Shit Hot - Shit: Episode One

Like a virtual taste barometer, Niki Fryatt attempts to persuade you of the present day must-have's, must-listen-to's, and basically the best of all things...... Oh yeah and the flip side

SHIT HOT

Fucked Up: Because who doesn’t love seeing skinny indie kids being snapped in half by a 20-stone Canadian man-baby called pink eyes?

Celebsbians: Seriously, is it us or is Li-Lo SOOO much cooler since she started sucking the face of Samantha Ronson (we deduct points tho, Linz because she does look eerily like her brother Mark – [Ed ‘Ronson is the anti-Christ of mine puritan ears’]).

And isn’t Ellen and Portia's marriage the most romantic in Hollywood this year? (We hope they adopt girl babies in all the colours of the rainbow and act like the same sex version of Branjelina). Sapphic is like, SO cool!

Fucked Up: Definitely Shit Hot

Concrete & Glass: Shoreditch twats, yes: But TV on the Radio? YESSSSSSSSSS

Fat Boys: Guy Garvey, Matt Berry, James Corden, Nick Frost, Big Phil Jupitus, Toadie, the list is endless - face it skinny men, big boys are just more fun!

Patent Leather: We want the LK Bennet brogues, the Jaeger bag and the Topshop jazz shoes! Wear with a pencil skirt to look lady-like or Checked Shirt for Scuzzy bad-gal cool

American Apparel: FIT clothes and Adverts that are porn for indie kids. ‘Nuff said.

 

SHIT

Winehouse: YAWN! Just die or get clean and stop wasting our time woman!

Gymnastics Scrunchies: Never attractive headwear. Its not 1992 anymore and not even one nu-raver has worn a scrunchie since the Klaxons were deemed "underground."

Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise: Okay so we know this is an old one, but come on! Why is she still with him?! In our dreams she gets back together with Joshua Jackson and they sail off into the sunset a-la Joey and Pacey - Awww!

Leather Trousers: Looming dangerously on the Autumnal Horizon.

The Mighty Boosh: The Boosh = OVER EXPOSED. Go hide in some cosmic caves for a while boys, don’t believe t'hype! (This means you Noel Fielding)

The Last Shadow Puppets: Two blokes with Oasis hair cuts and the faces of sixth-form kids singing fake Bond themes. And THIS is worthy of a Mercury? [Ed – well actually, yes if Elbow hadn’t of won it, two words Niki, Owen Pallet]

 

"Toit like a Toiger"

Niki Fryatt [Ed = Emily Kendrick]

Walk the Line

With skinny jeans just about as typical as Wino in the paper, Niki Fryatt hails the dawning of a new era for the trouser wearing community...

Ahhhhh cord! I remember in the good old days, back when I accessorized every outfit with nappies, that I had a pretty killer pair of cord jeans in turquoise, which I wore with burgundy start rites and a multi-coloured jumper that my Nan knitted for me.

My interest in cord decreased once potty trained: ‘til I was about 8 and I discovered the most gorgeous pair of plum-coloured cord leggings in M&S. I begged my mum to let me have them, she relented (just to shut me up, one would assume) and I duly accessorized with Doc Martins, denim shirt and floppy hat (I was going through a MAJOR Blossom phase at the time).

Durst: More about the cords than the chords, really

Then when I was 15, along with my posse of fellow nu-metallers, I discovered the joys of the super-flared cord, which I had in brick-red jumbo and jet-black needle cord. Obvs they looked buff with DC trainers, as much plastic jewellery as would fit from wrist to arm and a sparkly pink dog collar. Not a great look I’ll admit.

It all changed when I was 18. Suddenly the bootcut and the flare were as passé as Fred Durst. A sleeker, leaner style of jean was seen on celebrity legs: frankly It was only a matter of time before it hit the high street and my eyes were diverted, like childhood boyfriend’s who get dumped when you notice the infinitely cooler and fitter elder brother is much more to your taste.

