A Fine Balance

Sadly this is not a review of the Rohinton Mistry novel, but about a struggle to maintain a fine balance between the classic high and low cultural divide.

A few weeks ago while being in the midst of a painfully boring fashion crisis and having to attend the Deutsche Borse Photography Awards ceremony I happened once again upon my craving for the so called 'low culture'.

Since the start of 2009 when I decided that I thought that the London world of publishing, more specifically art publishing was where I wanted to be I have pushed and pushed myself into internships and interviews and oh so finally a fab job. And all the while meeting people who talk at me about various photographers/artists whom I know nothing about. While this says alot about my ability to bullshit what I have also discovered if my utter love for reality tv and macs.I spent the first two weeks in this new fab job spending my lunch hour craving fried chicken and episodes of Jeremy Kyle.

And so the tables have turned, in many temp jobs I have been met with shock at reading a book, confused looks at the fact I go to the theatre twice a month and then, entering the arts and media world, my arts knowledge and personal taste does not stack up, at no point can you admit to the md of a publishing house that you love Abba and think that Mamma Mia is fantastic fun, (I did this, it was not met well) and I sit in the office with bizarre brazilian music blaring out of my colleagues computers unable to admit that the last album I bought was the glee soundtrack (It was and I love it).

So my resolve is to balance in secret, I stay mute at work to my real personal tastes, to shop and watch the x factor (I have even been known to join in with making fun of JLS while humming 'Beat Again' in my head).

After four glasses of expensive champers at The Photographers Gallery and watching a £30,000 prize being doled out, I fled to Macdonalds and put on the wicked soundtrack all the way home. After HOST's book launch, Tony and I ate bacon sarnies on her kitchen floor and drew pictures in the bin and following my easter break of three galleries and two plays I have watched an entire series of America's Next Top Model (cycle 13 and the first two of 14- go Tyra) and put on Chez Cole and Beyonce. Not that I will relay this info to my boss.

But it is decided - if I get found out and forced out of this arts world with shouts of 'You like what?' I will start my very own cheesecake factory - cause I made one of those this easter too. And it was damn fine.

The Concrete Jungle where Dreams are made of

I felt I should write about how utterly awesome the city of New York is. I am aware that many many people already know this and many many people discovered its awesomeness well before I was even conceived of - but I have just discovered its complete awesomeness and would like to live there forever more (until I want to escape city life and move to the San Juan Islands).

on February 8th 2010 I went for the first time and spent eight days gazing skywards in awe (a take on the word awesome, at some point during this blog I may stop using the word awesome but don't hold you're breath). I am now going to list why it is so awesome and how I know:

1. It has AMAZING bars and restaurants: Angel Share, PDT, Pastis, 21 club, Beauty Bar, Serendipity 3.
2. JAZZ: the village vanguard monday night Vanguard Jazz Orchestra
3. MADISON SQ GARDENS (where we saw a proposal on the big screen) need I say more?
4. Snow in Central Park & just Central Park
5. Galleries galleries galleries (all of them you know, but The Gugenheim and Tino Sehgal)
6. Shopping, vintage in the East Village, high street on Union Sq and in Chelsea and man-oh-man Saks 5th Avenue designer sale!
7. the tourist bundle - Islands Liberty and Ellis; Bridges, Brooklyn and Manhattan; Skyscrapers, Rockefeller, Chrysler and oh Empire State; Streets, wall, 42nd, broadway and 5th; Squares, washington, union and TIME,
8. Broadway - well Wicked, and it was "wicked" (or awesome, in case you forgot how much I love the word awesome)
9. Chelsea - In particular the Chelsea Market, where I bought awesome freshly ground coffee and left it in the hotel.
10. East Village, Cafe Reggio and Andy's Cheepies, where apparently I look like Andy's granddaughter Charlotte. AWESOME
11. BRYANT PARK, for the last ever Bryant Park New York Fashion Week!!

so that is 11 awesome things about NYC - and there is more, and in one of those days I had food poisoning and took to my bed to watch Courtney Cox's THS.

I bought a fedora, some brogues and ALOT of other stuff including cheesecake.

Anyway, I must stop procrastinating and return to the passover preparations, we have chocolate covered Matzos and Kneidl to make.

and I did re do double denim - at work - no trikes. AND IT WORKED. awesome.

Double Denim

This week I tried it. Over Mother's Day Weekend while back home (in a sophisticated house where papers are actually delivered daily)I was reading various style sections and came to the best news of the weekend, that double denim is do-able without looking like a desperate nineties charater or 'arse-man'(a local mancunian celebrity, recognised only by the double denim, eyeliner and endless bum-poking-out-swagger up and down market street. Sadly I hear he moved back to Greece two years ago, and, I suspect, will never read this).

What joy! Nay, not one month ago I had stumbled upon a fab denim jacket and have had that dubious fear of pairing it with any other denim item. On wednesday night, having played it tragically safe in the dress department, I made a decision...Thursday night would be the night, safe at a book launch with a good mix of arty types who mix anything and those who actually don't look below the glasses to the clothing.

So the look was formed, charcoal jeans, salmon (although i will ever loathe calling an exquistite top salmon) silk top and DENIM JACKET. Daring I know, but there it is. And it worked!

Until Host foiled my plan and had apparently forseen a possible fashion disaster, turned up the heat and I had to take the jacket off.... leaving me again, in a tragically safe outfit. DARN YOU!

But the attempt was there, and it will be made again, maybe while i ride a trike.

Trikey

As I trundled my suitcase up the drive to work this morning I was greeted with very confused looks as no one could understand why I would approach work on wheels. Thankfully the look was fleeting as the sight of a wheely case explained all.

And my co workers were right to be confused, I wouldn't cycle, not in this huge-io city, far too scary. I'm a walker. But it dawned on me what else I could be! I could shed public transportation and these boots-that-definitely-weren't-made-for-walking-but-i'll-bloodywell-wear-them-anyway and become a tricyclist! Why did we ever regress from three wheels back to two? Imagine the ease of tricycling, in a seat and not a saddle (with a back rest no less) with those two stabilising back wheels ensuring you don't get that traffic light wobble/balance on the tippiest point of the big toe.

And just look at this vespa-a-like pink trike - isn't it the coolest thing ever. please oh please can we invest in an extra wheel and hark back to the safe childhood days of stabilisers.

And If all else fails and I can't find the best most beautifulist trike, maybe made by schwinn, I think I may just buy a robin reliant.

Aces.