“That’s what the early spring smells like”

Wow…just wow. What an amazing idea and how brilliantly executed. I think we can safely say Hornbach have set themselves apart from their competition in the DIY category…

“I write for myself…no ghosty”

How good is this?!

Can’t stop watching it.

I’m loving the Jamaican dancehall vibe across what – I think – is a meta lyrical theme about the boastfulness of MCs. (I can’t get the lines “fling a ragga ridim like it’s 03” out of my head).

The super-entertaining video, by Henry Scholfield, is brilliant fun, and handles the MC baton changes so slickly and cleverly.

And could Idris Elba be any cooler? Love his toasting (and long red coat) on this.

The whole thing feels proper London.

(Thanks Nat x)



This is such an amazing film about creativity and what it means to be truly creative.

Massively inspiring in that it shows how talent, determination, self-belief and hard work took a working class kid all the way from the streets of East London to the top of the fashion world.

Stunning in its coverage of his incredible, mind-blowing art – I came away thinking he’s massively under-rated.

And a heart-breaking treatise on the life sentence that abuse condemns its victims to and the tragic insecurity/loneliness that can come with such a singular talent.

If you’re interested in creativity…MASSIVE RECOMMEND.

It’s Not Too Late

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Insomniac City by Bill Hayes is a beautiful, moving treatise on his deep love affairs with the neurologist Oliver Sacks and the streets of New York City. Grieving over the sudden death of his partner, Hayes moves to New York to start a new chapter of his life. A lifelong insomniac, he wanders the streets at night with his camera, either basking in the neon loneliness or connecting with homeless poets, misfit supermodels and booze-hound attorneys: the lost, the lonely and the utterly lashed.

It’s kind of a journal of psycho-geographical meanderings but at the core of the narrative is the story of how a writer and scientist fall unexpectedly in love. Hayes was in his late 40s and broken-hearted; Sacks was in his mid-70s, had never been in a relationship and had also never come out publicly as being gay. But, with silent yet all-knowing skyscrapers, the steady rumbling of all-night trains and uncanny haikus of blue-collar philosophers as a magical backdrop, the two connect in a deeply passionate, spiritual way.

When Oliver Sacks gets sick, there’s a poignant sense of missed opportunity, a sadness for the fact that, for all its joy, late love carries with it a subtext of not getting to spend a lifetime together. But Sacks is less concerned with regret or fear and more obsessed with savouring this new-found emotion and sucking all the marrow out of life. As beautifully demonstrated by the epigram in the picture above.

As a lover of the drama of big cities, an ardent NewYorkophile (is that a word??) and a hopeless old romantic, I can’t recommend this highly enough.

My Head Hurts

I’ve been staring at this for over a week now and I still have absolutely no idea what it says…

happy til not happy

This is one of the funniest things in the history of funny things


Have a listen to this. Brilliant idea, perfect performances and timing. My favourite bit: “One of the towers…the other tower…the tower I’m in is collapsing…I’m collapsing Chris, under the sheer…I’ve managed…I’m out! I’m out!” 😆😆😆

Here is ANOTHER man who would not take it anymore…

For a worrying period in my late teens my biggest role model was Travis Bickle. The ultimate socially awkward street crusader, he was an unhinged avenging angel who prayed that “some day a real rain will come and wash all the scum off the streets”. Typical weather forecaster – he got that wrong – but when the rain didn’t come, he decided to get out into the neon-bathed, sleaze-infested alleyways behind Times Square and clean them up himself with a jet-hose. Well, a Smith & Wesson 36, Colt Detective Special and Walter PPK.

Sitting in my crappy rented flat overlooking a drab suburban high street waiting for a starter pistol to go off and life to properly begin, I played my Taxi Driver VHS over and over until the tape wore out. I was in love with the saturated colours and the symbolism, the Bernard Hermann soundtrack that dialled up the melodrama to 11 and suggested everyday life could be intense and meaningful. I didn’t go as far as getting a mohawk haircut and driving a cab around the mean streets of Essex but if I’d have had some electric clippers and a driving licence at the time, who knows what might have happened?

I mention all this not just to reminisce fondly about my days as a teenage nutcase hyped up on existentialist literature and cheap lager but because I recently watched a brilliant film called First Reformed which might just as well have been titled Taxi Driver 2. It’s not about a veteran of the Iraq War who returns home and struggles to settle into life as an Uber driver. But, written and directed by Paul Schrader, the legendary writer of Taxi Driver, it follows the same story and trajectory as the original: alienated man with tragic past keeps poignant yet alarming diary documenting his increasingly fragile state of mind as he hurtles towards physical and philosophical implosion.

This time, instead of Robert De Niro as a NYC cabbie, the (anti)hero is Ethan Hawkes as a priest at a small church in upstate New York. And rather than urban sleaze and child prostitution, his bete noire is the environmental rape of the planet by Big Business. But just like Travis Bickle, Father Toller is God’s lonely man, a tightly wound rubber band about to snap at any moment, a troubled, volatile rebel with a righteous cause (and a killer hangover). I genuinely wouldn’t have been surprised if Father Toller had knocked back a couple of Alka Seltzer and jotted down in his notebook the famous words, “Listen you f*ckheads, you screwheads. Here is a man who would not take it anymore. A man who stood up against the scum, the c*nts, the dogs, the filth, the shit. Here is a man who stood up…”

The other key things I’ve always loved about Taxi Driver are its surreal, almost transcendental tone and brilliantly ambiguous ending. Both of these elements are present and correct in First Reformed. I don’t want to spoil it so I won’t go into details but there’s a scene two thirds of the way through where the boundaries between reality and fantasy are torn down and scrunched into a kind of magic realism that blew my mind and broke my heart at the same time. And just like Taxi Driver’s infamous did-that-really-happen?! ‘happy’ ending, the final scene of First Reformed is shot with ‘interpret it your own way’ metaphysical mentalism.

On top of all that, First Reformed is really something to look at. The cinematography is somehow both beautiful and bleak and the burnt out grade evokes an unsettling yet strangely moving atmosphere throughout, much like my favourite Jean-Luc Godard film, Eloge de l’Amour.

Battling his tragic past, ever-present demons, rapidly-fading faith in God and the unstoppable march of the corporate machine, at one point Father Toller writes/says, “I know that nothing can change and I know there is no hope.” It’s harsh and fatalistic but it’s not the core theme of the film. As with Taxi Driver, this is visceral stuff and the vibe mood-swings up and down, but I took the ultimate message to be this: life can be harsh but there is positivity and redemption to be found in a noble mission and the healing power of genuine human connection.

Powerful stuff, highly recommended and definitely deserves multiple viewings. If I had it on VHS, I’d wear the tape out.