Since I tried on my first pair of skinny’s, my love affair with cord has waned. It reminded me too much of those youthful hi-jinks. Those hideous nu-metal hoodies I wore. My love of pigtails and ponys. I can look back on it with nostalgia, but force me to wear a pair of bootcut, needle cords, and I’ll show you where you can stick it.

" Suddenly the bootcut and the flare were as passé as Fred Durst "

Yet one day recently, when I was trawlling the vitual aisles of Topshop (it was, what I like to call, ‘a slow news day’) and my eyes happened upon the most glorious skirt I had ever seen. It was simple. It was a line. It was mini. And it was cord! I was literally blown away.
 

From the cute little heart buttons to the gorgeous mottled dove-grey: here was a skirt that suited all my librarian-chic needs! "Team me with brick-red tights and patent heels," it screamed, "put those gladiator sandals and Micky Mouse t-shirt to good use next summer," it cooed. "Buy me, buy me!" - Into the shopping basket it went!

Its got me thinking that, perhaps it wasn’t the material, but the shape that made me cringe - it’s a hardwearing fabric, hasn’t succumbed to the engineering and "it-jean" phenomenon of its denim cousin, and has a sort of disheveled elegance to it (think of all those elderly toffs you see in massive red cords with the knees ripped out - GENUIS!) furthermore you are unlikely to see it gracing all and sundry on your travels.

It will also provide the perfect segue for those fools who are still addicted to the skinny, coloured jean, American Apparel stock skinny, unisex cords in all the colours of the rainbow. To redeem yourselves buy them in tomato red, olive or sand to show me that you've moved on! Please?

 

Niki Fryatt

Alternative Icons: Part 1

The first in this series of all things cloth inspiring, those that hit just outside the box, sees Niki Fryatt draw tips from those too cool for school... Cartoon Heroes

Its pretty safe to say that in fashion, history so often repeats itself; and what with the recession, New Kids on the Block comeback and The Wackness its safe to say we are in the midst of a heady 90s revival and the same could be said of the catwalk. So where do we, the kids of the 90s, go for some inspiration? It is not as if we wore it all before. Well, the best of us were sat in front of the telly with a bowlful of Frosties watchin’ kick-ass cartoons. These are this month’s alternative icons…

The Ashley’s (Recess)

                                            Ashley VS. La Chung 

Once an Ashley always an Ashley. With their penny loafers, mini kilts, knee-high socks and high maintenance tastes, it seems everyone from Alexa Chung to those daughters of Russian Oligarchs have been looking to Ashley, Ashley and erm…. Ashley, for inspiration. When not terrorising the rest of the playground the Ashley’s were hanging out in their pink den, manicuring the fuck out of each others nails. You just know this was what Serina and Blaire got up to in gossip-girl elementary school!

 

Carmen Sandiego (Of same name fame)

Where on earth was Carmen Sandiego? And why was she always stealing major works of art? And wasn’t wearing a MASSIVE hat and trench coat in tomato red just drawing attention to yourself? Actually Carmen’s tomato red ensemble is what got her onto this list in the first place. It’s the hottest colour of the season – Gambaista Valli dedicated an entire runway to tomato red cocktail dresses that Liz Taylor would DIE for. Dior’s couture collection contained natty little skirt suits in an orangey-red hue, and to top it all off, Primark have some red heeled dolly shoes which you can pick up for a mere twelve quid. If you’re a bit wary of taking the plunge in an entirely red outfit, go for flashes just like Carmen, a knotted red trench will work well for any occasion and add spice to everything - from your LBD to your jeans - next step? Plan to steal the Mona Lisa

" If you’re a bit wary of taking the plunge in an entirely red outfit, go for flashes just like Carmen, a knotted red trench will work well for any occasion and add spice to everything "

Daria and Jane (Daria)

The checked shirt has become a ubiquitous wardrobe staple over the last year or so, we have all suddenly started dressing like its 1994 and putting Nevermind back on our stereos. But way back in the 90s little kids like us were more concerned with playing Pogs and wearing those giant baby grow pyjamas than copying Kurt and Courtney’s grunge look. Daria and Jane were the 2D representation of those grunge kids that were treating the rest of the world with distain and looking damn good whilst doing it!

