Category: Britain

London Snapshot (Apres Paris)

“London has the trick of making its past, its long indelible past, always a part of its present.”
― Anna Quindlen, Imagined London: A Tour of the World’s Greatest Fictional City
Paris posts are coming, ducklings, but it’s been an exhilarating whirlwind of a weekend and a jam packed full Monday getting back into the swing of things. Ergo like the traveling tease I am, you have a wait another day to see the evidence of our adventures. In the meantime, I bring you this peace offering: a first of the morning view from Craven Street just off Trafalgar Square and glancing down at the Thames.

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Generator London Relaunch

“See the world. It’s more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories. Ask for no guarantees, ask for no security.”
― Ray Bradbury

On Thursday I was invited to attend the relaunch party of Generator London hostel. That’s right, I was on the guestlist. I’ve arrived, kittens.

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And in case you think this sounds a bit of a strange launch, let me tell you, this place knows how to throw a party! Open bars, signature cocktails, and some seriously impressive taco canapes. DJs, live bands, mingling, oh my!
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That might be the most British concoction I’ve ever seen in my life. As for the food!
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My favorite was the chicken, I wasn’t even subtle about trailing a server at one point to get at them.

The relaunch follows a year of redesign work to upgrade the property and better manage their room space – no small feat. I’ve been through a number of hostels and this is by far the nicest I’ve seen in recent memory.
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The design feel is supposed to be easy, fun, casual, urban, and the tiniest bit silly. Mission accomplished. The floor levels are all inspired by the highest of British character inspiration, Ali G you’ll notice has the place of honor. Each floor contained original spray painted artwork of phrases, figures, and allusions, and inspiration from each of the floor themes and I had quite a bit of fun wandering through the halls to find them.
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The Bond floor was probably my favorite, because who doesn’t want to be greeted by a gun-and-martini-wielding stick figure, but minions know there was one floor I had to visit…
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I found a PR person who was willing to take me on a tour of the upgrades and give me the details. This place boasts over 800 beds, and it’s not even their largest property!
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Her name is Antonia and she’s a doll! We chatted about travel and she told me about the other Generator properties in Europe, including an upgrade in Paris that will house 1000 beds. My mind can’t even consider the laundry requirements. She even let me peek into the new rooms and snap a few shots.
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This is one of about twenty two person rooms, most contain four beds divided between two bunks. Each bed has a metal and padlocked storage bin to store beneath it large enough to fit an American sized suitcase (saying something…countrymen, we do not acquit ourselves well when it comes to “packing light” by European standards), and the walls are painted in geometric patterns of bright custard yellow, turquoise, charcoal and cheerful red. Like most hostels, the bathrooms and showers are communal; unlike most hostels I’ve been in, there are multiple on every floor!

The property itself used to be a police building (I just can’t get away from police stations, I must accept my fate!) and so the facade has been preserved to reflect it’s history, but I think they’ve done a good job of upgrading the space. Aside from the night I spent in a haunted castle turned hotel in Ireland, this might be the most fun I’ve ever had in a hostel. Speaking of…
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I was down my plus one, since Jeff was in Peterborough, but I popped into the photobooth anyway to grab a souvenir for my beloved corkboard. Add it to the tacos and it was a great night all around, I’m so glad Generator invited me for my first real [re]launch party. I’m quite official these days, ducklings.

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Vintage Shopping in Cheshire Street

“In the fashion industry, everything goes retro except the prices.”
― Criss Jami

One of my finds during the other weekend’s adventurous rambles was Cheshire Street in Whitechapel. Like other areas that have drawn specific immigrant groups in the past, this part of town has become the home base for a lot of the Bengladeshi immigrants coming to London over the last few decades, and many of the street signs reflect this. Which is initially what caught my eye.

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Turning the corner to glance down I spotted a rack or two of  vintage wares on the pavement so I started down to have a look. And then I realized that shop after shop after shop, all the way down the street, was dedicated to vintage clothing, accessories, textiles, and lifestyle items. I spent at least an hour just going through them and doing some fantasy shopping for myself and friends.

