Segue 2006

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contents for the taboo issue issue four_2006 two four six ten twelve sixTeen eightTeen twentyTwo twentyFour twentySix thirty thirtyTwo forty fortyTwo fortySix fortyEight fiftyTwo fiftyFour fiftySix fiftyEight sixtyTwo sixtyFour sixtySix sixtyEight seventy seventyOne seventyTwo seventySix eighty

over the counter culture le freak c’est chic break through tales of a fast girl death becomes her bewitched, bothered and bewildered dare to bare looking for the lost hour embrace the lace savage beauty prime mark 7 deadly sins c-change sin city breast isn’t best you got me burnin’ up gay for prey some taboo with that, sir? kate the great rule britannia crown jewels sofa so good lady and the tramps come closer BR2 (Brazil x Britain) loathe thy neighbour ménage à trois the graduates mind over matter

Charlotte Pearn Lucy Reber Daniel Authen Moe Emma-Jane Haigh Clare Bastin Eric Down Julia Brenard Sarah Mellis Kimberley Thrower Gemma Ward Julia Brenard

Rachel Crossan Amaya Alvarez Louisa Tucker Eric Down Rachel Dartmouth Denise Morgan Callie Adams Charlotte Pearn Tereska Ebanks Charlotte Pearn Cassie Fitzpatrick Daniel Authen Moe Mariana Velloso Michelle Cato Ceri Chang

Sarah Watkins

Editorial Editor(s)-In-Chief: Deborah Lampitt, Alexia Economou, Glenn Waldron and Alyson Walsh Editor: Clare Bastin Deputy Editor: Rachel Crossan Features Editor: Charlotte Pearn Fashion Editor: Julia Brenard Fashion Assistant: Callie Adams Production Manager: Ceri Chang Copy Editors: Josie Smart & Emma-Jane Haigh PR & Events: Louisa Tucker Art directior: Robert de Niet Picture Editor: Kimberley Thrower Design Assistant: Jon Hyer & Mariana Velloso Photography: Eddie Bovingdon Illustrations: Francine Catley Printed by: Lamplight group, 7/8 Lyndean Estate, Felixstowe Road, London SE2 9SG www.lamplightgroup.com Thanks to: The University College for the Creative Arts @ Epsom, and the lecturers who have worked on the course James Anderson, Annie Davies, Alexia Economou, Chris Morris, Rob de Niet, Brenda Polan, Jack Taylor, Glenn Waldron, Alyson Walsh and Laurie Yule Published by: BA Fashion Journalism, The University College for the Creative Arts @ Epsom, Faculty of Fashion & Communication (Epsom) Enquiries For more information about any of the work in ‘segue’ please contact: Deborah Lampitt, Course Leader, BA(Hons) Fashion Journalism, Faculty of Fashion & Communication (Epsom Campus), University College for the Creative Arts @ Epsom, Ashley Road, Epsom, Surrey, KT18 5BE. Tel: 01372 202 490 eMail: dlampitt@ucreative.ac.uk All rights reserved. For educational purposes only. segue is a collection of Stage Three BA (Hons) Fashion Journalism projects and has no commercial value. No part of this publication may be reproduced in whole or part without written permission from the publishers. © 2006 BA (Hons) Fashion Journalism, University College of the Creative Arts @ Epsom, Faculty of Fashion & Communication.

The views expressed in segue are those of the respective contributors and are not necessarily shared by the course, its staff or the University College of the Creative Arts @ Epsom these parties cannot be held responsible for them. segue is published once a year.

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Over the counter culture

Cough medicine was once the stuff of screwed up faces and turned up noses, but that was before pleasure entered the equation. Charlotte Pearn explores why, in the age of recreational pharmacology, a spoonful of self-medicated ecstasy goes down all too easily – no sugar required.

Drugs used to be dirty vices for the weak of will and corrupt of mind. To pursue a habit was to lurk in the underworld, pawning off your morals for a murky thrill. But somewhere along the way the harsh light softened; the grunge turned to glamour, and the hardcore drugs industry took a pharmaceutical sojourn.

The one-time cokeheads and speed freaks began to linger at the gateway of more accessible habits, loping into the pharmacy for their unconventional scores.

Unlike psychedelic drugs, cough medicine trades on the hygienically clean image of the medical industry, marketing itself as a symbol of public health and welfare. Yet, scratch beneath the surface and therein lies a class B narcotic, which has the potential to cause liver failure or induce an early death. It exploits that most curious of paradoxes; how can something so fundamentally good for us contain such an unsavoury promise?

Cough medicine has not always occupied such a controversial space in the public consciousness. Onceupon-a-prescription it was merely a therapeutic remedy for tickly coughs and tender throats. But that was all before the nihilists got their hands on the medicine bottle, and quite literally tipped it upside down. In the fallout of over-the-counter addiction, cough syrup has ignited a fiery stand-off between health and hedonism; on one side it appeals to our sense of wellbeing, but on the other, it entices our darker desires.

“Taking cough medicine is like entering another world,” muses self-confessed addict, Dan Johnson. Now aged 23, he treats his three-year “laryngitis” (cough-cough) with a cocktail of over-thecounter remedies. “You have to build up your dose all of the time, but when you hit the next level, it completely tips the scales. It’s surreal; like there’s videotape running through your brain. Only it’s in slow motion.”

That’s what the chemist doesn’t want you to know. Exceeding the recommended daily dose not only defies the statutory advice leaflet; it contravenes unwritten codes of self-preservation, and plays with the very notion that pleasure must somehow be dangerous.

“There is something thrilling, almost erotic, about taking a drug that is socially reviled,” enthuses self-confessed addict Ella McRae. “Cough medicine may not violate the law in the same ways as, say heroin or cocaine, but it still feeds the taboo that surrounds substance abuse.”

Codeine, the active constituent of most overthe-counter cough suppressants is legislated under the Misuse of Drugs Act 1975, which (in spite of some optimistic rumours) prohibits its recreational use. It doesn’t, however, curb its availability. On the contrary, codeine-based linctuses nestle conveniently in every high street pharmacy, languishing next to indigestion remedies and fortified multi-vitamins. No wonder the medicine spoon has stirred such a commotion in the pleasure-seeking community.

In 2005, nearly 3000 cases of cough medicine abuse were reported to the support group Over Count; and of those, approximately a third involved people

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under the age of 25. “We used to just deal with addictions that followed on from legitimate treatments,” says Over Count founder David Grieve. “But now people are experimenting just for the sake of it. They purposefully visit the chemist in search of an accessible thrill – young people more so than anyone else.”

Youth culture has always had its chemical associations. Take the 1980s symbiotic affair with Ecstasy. Fizzing on the tongues of the masses, Ecstasy became a symbol of the rave generation. Even today the little white pill is a monument to the sweat-drenched abandon of acid-house. So why such an affinity between subcultures and drugs?

Drug abuse is the widely adopted motif of youth rebellion. To imbibe a chemical is to thrust two fingers up at the straight establishment, and refuse the vicious onslaught of adulthood. But it is no generic act of revolt. Each generation searches for a substance that will resonate with their personal version of angst. It’s not enough to find a drug that simply says ‘fuck off’; it has to scream fuck off with feeling.

Like all significant shifts in drug culture, today’s over-the-counter impulse has been triggered by social flux. The hedonistic excess of the indie-rock scene has been replaced by a gentler, more melancholic vibe. Slower rhythms, lighter melodies and more intuitive lyrics demand a decelerated drug experience. The upshot is that youths have turned their back on the white-hot thrill of Class A’s, in search of a softer narcotic ride.

Ironically, it is the godfather of hard drugs, who has set the context for this change in pace. Pete Doherty and his errant following have wound down the tempo of London’s high living, and created a more intimate scene. Their exclusive gatherings in Doherty’s Albion Rooms have laid the foundations for a pharmaceutical revolution.

“It doesn’t feel like the party’s ended; it’s just shifted gear. Everything’s slower and more cerebral,” explains one member of the Doherty entourage. Jack Knight has grown up around drugs; his CV is an impressive list of chemical formulae, covering everything from crack to cannabis. “I do drugs because they’re out there to be done,” he says candidly. “When I tried cough medicine, it was just another opportunity to experiment. I didn’t expect to like it this much.” For Knight ‘like’ equates to a four bottle-a-day kind of appeal.

Cough medicine first came to the attention of the masses in the 1960s, establishing its name amongst the free-loving hippies of the counter-culture. Just like the popular psychedelics of the era – LSD, magic mushrooms and acid – it promised a heady trip that would subvert the reality of every day life. “Back then it was all about escapism,” elaborates one-time leader of the Youth Liberation Front, Laurel Smith.

“We didn’t care about the consequences, or the costs to our health. We just dabbled in the medicine cabinet, hoping that something would make us feel better about ourselves and our situations.”

That may have been forty years ago, but the will to escape is still burning strong. The self-serving masses continue to seek pleasure at an experiential remove.

Ever since clause 21 of the Drugs Act 2005 rendered magic mushrooms criminal, there’s been a giddy quest to fill the gap in the legal – or at least semi-legal – drugs market. After all, everyone likes a legal score. In the same way that the arrival of Psyche Deli stalls marked a space for narcotic experimentation, cough medicine has opened the drugs market to a broader demographic. Those, who once fell shy of the legal profession, relax in the knowledge that a cough medicine habit comes with a receipt (if not a money-back guarantee).

But unlike the aestheticized sale of shrooms, which relied on coloursaturated billboards and psychedelic slogans, cough medicine has emerged as its own promotional machine. Its popularity, like a viral infection, has spread on the back of speculative rumour (‘Have you heard the one about the medicine that gets people high?’). But this time the punch line is no joke. “Codeine is a mild narcotic analgesic, similar to, but much less potent than morphine,” explains toxicologist, John Ramsey.

“It relaxes the body by binding to the opoid receptors in the brain. As a result it makes users feel calm and more at ease.”

Out of the alchemy of desire the chemist has yielded a novel solution to an age-old problem: how to score a high with minimal effort required. Where previously people chased the answer along a high-premium line of white powder, the particularly modern response is to knock back a £4.50 bottle of self-medicated bliss. If anything, cough medicine represents drugs culture at its most democratic. After all, where else can you get cognitive transcendence for less than ten pounds? For the kids it is defiance, for the adults, diversion, but for the blanket audience, cough medicine is simply an available, attainable pleasure.

Illustrations: Francine Catley

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Le Freak, C’est Chic

Lucy Reber investigates whether Galliano’s latest show was a genuine attempt to redefine fashion’s idea of beauty or a cynical, attention-grabbing ploy.

John Galliano’s S/S 06 show caused quite a stir. The clothes were as exquisite as usual. Corsets cinched, chiffons flowed and sequins sparkled, as prime examples of colour, cut and design all in perfect harmony. What caused the ensuing uproar had nothing to do with the clothes, though. The unusual aspect of this show was, in fact, the models.

Galliano cast an extreme mix of real people to showcase his collection. Inspired by the vibrant streets of Buenos Aires, he filled the catwalk with effervescent characters. Majestic giants strode alongside seasoned beauties, voluptuous vixens were paired with muscled dancers and the final bridal pair were dwarves.

In the words of fashion writer Camilla Morton, ‘thank God for Galliano.’ Indeed, it seems rare for a designer to challenge the myth that beauty is defined by leg length and waist size. How refreshing for the jaded fashion press to have a breath of fresh air in the form of this outlandish show!

Galliano’s message was loud and clear - that everyone is beautiful. What a good point, and what a beautiful, inspiring show. But what a disappointment then that he did not continue this theme in his A/W 06 offering. Gone were the striking characters from his S/S 06 collection. In their place strode identikit beauties with long, lean limbs and pretty faces obscured by severe make up.

So what was the point? Why produce a radical, thought-provoking show one season, only to revert to the lacklustre norm the next? Galliano must have changed his mind - apparently everyone is not so beautiful after all. It seems that the show was not an attempt to change fashion’s perception of beauty, but instead a headline spinning stunt perhaps. These real models now seem just a novelty, wheeled out for one season. It does not seem right that people are being paraded around as a passing trend. Up and coming womenswear designer Kim O’Donovan insists, ‘If I decided to use larger models in my shows then I would stick to that decision and use them in all my shows. For me it would be a career choice, not a catwalk choice.’

This is, unfortunately, not a new concept in the fickle world of fashion. Galliano is not the only designer who has deferred from the modelling norm to make a sudden impact. Issey Miyake adopted octogenarian models for one season and Alexander McQueen also used Paralympics athlete Aimee Mullins, who has prosthetic legs, for his S/S 99 show. But where are these

models now? They have hardly become mainstream.

It is certainly not the norm to flick through Vogue and see the face of an elegant disabled model alongside the usual emaciated mannequins.