 

The series started out on Bevis and Butthead, but the girls out grew and got their own show which was a satirical take on the all-American life. Jane’s angular bob and Daria’s geek glasses are bang on trend. However, this season, grunge is grown up – think about wearing better quality, embellishment and layering tailored garments with long sleeve t-shirts and sweaters, its also important to mix up fabrics to give texture – satin with wool, flannel and silk. It’s all about the luxe baby!

Niki Fryatt

Reading is Sexy

Books you really ought to read… & how to look the part whilst reading them, a guide by Katy Creates

I have a confession to make: I am a book-freak. Books line my walls, pile up on my floor, fall apart in my handbag, come out when I’m drunk and take up one side of my bed before the boyfriend gets home and turfs them out again. I believe in the power of books with an almost religious fervour and will happily preach to anyone within earshot about the moral fibre of proper literature and the hell and damnation of all titles to be found in the Richard & Judy Book Club or, to that end, your average university syllabus.

While not claiming to be a thorough introduction to the grand field of Modern Literature, it will serve to introduce the uninitiated student of the printed word to a wide selection of appropriate titles from across the world for their prolonged delectation.

Most of these titles will be found in your local charity shop, and so the exercise is a cheap one.

Class! Turn to page 1!

Richard and Judy: Ruining coffee tables since 2004

Hangover Square - by Patrick Hamilton

 ‘The world that he regarded with horror, in the dark outside the saloon bars, is not better than it was when he was writing these novels, it is if anything – worse. So I feel that there must be thousands of youngish readers who will not only appreciate his unique talent but will welcome his as a friend and a brother.’  J.B. Priestley

It’s between world wars, you’re in London, the weather’s miserable, drinking is a reason to get up in the morning and the man or woman of your dreams is driving you insane. Literally.

Hangover Square is one of my all-time favourite novels. Darkly humorous, it depicts the seedy world of George Harvey Bone. George is an unhappy, semi-alcoholic Londoner who frequents the saloon-bars of Earl’s Court. Obsessed and addicted he follows the cruel, spiteful wannabe actress Netta around like a love-sick puppy in a drunken hell. Only George isn’t your average pup. He suffers from murderous blackouts.

‘It was as though a shutter had fallen… so quick that he could only think of it as a crack or snap.’

He has no recollection of what occurs during those dark times, the only thing he becomes sure of is his desire to murder Netta. Brilliant, page-turning stuff.

What to Wear:

Inter-war chic is everywhere this autumn. If you want to dress like George or Netta the footwear is simple:

‘…he had been reminded of her by the sight of his own shoes… because the brogue of his own brown shoes was exactly the same as the brogue on the new brown shoes she had begun wearing a week ago.’

Brogues it is then - for men and women. There are loads of brogues out there of varying prices and styles, so I won’t bore you with the details. For men try charity shops and for ladies Office do some very sturdy looking pairs.

Netta is described as wearing: ‘a navy blue coat and skirt over a scarlet silk blouse’ and a ‘dark-brown knitted frock’ with a ‘red scarf.’ So we’re talking deep, dark, natural, berry colours; maroon, purple, indigo and luxurious, old-fashioned fabrics; silks, woollens and thick, cosy stockings or tights. All slightly Burberry and frightfully English. Accessorize with scarves and brooches and go full-on with the make-up. The right red-lipstick is a must for any cold-hearted 1940s seductress.

For men: George is described as wearing, ‘rather outlandish clothes, which he had always outgrown…’ Peter, a friend of the nasty Netta is less cutesy: ‘his fair, cruel face, his eccentricity of dress, his hatlessness, his check trousers and light grey sweater with polo neck – ‘sensible’ enough no doubt…’

Peter’s hatlessness infers that wearing a hat was a given for the man about town and in this weather a sturdy fedora would not go amiss. Again, a classic look. Fitted suits and tailoring in drab, military colours work well.

