Category: Humor

Silver Screen

“It’s not what a movie is about, it’s how it is about it.”
― Roger Ebert

At least once a week we pick an area and go exploring. Which is how we stumble across things like the Covent Garden branch of the London Film Museum.

It’s a relatively small museum that has only been open for a couple of years, but it contains a lot really good stuff, including early cinema equipment, some of the earliest films ever made, really fabulous exhibits on the history on the technology development of film. From painted glass sides you could hold before a lantern in the Regency, to digital recording innovations, it encapsulates the history pretty well! One of my favorite bits was the examples and drawings of the camera equipment that wilderness photographers had to cart around by pack animal to document the American West as it opened up. Trains of donkeys were often needed to transport one photographer’s gear and the glass slides that captured the images were large panes that required a level of care that was hard to get in a city let alone on a nearly vertical slope somewhere in largely uncharted wilderness

Early and massive camera.
Early and massive camera.

The other half of the museum is devoted to an exhibition of British in general and London specific contributions to film. The exhibitions are a mix of the different eras, themes, and social commentary of films made in or about Britain. As an additional treat, they have a really excellent collection of costumes and set pieces from iconic British television shows and films. The Coronation Chair from Elizabeth with Cate Blanchett, Laurence Olivier’s uniform jacket from The Battle of Britain…and then this which nearly made me shriek:

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Bow down , peasants, Cecil Beaton’s work as worn by Audrey Hepburn & Co. is present, including That Dress.

…Okay, it’s a copy, but they are made and put up close – not even under glass – so you can see the construction and design work that went into them. I don’t have a lot of super girly childhood moments to reflect on, but here’s one: as a kid I would watch, rewind (remember VHS, kids?) and rewatch the Ascot scene over and over again because of the beautiful costumes. I’d try to focus on a different one each time because (apart from the hilarious intention faux pas of the two ladies in the same hat) each gown was unique and stunning. I still have my favorites.

It’s such a new museum, and a satellite to another location on the South Bank as well, that I fear it’s not getting the love it deserves. It’s small and definitely still finding its way in some ways, but fun and charming and well worth a look in for history, pop culture, and film buffs. It’s totally free and open daily. I also recommend the cafe, located in the below ground and historic area of the museum – though if that doesn’t float your boat, our favorite gelatto joint is just around the corner.

Sunday Jaunt

“The Thames is liquid history.”
– John Burns

Sunday was gorgeous. It was also a bit emotionally fraught, as weekends have a habit of being, with Monday looming. So Jeff grabbed the camera and went for a wander on our patch, south of the river in Bermondsey and Rotherithe. I took him to an urban farm I’d previously visited for an assignment before we took in the Thames.

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The park by our flat.

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It would have been rude to pry this knocker from the door and run off with it, but I was tempted. Jeff made, “Stop it, you’re being creepy,” sounds of protests as I snapped shots of this unsuspecting front door, but I was not going to be thwarted. We also befriended a rather sweet kitty who took a break from pigeon stalking for some pets.

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I love the docks and wharfs. So do the seagulls.

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#stillnotsickoftheview

Friday Links (Self-Conscious Ostrtich Edition)

“Have no fear of perfection – you’ll never reach it.”
― Salvador Dalí

What a week. Jeff’s under the weather again, I managed to cut both my thumbs slicing vegetables for dinner last night, and I made a stupid clerical error yesterday that really just makes me want to bury my head in the sand. I hate making easily avoidable mistakes, whether they’re typos or social gaffes, because I try so hard to avoid them. Even small things like that make me feel like a fraud masquerading as a competent being, it’s the negative flipside of some Type A tendencies. I am always grateful when my mistakes are pointed out, and I try to be instantaneous about taking responsibility, correcting and apologizing for them…but I still spend about a week beating myself up anyway.

In happier news, it’s Friday, I’ve got work to do, and I’m going to try and get to at least one exhibit this weekend so while my nights might be full of tossing and turning over typos, at least I’ll be getting some culture during the days. It’s also nice and blustery outside, which believe it or not I love, so excuse me while I throw open the blinds and knuckle down to finish a project or two. Tell me what you’re doing this weekend, kittens!

Had a rough week along with me? I’ve got just the thing, it’s perfectly corking! (This one’s for you, Savvy)

For the jeweled corn alone I could love this post.