Even Sophie Dahl, who is still a well known fashion face nearly ten years on from her sensational debut, cannot be held up as someone who has broken the beauty mould. Rather she has been broken down to fit into it. She began her career as a voluptuous size 14, extolling the virtues of chocolate cake and abhorring the idea of dieting. In one of her earliest interviews she talked of pitying models that were on strict diets, saying it was not humanly possible to be so thin and dismissing it as sick. However, she is now rather thin herself and has lost the ‘too much sex, food and love’ vibe that compelled Tom Ford to hire her for the YSL Opium advert, back in 2000.

Although there is a positive side to the fashion industry embracing older, disabled or larger models, has it actually changed anything? The industry celebrates these women as diverse examples of beauty, before returning once again to the tried and tested formula.

Designers such as Galliano will not make a difference (even if they want to) unless they continue to break the taboos they begin to address. It would be such a positive statement if models such as those from Galliano’s S/S 06 show became regulars on the catwalks, rather than passing fads.

One fashion figure who does seem to continually push forwards and attempt to redefine ideas of beauty is photographer Nick Knight. In the past Knight has put a size 16 model in Vogue and shot older models for a Levis campaign. He funded and launched his own website SHOWstudio in 2000, where he is able to pursue projects without censure. He confessed to the Sunday Times Style, ‘I get frustrated by magazines – there are enormous restrictions on what sort of model you can use, how old, how fat, how thin, what colour.’

He clearly finds it baffling that the fashion industry presents only one type of woman to the world.

Eventually magazines may display beauty in every form. As Knight explained to The Times, fashion photography ‘is a very powerful medium for political and social work.’ So why don’t more creatives harness this power? More should be done to promote a positive image of beauty for everyone. Because Galliano is right, everyone is beautiful. But with the realisation that his show was a one-off rather than a brave new beginning, it becomes less of a brave statement and more of a theatrical parade.

“Why produce a radical, thoughtprovoking show one season, only to revert to the lacklustre norm the next?”

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Title: Daniels shoot

BReAk thRouGh Styling Daniel Authen Moe Photography June Witzoe Hair Doan Tran @ Olimb & Co Make-up Jan Gunnar Svenson

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this page left Dress Jenny Hellstrom Gloves Mind Boots Mind Belt Bison Stockings Pamela Mann right Vest Dolce & Gabbana Gloves Mind Pumps Vintage Necklace Stylist’s own

previous page left Shirt Gant Woman Vest Whyred Jeans Lee Pumps InWear Belt Merete Fonnesberg right Leather jacket Turnover Vest Dolce & Gabbana Jeans Whyred Pumps InWear Necklace Stylist’s own (All clothes autumn/winter 06/07)

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I used to Be a fast woman.

Not iN the

-rAteD

sense, But iN A personaL velocity sense.

Not AnymoRE 12 segue

tALes Of A fAst GiRL

Emma-Jane Haigh embarked on what would become a life-changing experiment; to enjoy life in the slow lane.

I used to be a fast woman. Not in the x-rated sense, but in a personal-velocity sense. Eating, walking, shopping, talking, even showering… everything I did was at triple time, ‘Energizer Bunny’ pace. And the more that was put in front of me, the harder I hit the accelerator pedal. The alarm clock hardly beeped in the morning before it was swept aside in the stampede to the bathroom, and yet another day of wheel-spinning acceleration began. The only way to meet my targets, get the chores done and extract some pleasure from life was a never-ending competition with my greatest enemy – the God of Time.

One day, I whizzed past the table eating a slice of toast for breakfast and noticed my kitchen clock; it read 9:30am. By 9:33am I was finished. Bearing in mind that this was a Sunday and there was no imminent meeting, appointment or class flashing up on the screen of my Blackberry, I decided to see just how many other activities were being hijacked by haste. Shower (including exfoliating, shaving and body brushing), six minutes; cleaning the entire flat, 22 minutes; doing a week’s worth of shopping at Sainsbury’s, 14 minutes. I began to think about my life. Did it really only take 15 minutes to prepare supper for my friends last weekend? Did I even enjoy it? Could my whole masterplan for a happy and successful life be flawed? Fatally flawed?

I sat back and thought about it all – who could actually sustain my pace of life? And anyway, given it was achievable, was it desirable? Admittedly, I know some people who, by comparison, get more done before 9am than I accomplish all day. But what’s frustrating is to think that I ought to be doing more when I am already accomplishing enough to be labelled ‘supersonic.’ The fact is, no matter how much you do, there will always be someone who can do more and do it faster and thus making you feel guilty by comparison. But is it even worth it? The truth is, my busiest times are almost never the times I am most satisfied with my life. I simply can’t do everything and have it all without paying for it. The paradox of over-extension showed up when I stopped to examine it. It was this: we are cheating the people we love by trying to do more for them. The supposedly less critical areas suffer the most – personal relationships. I decided that an attitude adjustment was needed. Rather than beating the clock with every second of the day and not experiencing any of it, prioritisation was needed. I would do the things, like work, that had to be done and then get the most from my leisure time by choosing the things I really wanted to do, and doing them properly.

So my voyage of discovery began. Three weeks of ‘going slow.’ Not weeks in which I throw up my hands and just give up, but methodical, planned weeks.

Opening my Filofax, the clutter had to go. Staring down at the blanked-out activities that had once filled up all my waking moments, I felt a twinge of guilt. Soon after, the guilt turned to panic, especially when I woke up on the first day and had nowhere to rush to. In the shower I moved in slow motion, focusing on the feeling of warm water spilling over my head, inhaling the scent of my honey-almond body wash – perhaps this wasn’t going to be so bad after all!

Normal speed at first felt slow and somewhat alien. Sometimes I would catch myself switching into quickstep (especially whilst running errands) and had to remind myself to walk twice as slowly. Guided by some good tips from ‘slow gurus’ such as Carl Honore and Christopher Richards, I turned off my mobile/TV/PC in non-essential times. The flat seemed so eerie and after pottering around aimlessly, aggravated that I would be missing Neighbours, I perched on the edge of the sofa somewhat disillusioned. After a while, I picked up a novel that was handily placed on the coffee table (one of the recommended tactics for treating the fidgets). Rather surprisingly, within a matter of minutes my foot had stopped tapping and I had managed to completely focus my attention – a miracle.

Inviting friends for a yoga session on Saturday afternoon was an entirely new experience, one in which I discovered exercise is bliss - unlike a harassed weekend shopping trip. I retreated home to prepare a special, slow-cooked dinner for my boyfriend, a rarity I knew he would appreciate. Cooking felt surprising relaxing, I even tried my hand at baking his favourite pudding for the evening, sticky toffee sponge. His face lit up when he saw my efforts and I blushed with delight. This novel new experience was miles away from my usual two minute rummage in the fridge, but so much more satisfying – the wholesome aroma and the nurturing feeling inside my stomach could not have been recreated in minutes. During dinner I sat at the table and concentrated on the magnificent flavours and textures of my food, why had I never noticed these things before?

After a few challenging days and many stops and starts, my recent lifestyle change seemed to be working. I have found that a measured, contemplative approach delivers more satisfaction and surprisingly a better dividend on the time invested. My partner, friends and family noticed that my pace had slowed – I have time to go for evening walks, cook proper Sunday dinners from scratch and most importantly, I’m content.

Others have started to envy me, not because I can do more than ten people, but because I enjoy the work of one very satisfied person.

Sometimes the flat-out approach is needed, but often it’s not about who does the most; it’s about who gets most out of it.

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Clare Bastin unearths the mysteries and secrets surrounding the death-care industry and finds out why more and more women are choosing to work with the dead.

Sheila Dicks is one of a growing number of women working in the funeral business. For the past thirty years she has arranged funerals and embalmed bodies every day, a rather unusual job for a lady. Sheila jokes about how she got involved with it all. “Oh it was a complete accident! My parents died when I was young and I came to live with a family who took me in as if I was one of their own children. I read one of their books on funeral directing and it spiralled on from there.”

What is more surprising is that Sheila gave up a career in midwifery, at the opposite end of the spectrum, for the funeral business – or as Sheila more eloquently puts it from ‘cradle to the grave’. “The funny thing is that funeral directing is very like midwifery,” explains Sheila. “You get to know a family for about three or four weeks. They rely on you because they really aren’t sure how to cope themselves. Whether a new baby arrives or another member of the family departs, their lives will never be the same.”

Much of Sheila’s time is now spent in a role as principal tutor at the Salisbury College of Funeral Sciences, which she set up in 1985. Half of the students are women and Sheila passionately believes this is the way forward. “Women make excellent funeral directors and embalmers. You need to be sensitive, artistic, strong and, of course, be able to empathise with clients,” asserts Sheila. “Women are very good at doing several jobs at the same time, something a funeral director does everyday.”

Sheila is only too aware of the pitfalls of being a woman in a male-dominated field. “When I started the college I had a revolution on my hands. Back then it was mostly men in the industry and they didn’t understand that compassion was a necessity in this line of work,” she says. “As far as they were concerned, they had to fill in a form, collect the body, put it in a coffin and take it to the crematorium. They all saw me as some crazy woman, spouting rubbish about caring for the clients.

Even now they’re probably still thinking, ‘there goes that silly bloody woman’.”

There’s an embalming class later today. The look of horror must show, as she quickly adds that it’s not practical, just theory today. “Embalming is wonderful, the best job in the world. It is like an art,” Sheila says excitedly. The thought of spending two hours with a dead body send shivers down one’s spine – and Sheila admits she does like to have company, “I often get one of my students to help out as part of their training, otherwise it gets a bit lonely.”

In the eyes of the law, anyone can become a funeral director. “Legally you could go home, put up a brass plate and say you were a funeral director or, even more worrying, an embalmer and go ‘round chopping people up however you like. It’s the craziest thing,” says Sheila. The thought of someone practising as a funeral director or embalmer without formal training is a disturbing prospect and Sheila is one of the

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campaigners trying to change the law. In the meantime, all established funeral parlours only employ those who have studied the appropriate qualifications. The Funeral College offers courses in health and hygiene, management, accounting, bereavement care and embalming.

Many of the students (who Sheila refers to as ‘her children’) still keep in touch. There have even been three marriages from within their ranks. Sheila speaks so tenderly about her students that it is genuinely heartwarming. It is easy to see why people can’t let her go. Take, for example, one recent occasion at the parlour. “I went up to one of the lads who was looking upset, and I asked him what was the matter. He said, ‘Sheila, what can I say when they look at me and say, why him?’ Obviously it had hurt him that he couldn’t answer the question,” says Sheila. “In this situation it was important there was somebody there to give him a hug. None of us are too big to have a hug.”

Suddenly, Sheila remembers that there is a class in ten minutes and apologises for ‘rabbiting on’.

The college is used as an overspill of the funeral parlour, where families come to view their deceased. There is a gathering of people in one of the rooms and a group of six people chatting and drinking tea in the kitchen.

One of the men is entertaining everyone with his horror stories from Nigeria. Sheila explains that Jason recently spent three weeks out there setting up an embalming theatre. As I look around the room I’m surprised to see a mixture of young people in their twenties and thirties who look extraordinarily normal.

The lesson begins. Sheila has a relaxed teaching method and rewards students with an enthusiastic ‘Good girl!’ or ‘Good boy!’ There’s a skeleton, affectionately called Arthur, to her left.

Hangings on the wall display phrases such as, ‘Any day above ground is a good day’ and ‘Free Funerals Here’.

Shelves are littered with jars containing brown and yellow liquids, and lamb kidneys from the local abattoir.

Every so often the conversation turns to how wonderful the human body is and whether there is a God or not.

During the class students discuss anatomy and cover issues from the function of the pancreas to why we sweat. The level of knowledge is impressive; everyone is genuinely passionate about the subject.

After the class Jason hands over some embalming literature he thinks might be useful. He has been embalming for fifteen years and recently became a tutor at the college. “It’s about time we came out from behind the scenes, says Jason. “Embalming isn’t given the respect it deserves. Making a deceased loved one presentable and identifiable is a crucial part of the funeral business. It helps people say goodbye and remember them as they were.”

Will Case and Partners embalm 98% of their (deceased) clients. Dedicated members of staff can take up to twenty-nine hours embalming the worst cases.

These range from car-crash victims whose features are unrecognisable, to cases of advanced decomposition.

Because of this, is the job well paid? “People

Death

BEcomes segue 13

think it’s a lucrative business but it’s not,” he insists. “I started off on £7,000 per year and the average wage is £14,000 per year. We don’t do this for the money. We do it because we care.”

Embalming can be gruelling work. On average, three hours is spent with each client, draining their blood, injecting preserving liquid and setting features.