Frivolous or glamourous is out. Although slightly before the full-on World War Two aesthetic, this was still the era when material was scarce so don’t be a waster: ‘make-do and mend.’

Drink of Choice: is of course a double-measure Gin & Tonic.

Further Reading:

Follow it up with...

• Graham Greene – Brighton Rock; or 
• Patrick Hamilton – 20, 000 Streets Under the Sky

Katy Creates

Hollywood is Systematically Destroying My Childhood

A dark day announces itself, as Ian Ravenscroft discovers his childhood being irreversibly toyed with, and its all to the benefit of CGI and shoddy comedians... 

I've always been jealous of the so-called 'golden' generations. The late sixties saw political, sexual and social upheaval played out to the soundtrack of exciting, revolutionary music; while the seventies took cinema by storm with Scorcese and Kubrik ripping up the rule books. And what have I got?

That's no fucking Art Attack, this goes against 

everything Neil Buchanan stood for!

Now I think I've found my claim to 'golden era' status. As I grew up in the late eighties and early nineties, it was children's entertainment that ruled the roost. Suddenly kids were being treated as intelligent creatures capable of understanding (or glossing over) much more complex themes and concepts.

If it wasn't a crack team of alien cats fighting a mummified sorcerer, or an entirely blue superhero with a mullet saving the planet with 'green' morality, it'd be an innovative gameshow or an interactive arts programme I'd be engrossed in.

" The ONE piece of my childhood that I KNEW they could never get to. Gone in a single sentence "

These shows sculpted my outlook on life. Fun House taught me that nothing was impossible. Art Attack taught me that life was what you made of it. The Wide Awake Club taught me to avoid strange men offering sweets: Each show was a building block of my personality, creativity and moral fibre. But now a disturbing trend has emerged...

One by one, those building blocks are being undermined by the all-consuming machinery of Hollywood. I can picture the studio bosses in their LA war room as the plans were being drawn up. "This generation knows too much. They have seen the TRUTH of what entertainment can be. We must strike before it is too late."

And strike they did, undermining every classic work of the era, replacing golden memories with shoddy acting and product placement in a CG-filled nightmare. Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles, mutilated. Transformers, trashed. Street Fighter, bloodied. Inspector Gadget...um...”Go! Go! Gadget shite!” And there's noting I can do, the path of destruction is already mapped out.

First Thundercats will appear as an all-CG monstrosity, then it's Fraggle Rock set in the 'real' world, no doubt with a McFly soundtrack and conveniently-timed toys. What else could be up their evil sleeves?

Dangermouse starring Brad Pitt with Angelina Jolie as Penfold, set in New York opposite a CG Baron Greenback? Or Count Duckula starring Brendan Fraser and Lindsay Lohan who travel deep into Transylvania for a romantic break, before Jack Black's eponymous Count spoils the party? The possibilities seem endless.

And then I heard the words I'd begun to fear would come. "No!" I started, but it was too late. The one bastion of my childhood that would never be sold down the river, the one incorruptible work that taught me so much and shaped the way I now look at the world. 

The ONE piece of my childhood that I KNEW they could never get to. Gone in a single sentence. "They're making Ghostbusters 3...and it could be all CG starring Ben Stiller."

Now there is nothing left for them to take. I've been reduced to a shell of a human being, bereft of personal memories and stripped of my very childhood. How can I reminisce about the glorious ‘golden age’ of children's entertainment now? How can I boast that I was there, toasting my hands by the warming glow of the television as the classics unfolded before my eyes? I can't. But then again, Bill Murray and Dan Akroyd are still alive. It might be good...

Ian Ravenscroft

A Cautionary Tale...

With the much celebrated re-energising of Dr Who, can David Tennant's Hamlet do as much to enliven the spirit of the Shakespeare for the internet generation? Laura Kenwright reviews...