Paris fashion week this week, I can’t even imagine how exhausted the editors must be. But in that continuing mindset

These composites of what the “average” women looks like from different areas of the world is quite interesting.

Tumblr find of the week. Since Kelsey’s adventures have me dreaming of Prague

Midi rings are the latest trend to flit through my fancy. I think this one is delicate and lovely.

The New York speakeasy is alive and well! Until it was shut down…

I’m sorry but I find the history and development of tablet devices a bit funny to watch unfold. First we created a computer without a keyboard because it was more convenient than having one.. but only a couple of years later we invented a detachable keyboard that could plug into our tablets because that was more convenient than not having one. While admittedly charming, I find this latest development downright silly. Consumers, figure out what you want!

Discuss.

Apparently I am a very middling sort of wife – it was all downhill after the red nail polish!

Um, I’d like to direct a Carnegie Hall orchestra, thank you very much. The Marriage of Figaro!

In lieu of another tumblr find, my friend Scott sent me this meme this, which I pass on to you.

Jeeves Approved

“Oh, Jeeves,’ I said; ‘about that check suit.’
Yes, sir?’
Is it really a frost?’
A trifle too bizarre, sir, in my opinion.’
But lots of fellows have asked me who my tailor is.’
Doubtless in order to avoid him, sir.’
He’s supposed to be one of the best men in London.’
I am saying nothing against his moral character, sir.”
― P.G. Wodehouse

Are you ready to be introduced to one of the gems of London? Walk with me, minions, I have things to show you!

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Welcome to 282 Portobello Road, a vintage shop specializing in British heritage clothing, especially tweed and leather. Though on the same road as the famous market, it is open every business day, and I really believe that every classic clothing enthusiast should look in if they ever get the chance. The clothing sold there spans the 20th century, with a particularly emphasis on the country gentleman. Last Saturday Jeff and I hit up the market for some grocery shopping and, as always to see what treasure we could find (more on that another day, because we found some great stuff!). When I mentioned this shop, he immediately wanted to have a look. A proper tweed jacket has been on his To Buy list for a while – and let me tell you there is absolutely no other place to go!

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Vintage Barbours and Burberry trenches, beaver top hats, and furs take up whole walls in the place, and beautifully worn leather boots march all over the floors. The smell is amazing, woody and wooly at the same time, and you’re permitted if not actively encouraged to touch and handle the wares. Jeff found exactly what he was looking for, and at a fabulous price!

The owner, Claudia, is an absolute delight to talk to! She’s one of those people who is so unabashedly enthusiastic about what they do and love that you can’t help being infected by it. She chats with everyone who steps in as if they are old friends, knows your size just by looking at you, and encourages you to try on anything that catches your eye. The Saturday I took Jeff she was talking to patrons about how she had been invited to Paris Fashion week, so when I went to pick up his jacket I asked her how it had been. She immediately gave me a whole run down of the couture shows she went to, the fashionista watching she did, and the Bohemians she and her friend bonded with in Monmarte. She even whipped out her phone to show me the beautiful 1930’s gown she wore (part of her private collection and not for sale).

I adore this woman!
I adore this woman!

All of her tweeds are heritage, made entirely in Britain (many in Scotland) and dyed with natural dyes instead of chemicals. She can even tell you where many of the cloths came from originally since almost every single one of the old tweed factories is now long out of business. They even offer tailoring at no additional charge – Jeff needed the sleeves lengthened.

Never fear, ladies, we are very well provided for!
Never fear, ladies, we are very well provided for!
That leopard hat might be necessary to my happiness.
That leopard hat might be necessary to my happiness.

I know exactly where I’m going to get my own ladies’ tweed jacket (on my own To Buy list), and my next pair of boots. One of best aspects of quality vintage clothing is how well some of it holds up. I peered through riding boots that are decades old but look and feel more solid and better than half of what I could find new at a store for the same price. In addition to outerwear, which is clearly one of the main themes of the shop, Claudia stocks some incredible, fun period pieces as well.

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The knickerbockers, they slay me!
The knickerbockers, they slay me!

So, when you’re next in town and looking to add a bit of traditional British gentility to your wardrobe, I’ll take you to meet Claudia before we go to tea in our new tweeds.

Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner

“True friends are like diamonds – bright, beautiful, valuable, and always in style.”
― Nicole Richie

A few days ago I got an email out of the blue from Kelsey, one of the good friends I made while on study abroad in the UK five years ago. She and her boyfriend were taking two weeks to wander through Europe, they were going to have a long layover in London and could we meet up for lunch or something?

Well, it turns out that the boyfriend (a truly lovely guy named Cody, who I was really happy to finally meet after hearing so much about him) had switched some flights around secretly to surprise her and they were going to have two days in London instead. Because…he was going to propose, the sly dog!

When we met up for dinner on Sunday night at Dishoom (an excellent Indian place between Leicester Square and Covent Garden tube stations, by the way), she was sporting a gorgeous ring and a glowing smile. We were, by geographic default, the first friends to get the news, and we couldn’t be happier for them!

After dinner we wandered up and down the Thames and taking in the city by night, remembering a lot of really good adventures together. If only Abby and Amy could have been there, it would have been downright perfect.

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PS – Kelsey and Cody are hitting up Milan, Munich, Prague, and Paris over the next couple of weeks, so if you want to follow along and live vicariously through them, her instagram is well worth a look in!

Night at the Museum

“I wonder if we are seeing a return to the object in the science-based museum. Since any visitor can go to a film like Jurassic Park and see dinosaurs reawakened more graphically than any museum could emulate, maybe a museum should be the place to have an encounter with the bony truth. Maybe some children have overdosed on simulations on their computers at home and just want to see something solid–a fact of life.”
― Richard Fortey, Dry Store Room No. 1: The Secret Life Of The Natural History Museum

The weeks are passing so quickly these days that it’s a little breathtaking, we glance up and it’s the last day of September already.

On Friday I went to the Bermondsey Antique Market, partly to find a wedding present for a freelancing client who has become a good friend, and partly because I was finally over that cold and needed to just get out of the house for a walk. Luckily I emerged victorious and with a croissant in hand. Breakfast of champions. The Bermondsey market is tiny compared to it’s more famous cousin Portobello Road, it all fits into one square, but the quality of goods is very comparable (and frankly some of the prices are loads better). The antique silver is excellent and some of the jewelry blew me away. There are also excellent niche stalls with pieces from the Far East, vintage clothing, and a fun group who collects and sell mid-century furniture. Friends should prepare themselves to receive Bermondsey Market’s offerings for a myriad of birthdays and holidays.

That night I went to the Natural Science Museum for their annual Science Uncovered event and had a blast! The building was filled with stands and kiosks where researchers from the museum brought out their favorite samples and specimens from behind glass to talk about and present to visitors close up. In addition universities and institutes from all over the UK and European Union had stalls and presentations on the work they were doing, the whole point of the event is making scientists available for plebes like me to march up and demand that things be explained.

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Some of the most memorable people I talked to included a researcher who mapped genetic concentrations of people within the UK and Northern Ireland. For example, apparently the Romans didn’t do much genetic mixing during their stay in Britain, they’ve left virtually no trace. In Wales and Cornwall on the other hand we see some of the highest concentrations, meaning that people from that area tended to stay in that area instead of move around, even after industrialization. There was also a way to check where your family names have been concentrated highest for the last two centuries. Suffice it to say my ancestors on both sides appear to have been genetically slutty and highly mobile, while Jeff comes from a a more rarefied group who stayed concentrated in the south of England like dignified people. This mapping also shows where the family names are concentrated outside of the UK, Virginia and Idaho for Jeff. Australia and Arkansas for me – ozarks and convicts! If ever I wanted proof my blood is trouble, I’ve got it!

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I also spent a good 45 minutes chatting with a researcher who works on kidney disease and found it absolutely fascinating, believe it or not. Turns out that cleaning the blood (while vital to our survival) is only about 5% of what they do, other major tasks include signaling bone marrow to produce new blood cells and cooperating on insulin management. Upon request she took me through the process of dialysis and then explained why it was such a bad treatment in so many ways. I learned ton and it was fun to get one on one knowledge from a person who was unabashedly enthusiastic about their research.