Embalmers are also expected to wash and style the hair and apply make-up. Jason believes that women make better embalmers than men. “Women are perfect because [most] have a natural flair for caring and an eye for detail. Trying to teach men how to dress hair is sometimes impossible, but women tend to pick it up straight away.” It’s not everybody’s cup of tea and some embalmers won’t touch children because they find it too upsetting. Jason claims some even have a phobia of feet. He proudly announces that he has embalmed every single body he’s come across and they have all been viewed.

Leanne, a 27 year-old, joins the conversation and says that she loves the embalming process. “I’m from Australia and came over to England for a year. I saw this programme on embalming and I was fascinated.

I made some enquiries and here I am,” she says. “My friends and family thought I’d gone completely mad when I told them but they’ve accepted it now and are really supportive. I go back in six months’ time and plan to carry on my training there.”

Next is a grand tour of the building. In the garage, Sheila points out all of the coffins. The conversation goes quiet as we look at the children’s coffins. Sheila explains that they are made of bamboo and eco-friendly. Flowers are usually threaded through them so that they are easier for parents to look at. In the waiting suite, where relatives come and sit before they view their loved one, the room is set out like

14 segue

someone’s living room with settees and coffee tables – all that’s missing is a TV.

Sheila goes into the chapel. There’s a coffin in the middle of the room. An elderly woman is lying in state - in a pink nightdress. It’s surprising to see how peaceful she looks, albeit a strange grey colour. Sheila starts to stroke Ella’s hair and talk to her. Picking up one of her limp hands, Sheila says, ‘Oh dear you are looking a little peaky, but nothing that a little make-up won’t sort out.’

There is bruising on Ella’s arms which is not a result of the embalming but rather because she had rheumatism. She looks frail, her legs sunken and one wonders if her family will remember her like this.

The coffin lid is leaning against the wall, engraved with the words, ‘Ella at Rest, 96 years old’. Everyone is whispering, almost as if she can still hear, but then Sheila insists on treating the dead as if they were alive. “We can’t forget that these are people,” she says compassionately. Upon leaving, Ella is thanked for her time and although it feels strange, it also seems somehow right.

Along one corridor, all the doors are painted baby pink, “to make it look less like a morgue”. It’s ironic that the next room visited is called the waiting room. Here the bodies are kept cold, to preserve them before they’re embalmed. It conjures up sneaky images of people getting impatient and trying to jump the queue. Sheila is keen to point out that it’s not a freezer.

“Chickens should be kept in a freezer, not humans,” she says forcefully.

Before leaving, Sheila reveals a small plastic blue hippo she carries around. A former student sent it to her, it’s supposed to bring good luck. “This tells you what kind of people we are,” she says with a nod. Now where does one find one of those?

“Embalming can be gruelling work.

On average, three hours is spent with each client, draining their blood, injecting preserving liquid and setting features.

Embalmers are then also expected to wash and style the hair and apply make-up� segue 15

Illustrations: Francine Catley

Despite the hype and breathless anticipation Hollywood’s night of a thousand stars passes with barely a wheeze, says Eric Down.

If there is one thing we can learn from the fickle worlds of fashion and celebrity, it’s this: planning is everything. In the golden days of the studio system, stars were polished until they shone brighter than any constellation in the heavens.

Grooming was elevated to an art form. Makeup was immaculate. Hair was styled to perfection. Breathtaking gowns were de rigueur. Then came the dark days of grunge and nineties heroin chic, when it was deemed perfectly acceptable to appear as if one had been dragged backwards, kicking and screaming through a rat infested slum.

Those days, mercifully, are no more. In recent years Hollywood revived its grand love affair with the evening gown and transformed the red carpet in to the most desirable catwalk of them all. Matters of the heart, however are rarely straight forward and, like the tide, are subject to ebbs and flows. Tragically, it appears that the highbrow and frankly, overwhelmingly serious subject matter of this year’s best picture nominees cast a weighty (and dowdy) shadow over what should have been Tinseltown’s most glittering event of the year. While undoubtedly a triumph for intelligent and thought provoking cinema at its best, Sunday’s Oscars proved a damp squib for millions of frock watchers worldwide, as a cortege of funereal black wound its way down a red carpet littered with fashion casualties.

Kudos to Charlize Theron for attempting to push the golden envelope in her structured Dior but the South African beauty seemed swamped by the severe, architectural lines of her haute couture gown. Theron’s overly ambitious choice marked a rare misstep for the star, whose fashion sense is usually pitch perfect, as evidenced by the enchanting, midnight blue Lanvin she wore to this year’s BAFTA awards in London. Conversely, Nicole Kidman’s admittedly exquisite embroidered ivory Balenciaga sheath seemed an oddly safe (and suspiciously bridal) choice for a renowned fashion maverick. The gown’s pallid tone left the ephemeral Antipodean looking washed out as opposed to the - presumably - intended radiance. This commentator couldn’t help but wish that these fierce fashion rivals had shared a limo and swapped gowns enroute over a giggly flute or two of Cristal.

Kidman’s compatriot and close friend Naomi Watts barely escaped the clutches of King Kong on her way to the Shine Auditorium, if her shredded lace Givenchy frock was anything to go by. The sylph-like star of ‘21 Grams’ looked unfortunately broad in the beam in her Miss Havisham inspired gown. Though the nude tone was perfect with her flawless peaches and cream complexion, the dainty star was swamped by the acres of tatty lace, tulle and oversized corsage detailing.

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Also pretty in pastels was ‘Alias’ star Jennifer Garner but the screen spy managed to get the proportions just right, showcasing her recently regained figure perfectly.

The blooming first time mother was a breath of fresh air in her bead encrusted Michael Kors. Husband Ben Affleck was left at home on babysitting duty but perhaps Garner could have done with the steadying hand of an escort as she tripped on the hem of her empire line gown while ascending the stage to present an award.

The ‘13 Going On 30’ beauty quickly recovered her poise quipping, “I do all my own stunts”, and received thunderous applause from a delighted audience.

Felicity Huffman may have lost out to Reece Witherspoon in the race for the coveted Best Actress statuette, but the ‘Transamerica’ star beat her competitor by a country mile in the final sprint for ‘Best Dressed’. The racy Mrs. Macy dazzled in a dynamite plunge fronted Zac Posen with sheer side panels and softly pleated fishtail skirt. Huffman gave her basic black some serious jazz with $1.9 million platinum and diamond drop earrings from jeweller Martin Katz. Witherspoon, with one eye firmly on the title of America’s Sweetheart, looked more like a Sunday school teacher who had raided the haberdashery store before heading for the town hoedown, than a Hollywood powerhouse in her saccharinely sweet ribbon and crystal bedecked Christian Dior. A sensation as June Carter Cash in ‘Walk the Line’, this Southern Belle should walk the plank for her ‘Princess Barbie’ inspired fashion faux pas.

Walking the plank should be old news for ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ star Keira Knightly who must have been at the rum or else taking some ill-advised style advice from Forrest Gump. Life may very well be like a box of chocolates, but that doesn’t mean one should turn up to the Academy Awards dressed like a

box of Milk Tray, no matter how much the lady loves it. Knightly’s aubergine, asymmetrical Vera Wang and faux-gothic makeup were poised to the point of regal but far too aging for the pretty up-and-comer. Clarence House called Keira - they want Camilla’s wardrobe back.

Fellow Brit Rachel Weisz picked up the accessory of the evening for her role in thriller ‘The Constant Gardener’ and would have been the belle of the ball had designer Narcisco Rodriguez not entombed the blossoming mother-to-be in such a lack lustre and distinctly unflattering black shroud of a dress. Both girls could take tips from the ever-radiant Dame Judi Dench on dressing their age. Dench upstaged her younger rivals with elegance and panache in an Eastern inspired mint shalwar from designer Abu Sandeep. Other disappointments included Best Supporting Actress nominee Amy Adams, more Wednesday Addams in a chocolate brown disaster from Carolina Herrera, and Jennifer Aniston - blah in a black Rochas ballgown.

Classy, yes, elegant, yes, but ...yawn...haven’t we seen it all before? Not what the (newly) single girl-about-town should be aiming for.

The evening was not without its highlights; ‘Sin City’ actress Jessica Alba blazed brighter than the California sun, sending male temperatures soaring in a shimmering gold Versace halter neck, with lace front and the, by now, ubiquitous fishtail train. An old school Lana Turner-esque up-do and simple accessories meant the dazzling Alba easily outshone fellow Latina and red carpet veteran Jennifer Lopez, whose guacamole coloured Lily et Cie vintage frock would seem to indicate that the surprisingly still-married star’s fashion sense has gone the way of her once red hot movie career.

Alba’s ‘Sin City’ co-star, Brittany Murphy, matched her amethyst hued Roberto Cavalli frock to her effervescent personality bringing a much-needed ray of sunshine to

the evening’s overwhelmingly drab proceedings. A thigh high slit and Veronica Lake hair added sex appeal.

The fact that the gentlemen’s attire for the evening effortlessly outclassed their female counterparts eloquently illustrates how disappointing the majority of the gowns chosen by the ladies were - without disrespecting the men in any way.

Best Supporting Actor George Clooney stepped smoothly into Cary Grant’s long vacant shoes with charm and style in a two-button tuxedo with satin edged lapels.

‘Hustle and Flow’ star and Best Actor nominee Terrence Howard was a modern day Richard Burton - sexy with an intoxicatingly dangerous edge - in a razor sharp tuxedo with diamond lapel pin and white rose buttonhole. And while best actress nominee Michelle Williams should have left her overpowering red lipstick up on ‘Brokeback Mountain’, partner Heath Ledger was positively dapper in a made to measure Dunhill tuxedo with peak lapels.

The evening’s other fashion winners included Uma Thurman, resplendent in a show stopping Versace - naturally. The screen assassin pulled a killer look out of the bag showcasing her best assets in a fitted pastel chiffon gown with pearl drop earrings and a softly tousled upswept chignon. Double Oscar winner Hilary Swank played it safe in basic black but the “Million Dollar Baby” was a knockout in her curve hugging Calvin Klein. Mexico’s hottest export, Salma Hayek, made it a clean sweep for the resurgent Donatella Versace in her turquoise satin and chiffon gown from the Italian mistress of red carpet glamour.

But for every Hilary, Salma and Uma who got it right there was an Amy Adams who...didn’t. It seems incomprehensible however, that in an age when designers scrabble for an opportunity to dress a star for the biggest night of the fashion calendar, and those star’s have unprecedented access to a veritable army of stylists and trend advisors to help them choose the right designer, that so many of them should have gotten it so drastically wrong. Perhaps Hollywood’s latest crop of aspiring screen darlings should look to the past before getting dressed in the future.

Red carpet moments don’t come any more memorable than Elizabeth Taylor’s appearance at the 1970 Academy Awards. Her dress, in ephemeral lavender chiffon, was especially created for the occasion, by legendary Hollywood costumier Edith Head. The precariously low neckline showcased the 69-carat, pear shaped Cartier diamond at her throat - a gift of love from the man on her arm. The irreplaceable Richard Burton. A woman in love but also, a woman with devastatingly fabulous taste.

Over the top? Certainly. Too much? Never. Money can’t buy you love but it should certainly buy you a decent dress. Hollywood take note.

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This season’s lingerie is not just for private viewing. Julia Brenard exposes all with the latest underwear as outerwear trend.

Whether peeking over a top, showing through sheer material or glimpsed through skirts, lingerie was literally everywhere on the catwalks this season. The outerwear as underwear trend is officially back, though this time it’s staying away from the 1980s style corsetbound vixens and focusing more on vintage boudoir chic. An easy yet utterly sexy trend to adopt, it will have lingerie lovers rummaging through scented paper-lined drawers for their favourite pieces. After all, underwear as outerwear is the perfect excuse to indulge and show off your collection.

The look does not have to be particularly revealing, but it is undoubtedly very sexy and seductive.

Designers indulging in this trend adopted it in different ways. At Dior, lingerie designs had been cleverly printed onto the clothes. Barely-there nude slips decorated with black lace prints created a sensual feel.

At D&G, the collection might have appeared virginal and innocent at first glance, but up close one could spot sexy lingerie winking through the pureness.

Sheer white lace dresses showed off silk and lace triangle bras. Corset tops were teamed with hot pants and boy shorts were glimpsed through floaty skirts.

‘Moulin Rouge’ styling prevailed at Dolce & Gabbana with black lace lingerie and blood red dresses.

Bloomers and stockings paraded down the catwalk together with lingerie detailing on all the clothes. Black underwear contrasted with white cotton pieces and checked material was decorated with lingerie inspired ribbon.

Lace was an important part of this trend, appearing in various different guises on the catwalk.

At Elspeth Gibson and Chloe, pretty, sheer lace dresses and blouses hinted at lingerie styling, and at Valentino white silk camisoles were teamed with smart trousers.

Hermes experimented with different coloured lace, including maroon and black, layered over dresses to give more of a boudoir appearance.

