Wearing your heart on you chest

I DO love a good ‘slogan tee’, many a dreary depressing day has been brightened by a gem of a t-shirt passing me on the street.

I saw a brilliant one today, ‘I’m a legend in Japan’ declared the shirt of an inconspicuous looking boy. As soon as I see something like that my mind goes into over drive; I cannot help but imagine the chubby, be-stubbled, baggy jeaned being trudging down the British Library steps as a ‘legend in Japan’. How is he a legend? I suspect perhaps a rock star with a pair of Elton John jazzy glasses…in some high heeled pointy cowboy boots, and spiked up hair. There are hundreds of Japanese clamouring to click their cameras at him, they will try and force their way into the photo and do the peace sign. He is proud but kind. And then he flies back to London and does a spot of studying in the British Library.

Slogan t-shirts used to be terribly political. When Katharine Hamnett made her baggy white sloganed creations in the early 80s the phrases had purpose, ‘CHOOSE LIFE’ the black block letters screamed, and later there were t-shirts with direct references to war (and of course ‘FRANKIE SAY RELAX’ , so commercialised and famous you will find it in Primark). That brave woman has spawned hundreds of cheap manufactures who are mass producing the most ridiculous phrases they can muster.

The best example I have at this is from a hot summers Reading Festival. I was but 16 and it was the year of the slogan. ‘I KILL BADGERS WITH SPOONS’. Really? And Animal cruelty is nothing to shout about! But that skin head loved it! I wonder what possessed him to pick up that t-shirt from what ever hovel he bought it. What went through his mind?

But the best, a fat boy with small round sunglasses ‘WHO’S THE DADDY?’. I wanted to tap his should and confirm he was indeed the daddy. I wish I had.

I DO love a good slogan tee.

!Smash And Grab! Punk 13.03.08

With this weeks Smash and Grab being advertised as 'Vogue week' I was powerless to resist. Yes my dissertation is lacking 10,000 words (any words), yes I have £5 left of my hideously low weekly budget but I have seen America's Next Top Model, and I want to Vogue!
Sadly we arrive too late for the lessons. Some girls are DJing, I'm afraid I'm too lazy to research whom exactly. 'How many blondes does it take to change a CD?' quipped my friend over skipping music and too long breaks between songs, oh dear although catchy they certainly not flawless.
Outside for a cigarette and hoards of Pararazzi flash away at someone I can't see. 'Pixie Geldolf' I hear on the smokers grapevine, and then rather amusingly hear someone try answer her friends question 'who is Pixie Geldolf?'. My sentiments exactly. Then, Mark Ronson arrives! Hurrah! I am fond of him after seeing him various times around Camden and Shoreditch, each time admiring his good looks. He is wearing a dashing blue suit, I approve.
I must say, the man can DJ. In a world where being a celeb DJ consists of putting on a well liked tune it is impressive to hear someone who can actually mix. Bravo. I can't remember exactly what songs he played, rather surprising considering a tiny tiny spirit and mixer was £4, but let me say, they were the sorts of songs you forget you know but know really well? Also, he did some of his own with fresh mixes, definitely crowd pleasers.
The plush red seat part of Punk has been labelled 'Happy Birthday Room' but late into the night security gets tight for no apparent reason. The next day I read the reason in the London Lite. It is Peaches Geldolf's Birthday and she was angry that too many normal folk were being let into her room. Ok, firstly I find it hilarious that after her hissy fit at the bouncer her boyfriend Faris Rotter was not let back it the room after going to the toilet. Secondly, if it is your birthday why would you sit in a small room for the duration of your stay at a club? You may as well be in your living room, at least you would have a TV and drinks would not cost £4.
As night went on, I lent a pretty girl my Chanel lippy and it turned out to be Zoniel who runs Smash and Grab. She kindly says I may ask her for guestlist whenever I wish. Lucky I had that extra lipstick in my bag as I must confess, preferring the 'dead' look of late I have been using concealer as lipstick
My friend Ben persuades me not to rack up some drinks on my poor abused credit card and we eventually leave with Lily Allen and Agness Deyn in the DJ box with Ronson.
I do a pathetic heels run to the bus stop and catch the 390 where I talk to a law student about the perils of not securing your favoured seat in the library . Take 205 in the British Library and prepare to die.
(Photo by www.dirtydirtydancing.com)