BS.
Bullsh*t
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1. Bleach
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Ethos Appreciate the image. Read the article. Absorb the culture. BS is not a glossy, magazine or book. It is an aesthetic reference to art in all elements of life, to be kept and used in any which way you desire. Back to beautiful basics. No Photoshop, no foolery. NO BULLSH*T
BS.
Editor in Chief Rhiannon Bliss Hardie
Bleach. A tale of turmoil and nirvana in the modern world.
? Location St George’s Psychiatric Hospital Model Olivia Reeves Garments American Apparrel crop vest Vintage shirt Topshop fray jumper Cheap Monday jeans Vintage oversize tee All jewellery vintage Makeup and Styling Rhiannon Bliss Hardie
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Bare face
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Models Sophie Guy Jo Russ Ridley Annie
Flower   Flow¡er [flou-er] noun 1. The blossom of a plant. 2. Botany . a.The part of a seed plant comprising the reproductive organs and their envelopes if any, especially when such envelopes are more or less conspicuous in form and color. b.An analogous reproductive structure in other plants, as the mosses. 3. A plant, considered with reference to its blossom or cultivated for its floral beauty. 4. State of efflorescence or bloom: Peonies were in flower. 5. An ornament representing a flower.
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People like to moan. They shroud it in words like constructive criticism to kid you into thinking they’re saying something different, but they’re not, they’re probably moaning about the same thing as you. It’s human nature, to comment, delegate thoughts on matters which probably don’t concern or even influence you and your life in any way; But, that does not stop us passing judgments, snippets of opinion that you feel better for airing. That is what this is for, a column every week, to air, not grievances, but thoughts, plain and simple.
P’s and Q’s. One of my greatest memories as a child, and even more so as a teenager, is the concept of manners. Instilled and drilled into me practically from birth their use was not a question or debate, it was a must, a necessity, and as my Mum would always adamantly state, “You will get nowhere in life without them.” My younger years, my childhood when I perhaps didn’t know any better, is speckled with fragmented memories of manners. Their use being applauded, going above and beyond to be the darling little blonde that my Mum would be proud of. Opening doors for the elderly, saying hello to passers by in the morning, offering to carry shopping; though I’m not sure how my 7 stone frame would in fact offer any great assistance. All the generic, stereotypical instances of “Manners” were expected of me- or at least to be attempted, a suggestion that despite my lack of real physical assistance, the thought was there. My manner memories may be so prominent, intrinsically stuck in my head, because I can remember the negative repercussions so vividly, in a way that only a child could. The smacked bums, disappointed faces and wagging fingers are carved into my brain, snippets of information reminding you of your wrongdoing; the psychology of parental persuasion. Grandparents were another fundamental reason for the focus on manners. Aside from good behavior, good grades and generally trying and failing to convince the world I was an angel, manners, again, were an essential. My Grandad was a war veteran, his views were instilled quickly and forcibly, and god knows you would always know if you had disappointed Grandad. A large gruff man, quick witted and sparky, he would make no bones about telling you “NO!” how something was wrong and should not be done next time. Despite this, he was a gentle giant, the one who would sneak me sweets and save me last slice of cake. This two-way street of mutual respect is what cemented manners as a integral element of my person, the simple please and thank you that should never be forgotten. You do not need to be genius to work out that manners have gone, evaporated somewhere in between technology, social media and fast paced busy lifestyles; leaving behind only fragments of what was. Last week I was on the busy commuter train, laden with a school full of little’uns, eleven or twelve lets say, sat in a gaggle, discussing lessons, who fancied who and so on and so forth. As the train pulled into the station an elderly couple waited on the platform, dressed to the nines, the lady wearing full makeup despite presumably being close to ninety. The man got on, carefully assisting his delicate spouse onto the train and into a seat. No seat was vacant for the man. Twenty or so children sat, exchanged glances and whispers, cogs whirring, contemplating taking heed of what their parents had intended for them to do in such a situation. Not a single child offered their seat. Not the class clown nor the A star student. I’m fairly sure all of these sprightly young things were more than capable of standing for the six-minute train journey, yet none of them moved. In laymen terms, where have manners gone? I don’t believe that parents would simply not teach their children such values; most themselves probably come from a generation, which still held them dear. Where along the line of communication have children disregarded manners? Is it that their parents have not instilled it with such force or are youngsters simply dismissing their parents, an act of defiant rebellion against their peers? Youngsters, though, I don’t believe are the only perpetrators of this crime. The elderly too are not innocent. Too frequently do I hold open a door for the elderly, only to be dismissed and ignored. Perhaps it is not just teens with an attitude problem. Manners have taught me not only to be polite, but to hold others, no matter who, in regard. To be considerate and mindful of others and their situation, despite how rude they may be. They are a small token of the past and previous values that will diminish if they do not continue to be upheld. In a world where you can like someone’s pictures without having met them, leave compliments and praise in seconds; surely we should maintain this last piece of physical courtesy. Maybe it has been lost in the realms of social media, where a notification is regarded more importantly; maybe dismissed altogether; but only in time will we see where this new communication progresses, whether old values with resurface or become lost in “Modern Manners”.