This trend is not just for the daring, however; it can easily be translated and adapted to suit any style, especially in the summer months. The trick is to be more ‘Trousseau’ than ‘tarty’. Achieve this by teaming feminine, pretty pieces with visible lingerie.

Pull your neckline slightly lower to reveal the lace of your bra, leave an extra button undone on your cardigan to expose your lingerie underneath or team a sheer skirt with nude boy shorts. Ignore the cardinal sin of wearing black lingerie with white clothes - make sure it’s a matching set. Try letting your dress slip seductively off your shoulders, baring delicate bra straps or simply wear a silk camisole as a top. Just don’t try this with a thong, no matter how peachy your bottom is; it’s not a good look.

So expect to see lots of lingerie on show this year. It’s time to indulge yourself.

DARE to bARE

( Dress Vintage with stockings La Perla. All jewellery stylist’s own ) stylist Julia Brenard photographer Charlotte Kibbles make up Jessica Groux stylist’s assistant Charlotte Pearn set designer Helen Kibbles model Reed at M&P models

( Teal sheer camisole and knickers, Holly B )

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( Dusky pink and black lace camisole and knickers, Secret Drawer )

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“The last thing I remember is sitting in the back of a taxi,” says Kelly, 26.

“The next day the taxi driver showed up with a huge bunch of red roses”

LookinG 22 segue

for the lost

G

Sarah Mellis reports on the devastating effects of alcohol-induced blackouts.

At least one in five adults claim to have lost hours of their life. Hours they can neither remember nor ever recover, no amount of willing, help or knowledge will reunite them.

This time is lost in the duration of a blackout - a chemically-induced period of amnesia that can last for seconds, minutes, hours, even days. Brought on by alcohol, blackouts have long been associated with alcoholics, until recently, when new research conducted

by Aaron White, Ph.D., assistant research professor of psychiatry at Duke University, showed that blackouts can affect first time drinkers and normal healthy drinkers as well as alcoholics. “This new study shows that the common assumption that blackouts only happen to alcoholics is wrong,” says White. A blackout is not the same as passing out (a loss of consciousness often caused by excessive drinking or drug use).

Worryingly, a blackout does not inhibit the movement of the individual during his/her daily activities. Anything from driving a car, vandalizing property or even unprotected sexual intercourse might have occurred.

This is what makes a blackout so dangerous.

“The last thing I remember is sitting in the back of a taxi,” explains Kelly, 26, to www. alcoholblackout.com, recalling a night when she experienced a blackout. “The next day the taxi driver showed up with a huge bunch of red roses. He told me I had climbed in the front seat, kissed him and written my phone number in lipstick all over his face, windows and seats. He was in love with me. He was over 50 and someone I would never be attracted to. I sat down and cried. I was so afraid.”

Kelly’s reaction is perhaps typical of 50 percent of people who experience blackouts. Many people find blackouts very disturbing and seek treatment. Others are unconcerned by them, and may remember feeling good, but be unable to remember what they did. This is called euphoric recall. The latter is often a denial technique, and psychologist William Corbin explains why this could lead to more serious problems. “Blackouts should be given more weight as an early warning sign of future alcohol problems. It could identify people at risk.”

Alcohol is one of the UK’s most popular drugs. It is readily available and has become a part

of everyday life. Yet problems related to it are on the increase. One adult in 13 is dependent on alcohol, and 33,000 people die each year due to alcohol-related incidents or associated health problems according to UK government statistics. Donal F Sweeney M.D. and author of ‘The Alcohol Blackout’ explains the power alcohol has. “If a person is going to have that first drink, he/she must understand that alcohol is one hydrogen shy of being the drug ether. Yes, dimethyl ether, the anesthetic that made modern surgery possible. Blackouts are unpredictable. People can drink heavily become quite drunk and pass out, yet not blackout. At other times, they lose their memory after only a couple of drinks.”

There is no universal pattern with blackouts, or their causes, although associations have been made with fatigue, binge drinking, lack of food, and extended drinking over long periods of time.

Individuals can operate for several days whilst having a blackout with sessions lasting until your body has metabolised the alcohol, which usually takes a few hours. And a lot can happen in a few hours. Paul Cox is currently serving a 50 year prison sentence, following a night of heavy drinking. Paul, 21, drove away from a bar, lost control and hit a railing. The collision triggered his blackout and the next day he awoke naked in his bed with no recollection of the night before. Later that afternoon, he heard news of a couple being stabbed to death in the house in which he had grown up in as a child. He started to have dreams about being in the house standing over a faceless couple. Four years later, he was arrested and charged with their murder.

Although he could not remember doing it, he became convinced that he had, and the jury eventually gave him manslaughter. Dr Sweeney feels the sentence was too harsh. “Perhaps Cox did murder those two people.

I don’t know. But the police and prosecutors need to realize that without memory formation a person is incapable of intent.”

Blackouts can have devastating results and even destroy lives. There’s no feeling that can rival regret or fear, and fear of the unknown frightens most of us. Alcohol has the ability to block the formation of new memories in the brain therefore no matter how hard a person tries, they may never be able to remember what happened during lost hours. If you can’t remember something how can you rectify it? Which begs the question, what will you get up to next time you have a drink?

Ever stumbled home covered in your own vomit?

Recommended reading on alcohol blackouts...

‘Smashed: Growing Up A Drunk Girl’ by Koren Zailckas tells the real story of the author, who at fourteen tasted her first drop of alcohol. Brought up in a middle class, stable home, she had loving parents and was a generally normal girl, yet she thought nothing of regularly drinking herself into a state of amnesia. It took a number of terrifying incidents - from stumbling home alone covered in vomit to waking up naked in bed unsure of whether she had lost her virginity - before Koren could finally say to herself enough was enough and seek help for her problem. ‘Smashed’ is the all-toorecognisable story of a young woman coming of age within a society that finds it easier to turn a blind eye to binge-drinking than address the problem head on.

‘The Alcohol Blackout: Walking, talking, unconscious and lethal’ by Donal F.Sweeney cites the latest studies of the brain and memory, providing the most up to date information on causes and preventions of blackouts, how to recognize them, how to deal with them, and the impact they can have. It is an ideal read for someone experiencing blackouts themselves or for anyone trying to understand someone else that does.

houRs

Illustrations: Francine Catley

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“Phoebe Philo produced her own version of ‘prairie prim’ with ‘60s-inspired kaftans and Biba style dresses floating down the runway”

Embrace the lace

Kimberley Thrower explores this season’s passion for white lace and not-so-cheap frills.

In the spring / summer 06 collections, one trend stood out the most: lace. Over two decades on from Madonna’s ‘Lucky Star’ period in the early ‘80s, designers at Chanel and Michael Kors proudly sent lace-laden models swaying down the catwalks of Paris and New York. Gone were the bolero-cropped cardigans of last spring/summer and in were long, laced layers.

Chanel’s ‘60s inspired white dress with lace and crochet bell sleeves was a must-have. Michael Kors, meanwhile, opted to clothe his models in a more feminine way: floor length, white lace shirtdresses, complete with tan belts and matching shoes, perfect for day and evening.

Indeed the shirtdress was a running theme throughout the shows, even Paul Smith got in on the act unveiling his own interpretation - a long-sleeved polyester number, with lace embroidery, teamed with striped white and blue shorts.

Proenza Schouler, on the other hand, created a beautiful, strapless evening gown in ivory white.

The ruffled, knee-length creation, trimmed with satin, showed off the model’s svelte figure, the perfect outfit for any red carpet event.

Phoebe Philo brought out her own version of ‘prairie prim’ at Paris Fashion Week. Her collection

was a mixture of flattering chiffon and white lace, with ‘60s inspired long, loose kaftans and Biba style dresses floating down the runway.

Ghost wowed at London Fashion Week incorporating pieces of white linen and lace. Most appealing was a totally see-through slip dress and a light cotton, embroidered short-sleeved dress, with a double layered skirt; ideal for a long summer evening.

With model Lily Cole headlining his show, Julien McDonald decided to opt for colour throughout his collection, producing several perfect summer day pieces. He added a white jewel-encrusted, crochet bikini and matching thigh-length jacket for poolside glamour, and a white, slinky dress carefully woven with silk and lace detailing; reminiscent of ‘60s hip shoppers strutting down the King’s Road.

Artistic Director of Emilio Pucci, Matthew Williamson sent strong, bold creations down the runway cashing in on what Pucci is famous for. Amongst his array of swirls and bright patterns, however, simple, white slash neck dresses teamed with cotton and lace overcoats were standout numbers.

With so many lace styles to choose from, just be careful you don’t end up with a doily rather than a Dolce look.

segue 27

Gemma Ward uncovers the hidden horrors underneath the beauty industry’s glamorous reputation. Warning: this isn’t pretty…

Behind its superficial veneer of glamour, glitz and gloss, the world of beauty is harbouring a disturbing secret. A secret, underground trade in profitable body parts is presently in operation, harvested by criminals for use as ingredients in various skincare products and hair salon treatments.

Natural bodily extractions such as hair, skin and cell tissue are being exploited for beauty treatments, expertly contrived to keep the appearance of age at bay. Yet many of the female consumers paying for the products and treatments in question are naively unaware of the origins of their key ingredients.

Immaculately groomed, Joanne is a 45-yearold PR consultant who has always longed for a beautiful head of hair. Magazines, celebrities and advertising have introduced her to the marvels of extensions, and now she has decided to take the plunge and transform her lank locks into something more extravagant.

“I’ve always wanted long, big hair,” she says.

“These days extensions can be used to create a variety of effects. You can have volume added, length or colour – you don’t have to go for the ultra long and fake Jordan look. They can make you look so much younger. I earn a hefty enough salary – why shouldn’t I indulge myself if it makes me happy?”

In Russia, however, young girls are escaping starvation by selling their hair to wig and extension manufacturers. The meagre sum they earn each time will only be enough to feed them for a few days at most. Many have traded their coveted tresses to make some essential funds fast and the majority are reduced to inconsolable sobs as inches of their precious hair is hacked off, traded in for a nominal fee. Often this is as little as a £1. In the UK, however, it can raise over £2,000, sold to women like Joanne. Women who are unaware that they’re creating a demand for such merciless actions.

Perhaps even more disturbing is the recent revelation that, in some countries, hair is being plundered from corpses. Rumours are circulating among hair industry insiders that this is occurring inside UK funeral homes too, creating a clandestine black market trade in hair.

“I can tell by the texture of the hair when I rub it between my fingers whether the person was

26 segue

alive when it was cut,” claims hair factory owner, Ludmilla Vovchok, in a recent interview with the Daily Mail. “I reject dead people’s hair - I don’t want a corpse’s hair in my factory. It makes me shiver. But not everyone is so experienced and sensitive as I am. If you deal with other sellers, you could well be buying the hair from women who died in car accidents or hospitals.”

Thus companies are emerging who profess to offer only ‘ethical’ human hair extensions. Many have emerged due to a backlash in the extensions market as a result of the recent consumer obligation for fair trade.

International extensions brand Great Lengths, claims that its 100% human hair is ethical. The company sources its hair from Hindu temples across India with the justification that women offer this hair as a gift to the Gods on their wedding day. However, the reality of this claim has become muddied, and there are conflicting opinions on its ethical justification.

“Hindu women don’t cut their hair on their wedding day as it is considered inauspicious,” says Ramesh Kallidai, an expert rom the British Hindu Forum. “However some women do cut their hair at pilgrimage centres in India such as Tirupati.”

In reality, this so-called ‘Temple hair’ is a byproduct of a religious practice that Hindus have adhered to for generations. They consider their hair to be the most beautiful part of their bodies and grow it in order to have a worthy gift for their Gods when they visit a shrine once or twice in their lifetime. This results in long, unprocessed hair that is perfect for extensions.

The pilgrimage centre in Tirupati is the site of the majority of these hair offerings. This temple is the most prosperous in India due to its lucrative export of human hair, and sells 450 tons annually. It is said to earn between $2 and $4 million each year from the approximate 2500 heads that are shaved there daily, and is also India’s most visited shrine.

It has been argued that in Hindu religion it is forbidden to derive use from any articles offered to an idol. However, the temples protest that the hair is a charitable donation, much like Christians donate money to the church.

“Money earned by the sale of human hair by temples really does pay for schools, hospitals and the like,” Dr. V. Narayana Rao of the University of Wisconsin told the ‘Village Voice’ in New York. “Besides, those who get ‘tonsured’ - as the head shaving ritual is called - do so with joy. Whatever happens to the chopped-off hair is beside the point.”

The debate continues, however. Simon Forbes is credited as the ‘inventor of hair extensions for Caucasians’, although he has always boycotted the idea of using human hair. He invented a special monofibre in 1980 that proved popular with celebrity clients including Boy George, Cher, Diana Ross and Madonna.