After that I sort of snuck myself into a tour on human evolution and species development which was a lot of fun (fun fact, the tiny percentage of Neanderthal genetic code most people of European descent have swimming around in their chromosomes comes not from the period when Homo Sapiens and Neanderthals were sharing the same areas in Europe, but from several thousand years before when we first met up in the Middle East as we were starting to migrate out of Africa. Apparently after a bit of hanging out together we largely went our separate ways). And then I wandered down the side corridors for the “science on a soapbox” stations, where scientists and researches literally stood on boxes and took questions from onlookers. I heard fascinating mini-lectures on whether the monetization of conservation efforts has been for good or ill,  whether a mission to Mars is even a good idea, a humorous take on popular views of science and scientists, and why the Dodo has been physically misrepresented for centuries.

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It was great fun. It was also kind of hilarious to see how loud and enthusiastic everyone was in a space that’s typically more solemn and quiet. I suspect the plethora of open bars had something to do with it. But if you’re a learning enthusiast and ever in town, it’s a great late night event. There is plenty there for kids as well as adults, the restaurants and cafes are open, and the spirit of inquiry and exploration is actively encouraged. Best of all, it’s free.

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Dippy (face of the museum and prized Diplodocus) says hi!

Friday Links (Cold Recovery Edition)

“A guitarist or a drummer can get a cold and still play; I get a cold and sound like a wet mitten trying to sing you a love song. Charming.”
― Tori Amos

Snapshot of Bermondsey Market this morning.
Snapshot of Bermondsey Market this morning.

Jeff and I both caught colds this week and so things have been fairly quiet around headquarters. But several packets of Riccola and an ungodly amount of tissues later, we’re on the mend. We had to raid Boots for supplies at one point, looking slightly like death warmed over, but good came out of it. I’m now the proud owner of a Boots points card, surely the next thing to citizenship for going native.

Tonight we’re hoping to invade the Natural History Museum for their annual Science Uncovered festival (because we are unrepentant nerds, and because I have a natural delight in being able to get into areas that are usually off limits – legally of course!). Other than that I’ve dedicated the weekend to finishing a largeish project for a client and dragging Jeff to Portobello Road with me at some point. The guy’s been working hard on his home study assignments, I’ve been plugging away at freelancing, and with a cold on top of it we haven’t left the house in a couple of days now. Unacceptable!

Interesting report. Jeff and I had relatively cheap cable for a year or so when we were first married, but when our contract ran out and the price was going to go up we just unsubscribed. And we’ve never looked back.

Kids, this alone could be your links post!

NY and LDN fashion weeks are behind us, let’s celebrate with something fashion-y, yes? (Also, American minions. Since we tend to be about 6 months behind what I see in London: muted pinks, skirt suits [in the Dior New Look vein], sheer detailing, and large graphic floral prints. As Miranda Priestly would say, “Groundbreaking.”)

You. Are. Welcome.

Knowing my love of emeralds, Jeff sent me this. Woof!

There is to be another Poirot novel! At first I cocked my head to the side and narrowed my eyes a bit in suspicion, but as I’m no purist (and as apparently Agatha Cristie’s grandchild has approved it) I withhold judgement. Although I KNOW Jessica (the artist previously known as Venice) will have opinions on the subject, she is a devotee of “ze little grey cells.”

Fun fact! In the Edwardian era (Downton Abbey returned on Sunday here in the UK, by the bye, sorrynotsorry for the saturation) there was a brief rage for high society women getting tattoos. Lady Randolph Churchill, nee Jennie Jerome, a famous American socialite and beauty and Winston’s Churchill’s mother, is said to have had at least one. A snake curling around her wrist, no less. She also had an affair with a king, take from that what you will.

Really good tips! I’m alternating between my mobile and digital camera constantly trying to figure out how to take photos. I was not born under a photographing planet…

Hm, perhaps a revival of this curiosity might cut down on street harassers?

SOON.

I find these medieval illustrations of snails in combat to be oddly charming.

Moving. (h/t Jessica)

The Way We Live Now (or more precisely, where)

“London has the trick of making its past, its long indelible past, always a part of its present. And for that reason it will always have meaning for the future, because of all it can teach about disaster, survival, and redemption. It is all there in the streets.”
― Anna Quindlen, Imagined London: A Tour of the World’s Greatest Fictional City

Ducklings and gentle-kittens, let me make you welcome to Bermondsey.