Lazy
When did we all get so lazy? Probably a cat in a previous life I would be quite content not moving, ever. Why limit lay-ins to Saturday mornings, why cook when you can order food, why walk when you can drive around the corner. My life seems to be a series of movement minimizing events, eliminating all forms of strenuous activity. As a child I was all about “Get Up And Go” first up, first out the door, first the down the beach. I was the “Outdoor-sy” child. Not surgically attached to a games console or pining for the latest toys, I was all about the forest. Dog walking, I was your girl. The whole of my Grandparents and I relationship was centered around the forest; the need to be outside, moving, marching, running in any which way direction. My Grandma still heeds her own advice to this day. Why sit when you can stand, why drive when you can walk, the same feeling I once possessed but all inclination has long gone. Her thoughts are that sleeping is for when your dead, don’t waste time doing it now. Don’t get me wrong, my Grandma is not the fifth member of The Rolling Stones, but she does like to get things done. At eighty she is the president of four quilt groups, an OAP group as well as being a full time carer for my Grandad. There is pretty much nothing stopping her, and I can’t remember there ever have been. How is it that someone of such an age has endless bounds of energy, not only that but motivation? Nothing is ever too much of chore or a hassle; there is a constant desire to go above and beyond, to look after everyone. Where does the root of the issue lie? Why do we love to be lazy? I say this messaging my housemate who lives one floor above me, not even the second, third, fourth floor marathon; a mere ten second dash up a flight of stairs. Is it technology? That old chestnut, or new, whichever way you decide to look at it, that we love to fall back on time and time again, blaming all societies problems on our technological advances. Perhaps because we have made life so easy for ourselves, we have in fact made it harder. You could live quite easily without moving anywhere; there is a device for everything. Mobiles so you don’t have to move to the landline, laptops so that you don’t have to sit at the computer, microwaves so that you don’t have to, really, cook anything. Apps. There is an app for everything, speeding up your already super fast laptop so that you can be lazy as well as impatient. Technology seems to spawn more and more bad habits! It seems unfair to put all these predicaments onto technologies already heavy shoulders. Human nature is to blame, inevitably. It is our wants, needs and desires that make the world go round, despite what it may seem as we sit with our four of five Apple products surrounding us. Why is laziness such a bad thing when you really think about it? Doctors tell you enough that stress is bad for you, a strain on the heart and bad for your blood pressure. Have we become a nation, world maybe that is obsessed with being “Busy”? If your social calendar is not packed it is frowned upon, followed by a look of a pity and a smile. When people holiday they cannot switch off, trailed like ball and chain by the stresses of home. We have become seduced by “Busy”, looking more popular and efficient that the last, making the most of your time, not sitting like a slob on your sofa watching Corrie. Addicted to the adrenaline of a 12hour day. I suppose it comes down to a happy medium, a meet in the middle comprise between becoming an oaf and compromising your health. Whether we take any notice is another matter.
We’re cutting it.
By Rhiannon Bliss Hardie