“I am completely against human hair extensions,” says Forbes. “I personally cannot understand why anyone would want to wear someone else’s hair on their head. If the people donating the hair were being paid a fair sum then I wouldn’t be against it, but I believe this is not happening and for that reason it is utterly vile and wrong.”

Today his monofibre hair is endorsed by the likes of Kate Moss, Gwyneth Paltrow and Christina Aguilera. Nevertheless, many still aren’t convinced of its suitability. “If I’m going to have hair extensions, then I want the best,” Joanne

Photography: Donna Trope

Savage beauty

segue 29

“Investigations across the United States have revealed a gruesome market in body parts, made possible by a motley collection of grim reapers”

These processes might make women beautiful; but consider the real costs of such beauty.

28 segue

announces. “I wouldn’t even consider synthetic hair – it’s far too cheap and tacky.”

Many consumers such as Joanne have embraced the notion that natural hair has a superior quality. However, Forbes strongly maintains that monofibre is a much better choice for extensions.

“Everyone leapt on the obvious solution of using real human hair, but it’s double the price, lasts half the time, and cannot be styled as easily. When I invented extensions I never meant for human hair to be used.

That was never the point.”

With the current surge in cosmetic surgery, it’s evidently becoming acceptable to spend ever-larger sums of money on personal aesthetics. Individuals are continually searching for new ways to improve their appearances and the beauty industry is developing products to meet these demands. Bupa estimates that Britons undergo 75,000 cosmetic surgical procedures annually, in addition to a further 50,000 non-surgical procedures such as collagen and Botox.

The latest development in anti-ageing treatments has shocked beauty industry insiders, however. It’s called ‘Foetal Stem Cell Therapy’ but it’s doubtful that these will be the latest buzzwords on any magazine’s beauty pages.

Foetal Stem Cell Therapy is a course of injected treatments compiled from the cells of aborted foetuses. The extracted cells are taken from the umbilical cord and placenta because of their alleged ability to promote regeneration and repair of the skin.

According to the surgeons that offer it, the treatment also comes with the added side effects of improved health and vitality. Stem Cell Therapy was originally developed to fight Parkinson’s disease and Alzheimer’s, and is currently being tested for this purpose worldwide.

Wealthy western women are visiting clinics in Moscow in droves to undergo this treatment. The surgeons performing the processes are so confident of its effectiveness that they claim to have the power to ‘make time stand still.’

But it’s the method in which the cells are collected, and Russia’s high abortion rate of 2 to every child born in the UK, that are the truly disturbing facts.

Unsurprisingly, there is evidence that many vulnerable women are being lured by money to wait until they are five months pregnant, when the placenta is in its most nutrient prime. Labour is then induced and the dead foetus is cast aside so scientists can extract from its bountiful placenta and umbilical cord.

In Europe this practice is highly illegal and medical theory is yet to confirm whether injecting stem cells can reduce the appearance of wrinkles anyway.

However, Russian surgeons are still providing the treatment and right now there is no legislation in place to stop them.

The horror story doesn’t stop there, however.

Reports from America that skin and body parts are being plundered from the dead for beauty treatments have also emerged, spreading horror across the US population.

“Investigations across the United States have revealed a gruesome market in body parts made possible by a motley collection of grim reapers, who secretly and illegally and with dubious consent harvest the skin of those in funeral homes, burial sites and morgues,” commented Arthur Caplan, director of the Center for Bioethics at the University of Pennsylvania.

The Guardian also recently published a report that caused controversy in the industry. The newspaper revealed that collagen extracted from executed Chinese prisoners is being used for anti-ageing treatments in the UK, provoking the Department of Health to subsequently commissioned an investigation into the safety of such procedures. It has since emerged that there may be a risk of the spread of diseases such as hepatitis and CJD through collagen treatments.

Another controversial development in the skincare market is the use of TNT; an ingredient becoming well known in the beauty industry for its amazing anti-ageing benefits. However, it’s also becoming notorious for being enriched with cells from the foreskin of a circumcised baby. Celebrities and the wealthy have been slathering on expensive creams containing the ingredient in desperate attempts to emulate youth. But many remain unaware of the derivation of its most active property. This cream is not as horrifying as other treatments perhaps; the cells were in fact derived from one foreskin, and cloned within a laboratory.

There are, of course, more ethical alternatives available that provide anti-ageing benefits without the need of any third parties.

A groundbreaking treatment available on Harley Street uses the patient’s own cells, reducing the need for external elements. As we get older the rate our cells multiply diminishes, resulting in limited skin elasticity. This treatment extracts the cells and then multiplies them artificially in a laboratory. The increased cells are then injected back into the skin to plump out fine lines and wrinkles.

Ethics and the beauty industry have always made unlikely bedfellows, of course. But it seems increasingly difficult to focus on ethical concerns when thousands of pounds are commonly being spent in the name of pure vanity.

The revelation of these potentially-horrific realities forces Joanne to reconsider her quest for long, voluminous hair. “I suppose I just put the thought of where the hair was coming from to the back of mind,” she says. “I never even considered that it could be from dead people or children. It’s made me feel sick and I’m definitely thinking about alternative measures.”

The black market trade of body parts has become a highly profitable business. More so than ever, people seem willing to disregard the dignity of fellow humans simply to knock a few years off the body clock.

And whilst this demand exists, there will be the qualified surgeons willing to cater to it. My mother always told me beauty equals pain. But she never mentioned that my own vanity could hurt others in the process.

segue 31

Photography: Donna Trope

Primemark

Julia Brenard investigates why budget retailer Primark is the most desirable fashion label around today.

The Primark phenomenon has made a big mark on the fashion industry. Due to this cheap fashion haven, bargain hunting is no longer a dirty phrase.

Primark has created a new movement in fashion, a movement that has gripped the whole industry. Now a new season’s wardrobe no longer requires bankruptcy.

Why spend thousands of pounds when you can pick up something at a fraction of the price?

Admittedly, the quality is not as good, but we’re not suggesting you buy a suit, we’re talking quick fix, oneseason trend pieces. Who didn’t own a gypsy skirt from Primark last summer? You can bet those who bought designer versions (or pieces from a more expensive high street store) are kicking themselves with hindsight, as the gypsy skirt is now a fashion sin. Be warned and take note for the future.

It’s embarrassing to be caught in a designer item that could be from Primark, you just look like a mug. Now fashionistas are flaunting their Primark buys, with a ‘see-how-good-I-look-and–it-only-cost-£4’ smile.

Primark owns 126 shops in the UK and Ireland with the aim of offering high fashion basics at value for money prices. Their slogan is ‘Look Good, Pay Less’. Arthur Ryan, Primark’s Chairman and Managing Director, was recently named ‘Most Influential Person in High Street Fashion’ by Drapers. He deserves the title. Primark has become a national obsession; savvy

30 segue

shoppers even know what time to arrive to get the best bargains. Katie, a fashion student from Surrey states (rather seriously), “You have to get there at nine to get the good stuff, before all the regular sizes have been taken. There is just no point in going later.”

The movement has been building up for years; the fashion for cheap chic started when the vintage trend saw fashionable shoppers rummaging through charity shops. Consumers no longer want to spend a fortune on clothes, they try to get everything as cheaply as possible - call it reverse consumer snobbery.

Bargain-hunters have built up Primark’s reputation. The fashionista’s clamour for budget fashion has made the general consumer sit up and take notice.

After all, people in the fashion industry are expected to look fabulous, but earn low wages – which is why they love Primark.

It’s not just struggling students and low wage earners who shop there; Primark has gained cult appeal amongst affluent segments of society. Women who could easily afford top designer prices are happy rooting for cheap fashion statements. Grazia magazine’s Paula Reed told BBC News recently, “I find fashion editors in Milan talking about, ‘oh did you see what Primark had in Hammersmith last week,’ which is kind of extraordinary.”

And Primark really does compete with high fashion; designs are influenced by the catwalk, and go from the concept stage to the shops in an average time of six weeks.

Primark is an addiction. Emma Hearne, a

Illustrations: Francine Catley

fashion student from London says, “It doesn’t matter if you don’t wear it more than once. It’s so cheap that it doesn’t seem like a waste.” This is throwaway fashion, necessary in an industry where trends come and go as often as fad diets. If you’ve been to one of the stores (and if you haven’t, more fool you) then you’ll know the rush you feel as you enter this fluorescent, bustling mecca. It hits you like adrenaline. Primark is messy and piled high with clothes. Consumers grab everything in sight, even if they don’t really like it. Quick thinking creates panic buying, perfect for profits.

This success story is not such good news for the rest of the high street, however. Primark’s increase in profits sees the loss of sales in other mid-market stores. This is no coincidence.

The downside to shopping there is Primark Overload. When you look down and see that your entire outfit is from Primark, you’ve gone too far. Try to go once a month - anymore than that and it just gets silly. Then there’s the problem of getting used to such low prices. Once you’ve dabbled, it’s hard to go back.

Venturing elsewhere can be disastrous, you spot a top you love, then check the price tag, “What, £12, I’m not paying that!”

But any cons are far outweighed by the pros. Geoff Lancaster, Primark’s Spokesperson, said it all when he told The Telegraph, “Nobody, and I mean nobody, is cheaper than Primark.” So there you have it, Primark means guilt-free shopping. Flaunt your bargains with bags of pride.

“Primark has gained cult appeal among affluent segments of society.

Women who could easily afford top designer prices are happy rooting for cheaper fashion statements” segue 31

7 Deadly sins

Wrath

Greed

Vanity

Gluttony

Lust

Envy

Sloth

Fashion Co-ordinator Julia Brenard Photographer Eddie Bovington Make-Up Jessica Groux Photographer’s Assistant Mariana Velloso

32 segue

WRATH stylist Callie Adams stylist’s assistant Rachel Crossan segue 35 model Charleen Parkes

GREED stylist Denise Morgan stylist’s assistant Rachel Palmer model Dominique at Cape Models

VANITY stylist Ruth Curran model Charleen Parkes

38 segue

GLUTTONY stylist Ruth Curran model Sennait Adhanom at MOT

LUST stylist Julia Brenard model Sennait Adhanom at MOT

segue 39

ENVY stylist Kimberly Thrower

40 segue

models Stephanie Finch and Dominique at Cape Models

SLOTH stylists Charlotte Pearn and Cassie Fitzpatrick models Sennait Adhanom at MOT and Pip Steaken

segue 39

N “In celebrity land, the c-word is renowned for its scandal and wow factor”

Why have we become a nation in which certain swear words are now socially acceptable, yet the c-word is still considered taboo? Rachel Crossan investigates.

Last week in my local bar, a group of arrogant, Jack-the-lads were engaging in a spot of general pisstaking banter when the conversation started to heat up and one soon growled, ‘Shut up, you daft cunt!’ I soon became the centre of a heated rift on proper social etiquette, when one snarled back at his friend, ‘Jimmy!

The lady!’ It wasn’t Jimmy who had offended me with his quirky tongue-in-cheek opinion, but more so his friend defending my ears against such a beautiful word.

The c-word has been around for centuries, appearing in Chaucer’s Canterbury’s tales, and more recently in DH Lawrence’s 1928 novel Lady Chatterly’s Lover, where it appears in the text many times – never as a swearword, but instead as an erotic idiom, used to egg on the kind of raunchy but reverent sex that Lawrence considered people should be experiencing. “‘What is a cunt?’ she asked. ‘An’ doesn’t ter know?

Cunt! It’s thee down theer; an’ what I get when I’, I’side tgee, and what that gets when I’m inside thee.’ ”

Regularly I think what makes a cunt any different to a dick or prick? In context all three words refer to the selected gender’s genitalia. More often than not, the offence comes down to the situation we use the word in, rather than the word itself. A man would by no means protest to your referring to his ‘dick’ during sexual activity – however, he will react irately if you call him one in the street. Context is everything – simply describe a penis as a dick and it’s a statement of fact; to describe a person being a dick is offensive. Why can’t this same analysis apply to cunt?

The difference also lies in which gender uses the word. Rarely will you hear a woman refer to another as a dick; men however, find great pride in calling one another cunt - purely because it is the greatest threat

40 segue

imaginable. Evidently, men are afraid of cunts and they menace each other with the danger of being compared to one. Is this not evidence of misogyny? Germaine Greer, renowned feminist and author of The Female Eunuch even wrote, ‘…the worst name anyone can be called is a cunt. The best thing a cunt could be is small and unobtrusive.’

I have to say that my ‘cunt’ is special to me. Special, because virtually no other word in the English language packs as much punch in one syllable.

It is a descriptive word that contains a whole history of misogyny and shock factor, and for that, I love it.

However, my friends have mixed feelings about using the word. One takes great pride in shouting the word in public, in front of men especially because she knows they hate it. Another thinks it’s the most vile and filthy word there is and she would only ever use it in extreme circumstances. Both agree that they can’t stand the opposite sex using the word.