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The shops specialize quite nicely, some deal with everyday clothing and some deal strictly in couture and designer wear which was fun to just rifle through and fantasize over. I was tempted by a cloche style hat from the 1930s but really couldn’t justify it – especially when it felt so warm and bright out. Oh right, and poverty. That too.

This rack is entirely filled with homemade, totally unique simple kitchen aprons that I know for a fact that some of The Girls would simply die over – Amy and Jess, behold your probable future Christmas/birthday present!

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The owners were all incredibly friendly. Where some of the designers at markets, understandably, don’t want you to photograph their creations, the vintage shop owners let me snap shots with abandon!

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Vintage is not everyone’s thing, and admittedly it’s only mine to a degree (as much as I commit myself to buying quality second hand, some decades’ silhouettes are simply not for me!), but it is a lot of fun to explore and look through. And occasionally you do find a steal which does make the search worth it. Anyone willing for a full on raid of this street on any given weekend, hit me up, I’ll gladly show you my new favorite haunts!

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Palate Cleanser – Cute Animals! The Internets Demand Them!

“Don’t raise your voice, improve your argument.”
― Ret. Archbishop Desmond Tutu

I like impromptu Incendiary Mondays, I think I’ll keep them around – if nothing else, I’m delighted that the comments I get for them are so nuanced and insightful! I actively like being disagreed with by intelligent people who make their case well and force me to consider and defend my own. And since that’s what makes up the minion coterie, you brilliant, beautiful bunch, I’ll take advantage. Don’t expect to see it every week, but it’ll crop up from time to time. And by all means, let me know if you want to share your own opinions!

However, I think that anytime I do hurl such things into your midst, I’ll make sure that good, breach-closing things follow. My latest tour of London’s urban farm and agriculture scene appeared here last week, but if the internet has taught us anything it’s that we all love pictures of animals. So, to cleanse the argumentative palate, here are the adorable denizens of Vauxhall City Farm. Let brotherly love and harmony be restored. I brought bunnies.

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Read more about it in the link, but it’s an interesting place with a fascinating history!
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This thing was massive, regular sized rabbit in mid left for scale.
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I fell rather in love with this duck. He had quite a waddle, er, strut.
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Goats and sheep abounded, some of which I’d seen on a previous adventure to the Southbank Centre.
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We can agree this is adorable, yes?
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A rather imperious tom who demanded homage (in the form of feed) from visitors).
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Has the cuteness healed us yet?!
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I save my greatest weapon for last. A pony sticking its tongue out for you. Let’s ignore whatever on earth the other one is doing…

There, balance is restored. What shall we argue about next?

(PS – the whole series can be found here if you’re interested. If not, disregard!)

New Friends, Levo League, and Business Skills

“Make your work to be in keeping with your purpose”
― Leonardo da Vinci

I absolutely loved my degree at university – a BA in European Studies (emphasis in British history, literature, and linguistic development) and a Minor in history. But I will be the first to admit that as educated as I believed my degree helped make me, there were a host of other skills I didn’t learn at school. Among them were a number of business skills that I’ve spent the last year working purposefully to acquire. I’ve had to develop a book keeping system. I’ve had to learn how to set prices for my services, and how to eventually change them to reflect new skills, value, and economic realities. I’ve had to learn how to do taxes as a freelancer – yick. I’ve learned about coding and SEO and other things still beyond my current scope, but not as much as they once were. But one of the most important things I never learned at school was “networking,” and I’m still learning how to do it well.

Since transitioning to freelancing full time, I’ve worked from home. For a few months I was working from a kitchen table in the middle of a central Virginia in a rural town. Now I work largely from a desk in a foreign city. I love meeting people, swapping stories and information, but chances to engage with other professionals (freelance or not) to say nothing of people are not always easy to come by.

