These are the things making me smile this Spring…
One thing I love, and it isn’t a new thing, but something I’ve been obsessed by for years, is when Londoners put ‘The’ in front of a road name. For example, someone from London doesn’t just say ‘King’s Road’ they say ‘The King’s Road’. I love anything which is intrinsically and traditionally ‘London’. I love the people, the streets, and buildings, and parks, I love London as a living entity, and so I love anything which makes you instantly aware of its own metropolitan authenticity. It’s like music to me, that intoxicating London lilt; ‘Where did you see him, Bill?’, ‘I saw him down The Tottenham Court Road’.
This picture was taken backstage at a production of Rocky Horror, at The King’s Road Theatre, in 1976. It embodies the King’s Road atmosphere and reputation for punks, theatre and creativity.
I love this quote, which I found with the photograph; “Back again. This time, the first ‘West-End’ production at The Comedy Theatre, re-staged by the original director, Jim Sharman. It was only towards the end of this run that we noticed a strange phenomenon; American tourists who seemed to think they were part of the show started shouting out stuff, much to their own amusement …
We just thought they were twats.”
The photo is a beautifully typical snapshot of unseen London life, one of those moments that happens with people who aren’t beautiful, aren’t scripted, but are alive in a room together, somewhere down a dark street in London. This brings me onto my second item…
I love the moments in life, the moments that aren’t planned and often only seen by one person, or a few, which are breathtakingly beautiful. I was on the train today, it was early evening, about five o’clock. I was listening to The Cure, looking out of the train window at fields which were green, shining with the rain that had been falling earlier in the day, in bright sunshine. The carriage was quiet and empty, and it was a beautiful moment. I think I may have written about this before, but just in case I haven’t… Last year, early in the summer, I was walking the Dog, and I turned onto the Heath, just as the sun was setting, and I looked out across the fields of horses, and boys playing football, and the empty Heath, just as For Lovers by Pete Doherty started playing in my earphones. I feel like a pompous prig for saying this, but that moment almost made my cry.
I recently wrote in a poem;
What about the English air
steeped in home-cooked chip fat
in late-afternoon sun,
and that place in the Colosseum
where every wayfarer stands to have their photograph taken?
Moments of well-worn summer
like comfortable clothes
in the quietness of a moment alone,
an outfit that no-one will see,
a minute’s picture-idyll,
the light catching the natural arrangement of blonde hair,
like cotton against your legs
that only you will feel.
Being short in height and somewhat rotund, it isn’t easy to find clothes which are flattering. In my head I look like a Jack Wills model, in reality I look like a Julie Walters character. However, I recently found a pair of trousers which I like. I always believed that I could only get away with certain things, and that I couldn’t go near anything chic or stylish, but these trousers are chic. They were from Zara, around £22, which is a bargain in my eyes. I love them, and will wear them all summer.
(I’ll add a picture to this Blog when I don’t have a towel on my head).