In celebrity land, the c-word is renowned for its scandal and wow factor. A teenage Alexander McQueen, training at Savile Row back in the early ‘90s allegedly inscribed ‘I am a cunt’ in the lining of a jacket allocated to the Prince of Wales. Shocking some would say. Pure genius I believe. Another fan of the word is Elton John, who refers to his closest pals as ‘diamond cunts’. By using the c-word in the right company it can bring great humour and wickedness.

So what is the big fucking deal? We should stop being so discriminatory and separatist on which sex can use the word. And, the rationale on who is more abusive when saying the c-word should be scrapped.

I think cunt is a lovely word and we’re not using enough of it. Especially the females who think it’s vile and derogatory. Newsflash all my little cuntesses, you all have one and you better get used to it. I’m comfortable with mine and you should be comfortable with yours.

c-chANGE segue 41

siN cItY

Amaya Alvarez explores why a modern-day dystopia is the government’s comic solution to dealing with anti-social behaviour

The opening description of The Old Town in Frank Miller’s 2005 film adaptation of the Sin City comics is a chillingly accurate interpretation of 21st century life. Many aspects of city life as we know it today are stained with crime and disorder. From the spread of violence in France to the recent cases of gun-crime in Bradford, there is no doubt that real life and fictional on-screen violence frequently mirror each other. There is no longer a switch to turn off when the credits role; instead you step onto the street fully aware of the dangers that meet you on every corner. The Old Town in the film ‘Sin City’ stands at the distant, dark edge of Basin City. It is isolated from any concept of law and order. A suburban setting for street gangs, prostitution and violence, it’s a bubbling inferno, breeding anti-social behaviour. The law here stands for nothing. The inhabitants of the city administer their own justice.

Perhaps one of many inner London equivalents to ‘The Old Town’ is the Brunel Estate, set in the heart of London’s Notting Hill. The estate covers an area of half a square mile and has been a breeding ground for young criminals since its erection in 1967.

Built from charcoal brick, this dark fortress stands alongside its sister estate, the Wessex. It is the nucleus to virtually every crime cell in the area and home to nearly all the anti-social behaviour reported. In fact, 48% of all emergency calls made within a six miles radius of the vicinity are directed to the infamous Brunel Estate.

Alex Kershaw has lived on the estate for the full 26 years of his life. Now a youth worker, he has established a youth scheme with the local borough.

Alex organizes team sports and awaydays to occupy the estate kids and keep them away from recreational criminal activity. A self-confessed former drug-dealer and petty criminal, Alex has first-hand experience of the education experience in Brunel.

“This estate is like a hub or a bubble where the council throw together all the dregs of the world. My mum is an alcoholic, my dad disappeared years ago, our neighbours on both sides are addicts,” he explains, “How would you expect me to grow up surrounded by that kind of madness?”

42 segue

Trapped in this concrete cage, there is a suffocating feeling of isolation from the rest of civilized society. The dark tower blocks on the perimeter of the estate cast a dark shadow over everything. There is a depressing mood and, on a particularly cold evening, an icy chill in the air. Looking up at the tower blocks it is astonishing to believe people really live as far up as the twenty-fifth floor. The top floor flats are a million miles away from civilization - how could the screams of residents living that far up be heard from the ground floor if a mugging or worse an incident of rape should happen? Aware of the direction of my gaze, Alex says, “Half the time the lifts don’t even work!”

This is the devil’s playground, the perfect setting for all sorts of crime. As we walk through the cracked glass door of Clifton House, an overpowering and sickening smell leaves a foul taste in my mouth.

It’s a combination of the sickly-sweet chemical scent of crack cocaine and stale urine. The stench has me running for the exit in seconds. I pass the lift shaft on my way out. It’s filled to the brim with rubbish. Needles and used condoms litter the doorways. The prospect of a young child or toddler using these as toys fills me with deep sadness. “See, this is how we live. Out there is how the other half live.” Alex follows me out the door and laughs.

It is no wonder this estate is notorious for its problems with crime. Most of the parents who bring their children up here need as much help as their children. “To be honest, you would have to be pretty desperate to stay here for very long. Lots of families come here and if they have any sense leave as soon as alternative accommodation becomes available.”

“This Estate is Where the council throw together all the drEgs of the world. my mum is an Alcoholic, my dad disappeared years ago and our Neighbours are Addicts...

How can I GRow up suRRounded By such mAdNESs ?”

“This estate is where the council throw together all the dregs of the world.

My mum is an alcoholic, my dad disappeared years ago and our neighbours addicts... How can I grow

Just a stones throw away from Brunel Estate, Ledbury Road is lined with expensive boutiques. This is the fashion capital of west London. The contrast of extreme poverty and incredible wealth is alarming.

Most of the ‘growing up’ happens whilst hanging out with friends in the corridors getting high or “bussing joke!” The sad truth is that these kids are brought up in a dark and depressing world. Those who actually go to school, still have to return to this desperate place at the end of the day.

“If you chat to any of the kids here, they all come from some tragic family circumstance. That’s why unfortunately a lot of them grow up to be bitter and resentful. At the moment this is a very negative place.”

Just a stones throw away from Brunel Estate, Ledbury Road is lined with expensive boutiques. This is the fashion capital of west London. The contrast of extreme poverty and incredible wealth is alarming.

Outside the Walmer Castle pub, men are uniformly dressed in cashmere jumpers, chinos and brogues, clothes usually associated with the King’s Road. The drawn-out nasal tone of their public school accents is immediately identifiable. It’s a stark contrast to the hooded jumpers, low slung jeans and moody, muffled tones which make for the accepted uniform and lingo on the Brunel Estate.

The walls of a prison protect the rest of society from danger. But this estate imprisons innocent people and exposes them to a criminal training camp environment. Young offenders graduate to a life of professional crime.

The alarming truth is that instead of doing everything possible to avoid this type of housing, the Government is proposing that similar estates are created throughout the UK to deal with anti-social behaviour. As part of the drive to restore respect in British society, the Prime Minister’s ‘Respect Tsar’ Louise Casey is proposing that entire families are confined without trial in Colditz-style camps under new draconian laws. The Guardian newspaper revealed that neighbours from hell will be placed in ‘sin bins’ policed by private security guards with powers to detain residents and impose curfews. The Prime Minister is also examining plans to confiscate the homes of parents whose children are accused of persistent antisocial behaviour. The proposals to combat anti-social behaviour will be contained in a Respect Bill.

The idea behind these ‘sin bins’ comes from a scheme which has been running in Dundee for almost a decade. The project in St Mary’s housing estate consists of a tenement of six flats surrounded by high fencing and closed-circuit TV cameras. Much like the totalitarian and tyrannical society of Big Brother in Orwell’s ‘Nineteen Eighty-Four’, the block is a last chance for families accused of persistent yobbish behaviour. Social workers live on-site 24 hours a day and residents are given regular courses in parenting, anger management and cookery.

After initial hostility from locals, the scheme is widely viewed as a success, but there will be a crucial difference between the Dundee project and the planned nationwide network of ‘sin bins’. In Dundee, residents can come and go as they please, and most have already signalled that they want reform. But under legislation being drawn up, problem families may be forced into these boot camps against their will, and the guards known as porters - will be given wider powers to lock up residents, enforce curfews, restrain troublemakers and, in extreme cases, keep mothers and their children apart in separate accommodation.

Ironically, these ‘penal colonies’ have already been in existence within our society for decades and are in fact responsible for contributing to the increase of anti-social behaviour, which has driven the Government to take action.

Just a stones throw away from Brunel Estate, Ledbury Road is lined with expensive boutiques.

This is the fashion capital of west London.

The contrast of extreme poverty and incredible wealth alarming.

44 segue

The system has really let me down. I’ve done everything possible in terms of dealing with the housing people, environmental health and the police and still nothing has been done.

What have my family done to deserve this?

It’s hard not to question whether this is just another attempt to get rid of, rather than tackle, the real issues of anti-social behaviour within British society.

Rather than isolating single mothers and dysfunctional families, integrating them into a society where both they and their children can learn and be led by better example would reduce crime rates.

Admittedly, those on the receiving end of antisocial behaviour would argue that few actions could reestablish their faith in society. One victim of anti-social behaviour, whose identity is hidden for legal reasons, has been living under constant terror for the last three years. The root of the problem lies with a downstairs neighbour, a man who suffers from mental health problems and has been sectioned twice this year, having previously served three years in prison for a violent knife attack on his brother.

“The problem started with noise pollution.

He would sit at home all day and night play banging trance music constantly. I leave for work at half five in the morning. You can’t imagine what it’s been like not having a proper nights sleep for this long.”

The family reported the persistent noise pollution to the environmental health office, which fitted a device in the building to monitor noise levels. As soon as the neighbour found out, he launched a violent attack on their front door.

“I was at home alone with my daughter when we heard a massive thud at the door. He was banging and shouting abuse at us. We were both petrified.”

For fear of repeat attacks, the family try their best to stay out of his way but find contact unavoidable.

“You know, I’ve got two sons who hate what

this man is putting their family through. I am terrified that they will snap and one of them will end up dead.”

This is a tragic yet on-going case. The victim works for the Metropolitan Police and is well-informed about the correct procedures involved in dealing with a situation like this. Despite this, the family is no closer to a solution.

“The system has really let me down. I’ve done everything possible in terms of dealing with the housing people, environmental health and the police and still nothing has been done. What have my family done to deserve this?”

When questioned about the new plans for dealing with anti-social behaviour her response is this: “I would love my problems to disappear, but unless this man is locked up and removed from society, the problem isn’t going to go away. He will just behave the same way in another place.”

As the plans for reform move closer, what evidence is there to suggest that ‘sin bins’ will actually work? Are we heading toward an urban landscape reminiscent of Burgess’ ‘Clockwork Orange’, completely dominated by concrete blocks, a playground for gangs and criminals in which we must wander aimlessly until we notice a sign saying ‘home’.

“What the government really needs to do is to look at the underlying root of this anti-social behaviour; poverty, unemployment, lack of opportunity as well as long running systemic malfunctioning problems within difficult families,” says leading behavioural psychologist Ronnie Tumulty.

If vulnerable people are lumped together in an authoritarian controlled environment, morale and self-esteem fall. People adjust to their circumstances. In a harsh environment, the basic tenets of law and order go out the window and the Darwinian principle of the survival of the fittest takes over.

The system has really let me down.

I’ve done everything possible in terms of dealing with the housing n people, environmental health and fthe police and still nothing has been done.

What have my family done to is deserve this? segue 45

Breast isn’t best “How magical is it to have something gumming away at your nipple until it feels like it is going to fall off?”

46 segue

Louisa Tucker ignites the battle of the boob by investigating the negatives of breast-feeding.

Before I start, let’s get a few things straight: I am fully aware that breast-feeding is fantastic for newborns. I know about the health benefits – better behaviour, strong bones, bigger brain. And I also understand that it is a truly magical time for mother and child - a chance to connect, a time in a mother’s life that is completely and utterly indescribable. I fully buy into all that mush, I do; I love it. However, breast-feeding has some negative health implications too. A recent study conducted by a team from the Medical Research Council featured 331 adults, born between 1969-75. The results showed that those who had been breast-fed up to four months old were in good health. Those who had been breastfed for any longer had developed stiffer arteries, extra breast-feeding causing a rise in cholesterol and blood pressure.

We do not hear about these facts and figures, they are completely ignored. And maybe that’s because it is almost a sin to question breast-feeding. To scorn nature at its most basic offends millions of women.

Mothers who can’t breast-feed are made to feel as if they have let themselves and their baby down, they’re bad mothers. Without breast milk, their bundle of joy is destined not to become a doctor or lawyer, instead fated for a life of brittle bones and ASBOs.

There are a few other things I just don’t understand about this magical time in every mother’s life. How magical is it to have something gumming away at your nipple until it feels like it is going to fall off? The more down-to-earth mothers out there admit that there were times when their babies brought them to tears.

And the pain lasts a good while - truly beautiful, I know.

And what about leaky nipples? What a wonder those suckers – excuse the pun – must be. If mum can bear to pull herself away from her child for an evening of conversation that exceeds baby-changing facilities, nappy rash and colic, huge soggy patches on her Little Black Dress are a reminder that she would rather be elsewhere.

When a breast-feeding woman whips out a boob at the first hint of a whimper, friends who minutes previously had been mid-conversation are forced to divert their eyes. Suddenly, floors, walls, fingernails and even obituaries become fascinating. These breastfeeding women manage to make everyone else around them feel deeply uncomfortable. They even manage to make the kind of man who buys top-shelf magazines turn a deep shade of red and not know where to look.

Now I am not going to categorise all breastfeeding women. I know the majority manage to be discreet and most of the time we are oblivious to the fact that they are feeding. But, as per usual, the minority who leave their boob dangling before junior is even out of his pushchair, ruin it for the majority.

