seat and closeted in the stockroom of his uncle’s hardware shop in North London, John Costi explains what it is like to be a white boy in a juvenile prison.