It’s on the south side of the Thames, a place that has been through the centuries a holy area, a posh area, and a slum area. A large abbey once stood here with royal ties back to the conquest. Apparently Henry II and Eleanor of Aquitaine held a Christmas court here (presumably more amiable than the one portrayed in The Lion in Winter…), and Elizabeth Woodville retired there along with Henry VII’s blessing after he married her daughter. As usually happened to these presumably impressive buildings, Henry VIII dissolved the Abbey and gave the land to his friend. The Stuarts poshed it up after the Great Fire, but it sank into decay. In the 19th century, the docks and industrialization made things a bit grim.

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This church, built in the 17th century even though a church has been recorded on this sight for well over a thousand years, is the parish church of St. Mary Magdalen.

Charles Dickens described the area near here thusly,  “… crazy wooden galleries common to the backs of half a dozen houses, with holes from which to look upon the slime beneath; windows, broken and patched, with poles thrust out, on which to dry the linen that is never there; rooms so small, so filthy, so confined, that the air would seem to be too tainted even for the dirt and squalor which they shelter; wooden chambers thrusting themselves out above the mud and threatening to fall into it — as some have done; dirt-besmeared walls and decaying foundations, every repulsive lineament of poverty, every loathsome indication of filth, rot, and garbage…”

Quality!

Luckily these days Bermondsey is undergoing a nice little resurgence and we’re really enjoying living here. Huge masses of it was bombed and rebuilt after WWII so it’s relatively recent (compared to a surprising amount of London). Our plumbing is only from the last century instead of the one before – this is cause for rejoicing, trust me!

We’re in Southwark, one of the oldest parts of London – the area from which Chaucer’s pilgrims departed for Canterbury is just a Tube station away, Shakespeare’s Globe theatre is in the same direction. To the east lies the dock where the Mayflower departed for Southampton to meet up with its dour and disapproving paying passengers heading for the New World. The dock where they hanged pirates in the 18th century is nearby. There are excellent restaurants, Bermondsey’s famous antique market, and of course the river.

We also live a 15-20’s minute’s leisurely stroll from Tower Bridge.

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I think you’ll excuse me, minions, if I say that I’m vastly contended and downright giddy about this in a lot of ways. Not too bad, huh!

*all images original to Small Dog Syndrome

Skinpiration. Please?

“Il faut souffrir pour être belle.”
-Unknown

Got my first, “Congratulations, you live in a city again!” major zit. Alas! Seriously, this sucker took up some major real estate on my chin. Such that even Jeff, normally a paragon of husbandly delicacy on such matters, was led to exclaim, “What’s that on your face?!” Several of its brethren are not so discreetly advancing as well.

Humid climates after a desert have conspired to wreak havoc on my skin, and my one facial after neglecting them for so long can only do so much. So city dwelling minions advise please. What weapons do I need in a city skincare arsenal?

Friday Links

“I’ve been walking about London for the last thirty years, and I find something fresh in it every day.”
– Walter Besant

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Snapped last week wandering

This weekend Jeff is going golfing with some of the other people from his intake group (I’d tease him about becoming a cliche so soon, but the guy loves golf, hasn’t gone in a couple of months now, and is seriously excited about it so all corporate jokes are off) and I’m going to do some research for a freelance project. I am also going to do some more wandering. There is simply nothing to beat wandering in London.

Here are your links, kittens, and tell me what you’re up to!

This artist creates indoor clouds, and I think the results are oddly beautiful. (h/t Savvy)

It’s the morbid streak in me but I have a weird fascination with heiresses of the reclusive variety.

Hm. Some of these I like, others I think are ridiculous, and still others I want to slap across the face.

Has the week left you grumpy? Here, I have just the thing.

A beautiful take on van Gogh’s work.

When some people (an increasing number in fact from my community, but that’s a different post) ask me why I’m involved with some of the specific initiatives I am, usually involving womens’ rights, I’m always tempted to ask, “Do you read/watch the news?”

Excellent checklist. (We’ve got job hunting on the brain over here.)

Sarah, one of the most lovely and darling friends I made a university, is celebrating her (highly successful) blog’s 2 year anniversary this week. In addition to restaurant level quality food, she shares her travels as well – definitely check out her latest jaunt to Greece! It’s giving me outrageous schemes!

To say that I want this is vast understatement. I covet it in an almost unhealthy way.

Don’t knock assistants!

*image original to Small Dog Syndrome