Please don’t get me wrong, I am fully aware just how immature I seem right now. I am almost ashamed to hold this opinion. Maybe I am yet to connect with my maternal instincts but I do believe that while breast-feeding does the world of good for baby’s brain cells, it seems to zap away mummy’s brain cells in less time than it took her to get pregnant. It’s not out of place to see a once-respectable woman who could conduct herself in public, suddenly acting this way.

It is almost as if she has completely forgotten who she was for the past 20 to 30 years. She too probably squirmed at the sight of breast-feeding, and felt deeply embarrassed as her best-friend-turned-mum did it in front of her for the first time.

It seems for this breast-feeding woman, all her thoughts on the subject are flushed out of her mind the second her spawn is born. This new relationship with her boobs stops her from wishing they were bigger or smaller or more pert. They are now an apparatus to serve a purpose and she turns into a breast-waving monster.

segue 45

Illustrations: Francine Catley

You Got me You Got me

BuRNiN’ up BuRNiN’

Feel the heat in ice white and sultry black; mix and match or stay pure in summer’s hottest trend.

48 segue

Photography and Styling Eric Down Model Jay P at Oxygen Models Grooming Bobbie using MAC

White Shirt H&M. Dog tags Topman. Beads Stylist’s own. Wristbands from a selection at H&M

up

Trousers H&M. Jacket Oxfam.

Brooch Rokit. Belt Topman. Vest Stylist’s Own. Sunglasses eBay. Briefs H&M. Cuff H&M. Skull Bracelet: Topman, Dog tags H&M. White Leather Bracelet Topman. Rubber Bracelets Stylist’s Own.

segue 49

Motorhead T-shirt H&M. Briefs H&M. Sunglasses Stylist’s Own. Wristband H&M. Cuff: H&M. Bracelets Stylist’s Own.

Jacket Oxfam. Brooch Rokit.

Belt Topman. Vest Stylist’s Own. Sunglasses eBay. Briefs H&M. Cuff H&M. Skull Bracelet: Topman, Dog tags H&M. White Leather Bracelet Topman.

Rubber Bracelets Stylist’s Own.

Gay for prey

“Many gay men and women feel that homophobic crime is still ‘just something you put up with’”

52 segue

Does the current increase in reported homophobic crime actually reflect a rise in attacks, questions Rachel Dartmouth.

Hate crimes against gay people are on the increase. Meanwhile, police admit that they have no idea how many cases go unreported. Jody Dobrowski was brutally murdered on Clapham Common by two homeless men. He was beaten so badly around his face, neck and top of the torso that his profile was unrecognisable to his next of kin. Now is the time to ask ‘why?’ Was it simply because they didn’t like his sexual orientation?

Closer to home, how safe does the gay community in Guildford feel after this event? How do they feel about their relationship with the Surrey police?

Is there a good support system in place and are they comfortable coming forward and reporting hate crimes?

The stark reality of violence and intimidation facing the gay and lesbian community in Guildford is slowly being revealed, thus forcing the Surrey police to take a stronger stance.

A survey carried out by Surrey police highlights the main issues that must be dealt with.

The results include the worrying facts that two thirds of gay people living in Guildford have been victims of homophobic crime, that both men and women have suffered gay-hate incidents and that a quarter of those polled said they did not believe police could do anything to help. Whilst one in ten kept quiet because of fears their sexuality would be exposed, only half were aware that each police station now had officers specially trained to deal with their complaints.

The Surrey Police are currently working closely with the gay community in Guildford, formulating a committee to deal with all hate crimes, ranging from gay crimes to religious differences. The Hate Crime Committee has grown over the last five years and Surrey police believe that it is this in combination with the better support system, which allows the police to deal confidently with incidents. Sgt. Carol Thomas, the police officer in charge of the new committee says that “with the stronger connections we now have with the gay community, people feel more at ease to come forward and ask for our help”

A survey taken in 2000 revealed that the majority of people felt their treatment by the police was fair to bad. Police chiefs had to make changes to compensate for this appalling review. Surrey police faced calls to expand their team of specialist gay and lesbian liaison officers amid growing fears of hate attacks in Guildford. From the survey it was concluded that countless crimes were going unreported – with 67% of gay crime victims keeping quiet about their ordeals.

In 2000, community group leaders said more liaison officers were needed to give the gay and lesbian

community greater confidence in the police. At the time of the survey, each station had one officer whose specific task was to liaise with gay people. Now five years on, all stations have a small team to deal with gay hate crimes. They are more involved with the gay community and, if needed, specially elected members of the gay community act as middlemen in a violent or verbally abusive situation. In Guildford the elected correspondent is Ian Cole. He is the Health Development Promotion Officer. Working alongside the police, his main aim is to encourage victims to come forward. Mr Cole believes that the Surrey police are a progressive force. He feels the connections and bonds that are being made help the gay community to feel safer in Guildford.

But the police can only do so much to encourage people to report crimes. People who are gay but in a heterosexual relationship may be subjected to homophobic incidents – but because they do not want to be uncovered they will not report the crime. Whilst people continue to conceal their homosexuality, the police service will not be able to tackle the problem of homophobia.

Two managers of gay pubs in Guildford believe that this new relationship with the police gives the gay community a massive support system. They both agreed that there are other reasons why people still don’t report their ordeals. Sometimes the victim is not properly out, for example, and may still be living in a heterosexual relationship. Others feel that it is just something that you have to put up with. It is ‘just part of being gay, lesbian, bisexual’.

It is important to look at the Crime Prosecution Service to see if all these improved measures are having an effect. In the Guildford area between April 2004 and March 2005, the CPS prosecuted fives cases where a homophobic element had been identified. Four resulted in guilty pleas; one was dismissed. “Prosecution of this kind is still rare, but the vast majority are successful,” says a CPS spokesman.

Nigel Cowgil, Chief Crown Prosecutor, says, “I hope victims of homophobic crimes have enough confidence in the criminal justice system to continue to come forward.” Mr Cowgil was keen to state that nationally 25% of homophobic cases are discontinued because the victim refuses to give evidence, retracts the accusation or fails to attend court.

Nationally, the CPS prosecuted 317 cases it identified as having a homophobic element. Of these, 190 resulted in a guilty plea and a further 34 resulted in a conviction after trial. The national conviction rate currently lies at 71 %. Perhaps if these figures were more publicly available, victims would be more likely to report incidents and offenders would be brought to justice.

Illustrations: Francine Catley

Illustrations: Francine Catley

some tABoo with thAt, sir?

From kangaroo testicles to cannibalism, Denise Morgan discusses society’s appetite for forbidden fruit. Forks at the ready…

Last week I was sitting on a train, minding my own business when an overweight businessman decided to sit next to me. This wouldn’t have been a problem, but his cheese, cranberry, bacon and spinach baguette promptly fell into my lap.

Still reeling from the encounter, I find myself intrigued by my response – why was I so annoyed?

Was it simply because I got covered in food? Or was it that my space had been invaded? Truth be told, I was annoyed that someone else’s manners did not match my own. Every day we are faced with certain expectations; we are taught what society does and doesn’t demand of us. If we do experience bad manners or poor standards, we immediately question the subject’s upbringing and,in some cases, even lodge a complaint.

Strangely enough, there are countless taboos surrounding food and its origins. The term ‘taboo’ encompasses multiple meanings: an illegal act, a social prohibition, even the taking of a ‘forbidden fruit’. For centuries taboos have oscillated in and out of fashion, but whether they scintillate or sicken us,we cannot resist the desire to probe them further. I find myself wondering, what place does taboo have in today’s society?

For centuries the ‘burp’ has been seen as a cardinal sin, but it is also just the by-product of a satisfying meal. As the online resource, Wikepedia so rightly asserts, “Burping is typically caused by eating or drinking too fast, and thereby swallowing, and subsequently expelling air.” If this is the case, then surely it should be embraced as a compliment, as it is in some Eastern cultures? Burping is only the beginning.

We all dislike one food or another – my particular aversion is the onion - but occasionally dislike elapses into revulsion. Take the Cambodian predilection for pig’s testicles. It is neither illegal, nor strictly immoral, but the mere thought of devouring this part of the porcine anatomy turns the western world sour. Stephen Pinker wrote in his book, The Blank State that, “People have gut feelings that give them emphatic moral convictions, and they struggle to rationalize them after the fact.”

During the most recent series of I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here, we saw Carol Thatcher being forced to devour a kangaroo’s testicle.

Undoubtedly most viewers were squirming at the sight of it. But why are we so repulsed by the thought of eating one animal more than another? It is a popular ‘fact’ that the average human consumes eight spiders every year (albeit in their sleep), and that the typical supermarket sausage contains parts of a pig that we’d rather not think about. So why complain at the sight of a bug? Indeed if you were hungry enough, I’m sure you wouldn’t say no.

It all boils down to social conditioning. More than 1,400 species of insects, packed with protein, make it into the African, Asian and Australian cuisines. In Japan, some regions enjoy grasshoppers and bee larvae as a delicacy, and in Vietnam and Korea, Silkworm larvae. The people of Iceland celebrate the Viking tradition of Thorrablot with a feast of sheep’s heads, rotting shark and rams’ testicles. But would you find these dishes on the plates of British families? I think not. “Food is often the subject of taboo or disgust because it is internalised,” says Carole Counihan in her book, Around the Tuscan Table: Food, Family, and Gender in Twentieth Century Florence. “Any revulsion we have for the food is magnified by the thought that it will become part of us.”

In the case of Muslims and Jews this takes on added religious resonance.

Both religions place strong restrictions on certain foods that might otherwise be considered a staple – pork is one such example. It is thought that pigs are unclean, not to mention the fact that they devour meat themselves. (They may not traditionally be classed as carnivores, but mix meat in along with their normal food, and pigs will gobble it down). If we are to believe the plot of ‘Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels’, it might also be that pigs have a penchant for human flesh.

If pigs will eat humans, and humans will eat pigs, how far away is the idea of humans eating humans? Cannibalism is the ultimate forbidden fruit, the untouchable taboo that goes against human nature and law – or so you would have thought. On the contrary, cannibalism is not legislated against in either the UK or America. It is only punishable by association – murder or grave robbing per se.

Historically, human flesh has been consumed as a matter of ritual, sacrifice, insanity or just pure hatred. Publicised examples include the infamous case of Albert Fish and Andrei Chikatilo, but the most recent is that of Armin Meiwes. In 2002 Meiwes used the Internet to acquire a willing victim to be slaughtered and eaten – chillingly enough an applicant stepped up. What this case represents is a disturbing shift in the ways that people view cannibalism. The Korowai tribe of Papua readily devour their fellow tribesmen, but that said, they are one of the last surviving tribes to do so.

Why such divergent views on the same subject? The fact is that what we don’t know, we call barbaric. To consume one’s own flesh – say biting your nails or licking a wound – is fine, but consuming the flesh of others is taboo. I am not trying to advocate cannibalism – far from it – but it does seem that we are too quick to buckle under the pressure of taboos. Should we not be more experimental and extend our limited palates? After all, there’s only so many different ways you can cook ‘Duck à L’Orange’, and it could become tiresome eating chicken every night of the week. Cannibalism may not be on the menu, and rightly so, but if we wish to burp at the table and eat fish eyes, we should be free to do so - just watch out for sweaty businessmen with cheese, cranberry, bacon and spinach baguettes!

“The people of Iceland celebrate the Viking tradition of Thorrablot with a feast of sheep’s heads, rotting shark and rams’ testicles” segue 55

“Kate will be more successful than ever.

She was born to survive”

Last year’s shock cocaine scandal looked set to transform Kate Moss into a has-been. Instead, she has come out resembling Astrea, the Greek goddess of truth, justice and innocence. Callie Adams looks at the enduring appeal of the UK’s model icon.

In September 2005, the future looked bleak for supermodel and face-of-thenoughties, Kate Moss. The image of her snorting cocaine was splashed across every British tabloid, sparking a drug-fuelled moral panic in the fashion world. Her contracts were axed by fashion giants Chanel, Burberry and H&M and a lucrative deal at Rimmel London was in jeopardy.

Fashion houses made an example of Cocaine Kate’s unwholesome behaviour and so did the Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police, Sir Ian Blair, who ordered a police investigation into her cocaine use. His reasoning for pursuing the user rather than the dealer was that by being in the public eye, Moss must act as some sort of role model. Funny, for a woman renowned for her hard-partying lifestyle, this concern has not been voiced before.

But even so, the witch-hunt for Moss continued with the newspapers speculating on her ability as a mother to two-year old daughter, Lila Grace – whose father is Dazed and Confused publisher, Jefferson Hack. Fair enough, the drugs use could have made fans with brains the size of peas go out and buy a gram of coke but there was no evidence to say that the supermodel was a bad mother. This could have sent her over the edge.