Which is why I was thrilled that Levo League was organizing an evening of networking and negotiation training and discussion last weekend! I signed up immediately and last Thursday, off I trotted to it.

I first heard of Levo through a blogger whose skill and tenacity I admire tremendously, especially since she’s five years younger than me and already accomplishing things I find truly impressive things even though we have very different interests. Levo is a network and community of and for Millennial professional women of all stripes. They offer content and resources in the forms of articles, training, events like the one I hosted, and what they call “Office Hours,” conversations and presentations from big names in their industries like Warren Buffet, Cathy Calvin of the United Nations Foundation, Deborah Spar the President of Barnard College, and Nanette Lepore.

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Why YES, I am bragging about where I get to go to work sometimes.

The event I went to was hosted next door to the Tower of London (the views were stellar) and one of the best things I’ve done in a long time. I met Maxie McCoy, a woman and writer who I’ve girl-crushed on from afar for months, who works for Levo. I bonded with the presenter, a fabulous woman in sales who taught me to think in a new way about offering value and with whom I hope to meet up with again in the future because she’s hilarious. I met students from NYU who are so ambitious, whipsmart, and capable that it’s a bit staggering. And I even met another freelancer doing amazing work with social entrepreneurship who was not just brilliant but wonderfully lovely to talk to – we’re already making plans to do some co-working when we need to get out of our home offices!

I’m really lucky to be working in a time when so many others are freelancing as well (some estimates in Britain put the numbers as 1 in 6 Britons and 1 in 5 Londoners working for themselves), and that there are communities and resources available to us. At times it’s been downright frightening to feel so out of depth this past year, but it’s also been really encouraging to find I’m able to rise to challenges with just a little help, good information, and the realization that I’m not alone in either my struggles or my triumphs.

Levo League is currently expanding in Europe (congratulations!) so hopefully there will be more of these events to look forward to – and more seriously impressive people to get to know!

(PS – nope, no one paid me to write any of this, it’s 100% gushing. Carry on.)

This Past Sunday, Pt. 2: Every Other Market Imaginable

“Your own exploration therefore has to be personalized; you’re doing it for yourself, increasing your own store of particular knowledge, walking your own eccentric version of the city. ”
― Geoff Nicholson, The Lost Art of Walking

I initially went to Spitalfields thinking it was just one new area to explore for a morning before finding something else to do. I’m thrilled to admit how wrong I was.
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It turned out to be a several hour wander through East London since the Spitalfields Market, it turns out, rather bled into the Brick Lane Market. Which in turn fed into some other markets, which sort of carried over into bric-a-brac stalls lining whole streets, which wended their way through impromptu sales that merchants and shop owners threw up to take advantage of the crowds.
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In the the end I basically threaded my way through official and unofficial markets – selling everything from some of the choicest garments on the planet to piles of rusting bike parts – all the way from Spitalfields to Columbia Road before finally hopping on the Overground and heading home late in the afternoon.
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The smells of every kind of cuisine and street food blended into live music from buskers and performers. There were stunning and interesting things to explore around every corner. Even most grumpy of winter-weary Brits were awash with goodwill everywhere I went.
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It was the perfect first weekend of Spring.
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This Past Sunday, Pt. 1: Spitalfields Market

“Pray don’t talk to me about the weather, Mr. Worthing. Whenever people talk to me about the weather, I always feel quite certain that they mean something else. And that makes me quite nervous.”
― Oscar Wilde

I chatted to my little sister this past weekend, who informed me that due to snow and bad weather she’d only had one day of school in the past week. No questions about it, winter in the US has been brutal this year. Here in Britain it’s been one of the mildest winters in recent memory (and the wettest, witness the flooding that’s engulfed huge stretches of the country). It hasn’t been bitterly cold or particularly inconvenient in any way, but it has been cloudy and gray. January was dismal. February definitely had more clear days but it was still a bit chilly.

Well, I’m sorry to my sister and anybody else currently snowed it, but I’m thrilled to announce that Spring has arrived in Europe!