I’ve been suffering from Tennantitis recently. It is a disease that has spread viciously, and without discrimination, through Britain and especially my home town of Stratford-upon-Avon. I was tantalised at the thought of the Doctor’s Dane, and was unbelievably excited about an evening of the theatrical equivalent of sex. However, when arriving at my seat, I was confronted by the foreboding sight of an 8 year old girl sat on a throne made up of extra RSC cushions, wearing a foam yellow crown, her best dress and her parents seated in the row behind. Shudder. So, I took my seat next to the darling princess. AA Gill wouldn’t have to put up with this.

For the purposes of this exercise, let us call this young lady 'Miss A. Brat'. Miss Brat provided an excellent performance throughout the whole evening. The opening and consumption of Opal Fruits (Starburst…whatever) stood at approximately 30; the number of times she removed and placed her foam crown back on her head was about 200; and the number of times she took her best denim jacket on and off was 15, or thereabouts. It was a very physical, experimental performance.

I caught a little of the play in between being heavily distracted by my seat-fellow’s ADHD. During the first hour of the production, it was much more worthwhile watching Miss Brat. 

" I took my seat next to the darling princess. AA Gill wouldn't have to put up with this "

The scenes were static and saturated with arrogance and laziness from both the actors and director. I was sorely disappointed. It didn’t help that I am not a fan of Patrick Stewart who was playing Claudius. I find Stewart a lazy actor; his speech is expressionless and last night verged on soporific: Loud - but expressionless. I saw his Prospero at the RSC a few years back and my brother and I almost walked out we were so unimpressed with his performance. Claudius is a great character to play, he is a calculated Machiavellian, a glorious challenge for any actor. However, Stewart’s Claudius was flat and void of excitement. His scenes were only bearable because they were usually accompanied with the delightful Penny Downie, who was a formidable, complex and vampish Gertrude - and one who provided humour and richness to the scenes.

So far, I was surprisingly unimpressed with this much-hyped production. It felt like we were watching a group actors wading through toffee. Perhaps that is the price you pay for the months of excitement endured before being lucky enough to procure tickets. A disappointment so far, with the exception of Tennant’s quick-witted and electrifying Hamlet.

He was electric and effusive, engaging and agile. This was a twenty-first century Hamlet, a Hamlet of the MySpace generation. An interesting aside for the Hamlet geek: ‘to be or not to be’ often appears after the arrival of the players, whereas in this production, Hamlet ponders the relevance of his existence before. Although this can be seen as perfectly natural, in my mind it makes more sense to place this fundamental speech after he has decided to put on the play to make Claudius confess, as it makes more sense in terms of questioning the human identity. Nonetheless, Tennant’s deliverance potently, yet gently creeps upon the audience.

Photo: Thanks to RSC / Jamie Wallace

Continued...

The 'Player’s Scene' was fabulously camp, and injected much-needed energy into the otherwise static production. Until this point I had thought to myself that the RSC had blown their whole budget on Tennant and could not afford scenery. It signified a change of pace and quality to the whole production. It was grotesque and hideous and consequently very enjoyable.

There were other performers of note that I must mention. Mariah Gale as Ophelia is breathtaking. She portrays Ophelia’s madness with convincing poignancy, and her ‘Tomorrow is St Valentine’s day’ scene, preceding her suicide is one of the most powerful that I have seen in theatre. It was beautiful, raw and edgy.

Oliver Ford Davies as Polonius, Ophelia and Laertes’ father, was an excellent balance of posture and comedy – a wittering and doddery, yet caring father. Peter de Jersey as Horatio was a strong and loyal companion.

Gregory Doran’s Hamlet was an urgent, raw and jittery production. It was not flawless. It seems I may have caught the company as a whole on a tired night, and although some individual performances were very powerful, as a company there seemed to be a lack of cohesion and community, which was disappointing. I look forward to seeing Tennant’s Macbeth in 15 years time, and his Lear in 30 years time. His Hamlet was one I related to, as much as I can to a fictional madman, a nippy and shrewd Hamlet for the twenty-first century.

Hamlet is showing at the Courtyard Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon, until 15 November.

Laura Kenwright