Both Saturday and Sunday were gorgeous, bright, warm days that would have been criminal to stay indoors for. On Saturday we met up with Adam for brunch in Shoreditch and then walked the length of Regent’s Canal to Islington where we paced the main streets and wandered into side ones. It’s a testament to how little sun I’ve had in the past three months that in spite of the sunscreen I put on, I still ended up with a sort of tingling, prickling sensation in my skin as it made radiation’s re-acquaintance and even SPF 40 didn’t stop the tops of my cheeks from turning ever-so-slightly pink.

Sunday Jeff had to study for an upcoming exam but I took one look out the window, threw on jeans and a t-shirt, grabbed a camera and headed off to Spitalfields Market. Everyone else eventually had the same idea and by early afternoon I was surrounded by crowds, but I’m not going to begrudge anybody a bit of sunlight. (Summer in Britain is particularly hilarious because on any given nice day, the parks and benches are crammed with people on their lunch breaks who have stripped off half their clothes and are just trying to get some Vitamin D.)

Welcome to a market that has been operating since the 17th century! Today there are substantial food and vintage goods sections but the majority of stalls I saw were run by independent artists and designers selling their creations directly to the public. Of which I highly approve!

I expect the weather will get gray and rainy again here soon, this is London after all, but if the weekends stay like this, I’ll have no complaints.

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So say we all, random shop sign!

Come Creep, er, Peep Into Windows With Me

“Decline is also a form of voluptuousness, just like growth.”
― Iwan Goll

Yesterday  in Spitalfields I ran into the most gloriously dilapidated house. Welcome to 4 Princelet Street!

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Delightful, isn’t it? Spitalfields has an amazing history deeply tied with religious minority immigration and the textile industries. This is one of a row of houses dating to the 18th century where silk merchants and designers largely lived, an industry brought to the area by French Huguenots. Irish linen workers also made this area their home. Later the area drew large Jewish populations (there is also an old synagogue, somewhat hidden on the street that was left disused for many years, but is preserved in a fragile state, that I hope to visit. It’s only open a few days a year to protect the site from wear and tear). Then – like every other area in London – in the 19th century it turned into a horrible rookery and slum. One of the Jack the Ripper murders took place just around the corner, all of his victims were actually from the area, and it was also one of the areas photographed for Jack London’s 1902 book, The People of the Abyss, which not only exposed the plight of London’s urban poor through a popular and successful author of the time, but allowed photography to visually capture the miserable state of one of London’s worst districts.

Now of course the area is home to that thriving market and is fairly trendy, but I like that the architecture of the surrounding areas is intact from time past. Most of the homes and period shops I passed still retain their half shutters and indoor wooden window blinds that fold out from the walls, there are doors still marked for “Tradesmen,” and Edwardian and Victorian era doorbells and knockers abound.

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This crumbling toy in the window is what first caught my eye. I immediately pressed my nose up to the panes and even more glorious decay was revealed.

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The blue and white tiling in the fireplace and the rickety stairs just get me. You can’t see it but there’s also an early 20th century light switch in the wall. Apparently this house is used largely for filming (no surprise there) but has been left mostly untouched and the architecture is all original. From the Georgians to now, elements of design have been added without the history being too taken away.

Here’s another post with more artistic shots of the interiors, and here’s a youtube video (the internet, I tell you, ask and you shall receive!) I found of a film maker who got access to the house for a project and decided to take an impromptu tour.

London Snapshot

“In this world . . .

It’s Heaven when:
The French are chefs
The British are police
The Germans are engineers
The Swiss are bankers
And the Italians are lovers

It’s Hell when:
The English are chefs
The Germans are police
The French are engineers
The Swiss are lovers
And the Italians are bankers.”
― Hidekaz Himaruya

I worked for five years at a police department on a university campus somewhat renowned for the ugliness of most of its architecture. Alternatively, here is the police office of Hyde Park. Brace yourself, Brandie and Sav. You might cry. I nearly did.

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