The Daily Mirror had it in for Moss and it was only a matter of time before they plotted her downfall. Kate successfully sued the newspaper in January 2005, for making defamatory allegations that she collapsed into a cocaine-induced coma at a fashion show in 2001. It is evident that the Mirror Newspaper Group, whose solicitor acknowledged that the allegations were wrong at the time, could not rest until they taught Moss a lesson.

When the scandal came to a head, Moss fled to L.A, Paris and Richard Branson’s Necker Island. She eventually issued a personal statement at the end of September. “I take full responsibility for my actions. I want to apologise to all the people I have let down because of my behaviour which has reflected badly on my family, friends, co-workers, business associates and others.” Although publicly apologetic, her travel itinary seemed to show her running away from the consequences of her actions. PR Guru Max Clifford claimed that leading fashion houses would think twice before employing the supermodel again, believing Moss’ career was coming to an end. How wrong he was. Kate Moss can do no wrong.

Since the dust has settled, Moss’ career has gone from strength to strength.

Rimmel London, who were said to be deeply concerned about the example the model was setting and reviewing her contract, have done a complete 360° turn. Cashing in on the model’s demons, the cosmetics giant has conveniently launched Recover Anti-Fatigue Foundation with an advert that shows Moss transforming from nightclub excess to dewy-skinned freshness by applying the foundation - looking fabulous, even though she has clearly had no sleep. This is so close to the star’s perceived lifestyle, showing all is forgiven and perhaps accepted.

Chanel and Burberry have also decided that money is better than morals and have reversed their decisions. Burberry have offered Kate £1.5 million for another annual signing whilst Chanel have disregarded their initial need for a “clean cut” image and are expected to reunite with the catwalk queen. The company’s head designer Karl Lagerfeld says, “I think she will be more successful than ever. Chanel will sign her – she is born to survive.”

And it looks like Lagerfeld is right. The scandal has not damaged Kate Moss’ appeal, rather, she has become more iconic and more goddess like. As well as earning multi-million pound deals with other fashion houses including Calvin Klein, Bulgari and

56 segue

Stella McCartney, the world has gone mad for her, all over again. On the March issue of Vogue she adorned its prestigious front cover; the only star alive to have done so for a tenth time - a sign that Moss’ iconic status is almost everlasting.

Controversial artist Marc Quinn, who famously made a cast of his head with his own frozen blood, has immortalised Moss in a series of five bronze sculptures which trace her troubled personal life through a series of contorted poses. “Kate Moss is iconic now because she has come to signify what beauty is in our eyes,” Quinn says, reinforcing the notion that the supermodel is gaining a goddess-like status.

Alexander McQueen showed his support for Moss by wearing a T-shirt bearing the logo, “We Love You, Kate.” The model returned to the catwalk, as a holographic vision at McQueen’s autumn/winter 2006 Paris show. The 3-D image swathed the British beauty in lengths of rippling fabric – a Botticelli painting.

But why has disgrace made the supermodel seem even more graceful? While Moss has always appeared untouchable (maybe even too perfect), now she has flaws like everyone else. She rarely does interviews and so her true personality (or flaws) were unseen by the public, until now. This is supported by the critical texts of theorist Richard Dyer who suggests that “ordinariness is the hallmark of the star”. Dyer also says that scandals “can harm a career or possibly give it a new lease of life.” Scandal has definitely given Kate Moss a boost.

Although, some may think the Croydon-born beauty was running away at first (who wouldn’t try to escape the blood-sucking English tabloids?), she has always been fully responsible for her actions (others would blame their wayward, heroin-addict boyfriends, for instance). Moss did the right thing and turned herself into the police – which must have taken great courage for someone with her high profile. This deserves respect.

Instead of thinking about the small-minded losers who would take cocaine to be as “cool as Kate”; think about the good example the model has set. It is widely known that some impressionable young models in the fashion industry use cocaine to keep their figures slight, and more established models are stuck with a coke habit from entering the fashion industry in their naive youth; therefore, Moss’ ordeal and her determination to become clean could be a ticket to give these girls and women the courage to drop the habit.

As Sixties supermodel Twiggy expressed at London Fashion Week, “There is only one supermodel for me and that’s Kate. I think she is brilliant, the best model. She is the nicest girl… I love her.” And you can’t argue with that.

kate the great segue 57

rule

britannia Photography: Paul Blundell Styling: Charlotte Pearn Hair and Make-up: Jessica Groux Models: Ava and Jonny; both from M&P

Ava wears top by TopShop Unique, bra from Urban Outfitters, hot-pants by Shi Cashmere, tights by Falke and shoes from Office.

Ava wears dress from American Apparel, belt from TopShop, stockings by Falke and shoes by Fly London.

Jonny wears vest by Robert Cary-Williams, jeans by Levi’s Vintage, shoes from Topman and stylist’s own gloves.

Ava wears top from American Apparel, skirt from a selection at Pop Boutique, belt from TopShop and leggings by Falke.

Jonny wears shirt by Margaret Howell, jacket from a selection at Pop Boutique, long johns by Vivienne Westwood and shoes by Converse.

46 segue

Ava wears top from American Apparel, skirt from a selection at Pop Boutique and stylist’s own ballet shoes.

segue 45

cRown

jeWels Women are following men in the recent bid to make their teeth the hottest accessory. Tereska Ebanks investigates whether this dental gold rush really does bring any fortune.

Trying to obtain that flawless smile is just another slice from the perfection pie that media likes to feeds us. However, as we are regularly reassured, the image of perfection is a little different for everyone.

And when it comes to teeth, there is something that will outshine the gleam on any porcelain veneer.

Enter the world of gold caps and grillz, an ostentatious display of wealth that puts the ‘S’ in sparkle. These are an ubiquitous feature of the hip-hop culture, where artists and devotees alike garnish their gnashers to show affluence and loyalty to the game.

Now it seems the odd gold caps on crowns and incisors are no longer enough to sufficiently symbolise the success of some these superstars. As Dirty South rapper Nelly demonstrates in his recent video ‘grillz’, gold is old and gems are in. Diamond encrusted brace-like devices glide onto the teeth and in an instant you are transformed from bland to bling.

Not to be outdone, black women are also practicing a tradition usually reserved for black men.

Cast your mind back to last summer when sassy songstress Kelis caused a spectacle by sporting matching gold caps with hip-hop fiancé Nas. Costing a mere $36,000, the pair turned up for events as the golden couple with the golden smile. After much goading from her mother, Kelis removed hers for the wedding, but Nas was not so easily persuaded.

We might not expect anything different from the quirky singer who in the past has dyed her curly locks a multitude of colours and referred to her charm as ‘milkshake,’ but closer investigation reveals that she is not alone in the desire to decorate your dentals.

Ghetto-fabulous honeys, such as Lil’ Kim and Mary J

62 segue

Blige have been known to visit celebrity grillz specialist, Mr Bling in Atlanta, Georgia to receive their customised grillz or caps. Their influence world-wide has seen more women across American flock to their nearest dealer, hoping a little gold dust will brighten up their look.

But, has this growing sector expanded fast enough to influence the ladies in the UK? Have the likes of Kelis and Missy Elliott softened the masculine and brash edges of dental hardware with style and elegance?

It was time to find to out.

My aim is to spend two nights with a removable gold cap, attending two different events and see whether I remained smiling at the end; observing how people react to me, once they see my little friend and what effect it brings to various outfits.

Friday 31st March - AM

After scouring the net for my local dealer and finding that the stores in the U.S dominated everything, I relied on the word of my cousin and headed down to one near my home. Strangely, I found myself excited and slightly confused, judging by the choices given on the web I had to consider a few things. Open-faced or completely covered? Crown or incisors? Plain or patterned? I knew one thing for sure, I could not afford the grillz. Some reached three figures, suggesting anything less could leave you with a mouth full of discoloured peas instead of diamonds. Gold cap it was.

In that 15-minute walk, my mind conjured up elaborate scenes of pimps in animated discussion while ho’s in six-inch heels teetered around them, but then I remembered I was heading for Brixton Market and such madness was highly unlikely.

After entering two security doors, I ended up in a small shop that does a variety of jewellery and when I asked for a ‘gold tooth please’, the wrinkle of the assistant’s eyebrow told me I got the phrasing all

s

“Have the likes of Kelis and Missy Elliott softened the brash, masculine image of dental hardware?

It was time to find to out...”

wrong. ‘Do you mean gold cap?’ I sheepishly nodded. I was beginning to think this wasn’t the best idea I have had. She promptly handed me a small collection and I decided to choose one for the incisor with little grooves on it. At only £15 I considered it a bargain. The assistant was nice enough, but I couldn’t help feeling as if she was smirking at me as I tried it on - I was reluctant to leave the shop.

I spent the rest of the afternoon in busy Brixton, trying to blend in with the rest, but I felt more like a landmark instead of a shopper. I couldn’t close my mouth properly and I was so conscious of it. I was talking with a lisp. Needless to say, I was dreading going out that night but it had to be done.

Sat 1st April - PM

Dressed up in my boob-tube, tight cropped jeans and sexy heels, I tried to capture a more edgy street style to see if the trend was best accepted within its area of origin. Thankfully, I was right, but on the advice from the assistant, I was to refrain from drinking coke. Ruling out my favourite mixer with spirits, I could not envisage seeing the night through. My mates all thought it was a gag, but interestingly said it suited me and my personality (whatever that means). I took that and the fact that they weren’t steering clear of me as a compliment and by 2am curious looks from men started to turn into conversation. As much as I enjoyed the light banter, the occasional glance at my mouth was grating on my nerves. I started to feel like a giant Quality Street chocolate, with a bit of wrapper still intact. When 4am arrived I was more than happy to tumble into a cab and yank the wretched thing out my mouth. Man-magnet it was not.

Sunday 2nd April - PM

I chose an A-line skirt, a polo jumper and knee-high boots to go with that evening’s decor. Walking into an energetic conversation between an art postgraduate, aspiring fashion designer and a photographer, I thought the deafening silence would fall, putting the spotlight on me. I was nicely surprised to find they paid little attention to my cap and we engaged in easy chatter. Soon I forgot about the tooth, ignored the care advice given by the assistant and got pleasantly tipsy on Malibu and Coke. Let it turn into a shiny, brand new, two pence piece for all I cared.

I was a little puzzled as to why no one had asked me about it. Weren’t they curious why this lovely-looking girl had a bit of corn stuck on her tooth all night? I think the alcohol allowed me to mellow and be less conscious of it, perhaps making it look more natural. Or maybe it gave me a slightly unapproachable edge; anyone who would put a bit of shrapnel in their mouth must have lost the plot. Despite my fears of making a complete fool of myself, without a crowd to disappear into, the evening went quite well.

My final night was to be spent with my other half and he hadn’t seen it yet.

Monday 3rd April - PM

Aye aye, capt’n. That‘s all my boyfriend kept saying as we relaxed at home. I had to take it out to eat which was not sexy - and the constant ribbing had me stuffing it in my back pocket. The golden times were clearly over.

The verdict? I would avoid indulging in this fad and leave it to the big spenders who have the money and the events to make it really take centre stage. In the UK it gets attention but whenever anyone talks to you, a nagging suspicion lingers that you are part of a dare.

Dressed too casually, one can look aggressive and anything else looks just plain silly. During my whole weekend I did not see a single, sane, stylish woman wearing one - which should have been my warning. Now you know, all that glitters is not gold.

segue 63

I sit therefore I am; Charlotte Pearn asks ‘what does your sofa say about you?’

The sofa is the linchpin of modern living; it is the site of quiet unwinding, sophisticated reclining and – should we be so lucky – the odd rambunctious tussle. It is where we sprawl out and consume our lazy post-work suppers; where we seat our guests and sip demurely at aperitifs.

Our sofas have become extensions of our lifestyles, embodying those most treasured moments of blissful repose.

In recent years, sofas have grown in status and refinement, trading their threadbare damasks for more sumptuous swatch-books of thick-pile velvets and luxuriously soft cow-hides. Curling up on the plump cushions of your couch is now a tactile experience – a sensory event, if you will. And so it should be. As that most languid of species, we spend hours draped over our furnishings, burrowing into their inviting crevices and impressing our silhouettes upon their supple forms.

The desirable upshot is that people are investing more time, money and ardour into selecting their sofa. A twenty-minute sprint through the Ikea market hall has been displaced by leisurely strolls through specialist showrooms and meticulous inspection of colour palettes, foam samples and stylistic options. After all, your suite makes a powerful statement about who you are and how you choose to surround yourself.

It is no surprise then that furniture designers have gained in kudos, exploiting the budding niche for expertly made and handcrafted pieces. Just like a couture gown, your sofa can now be styled to suit your own individual needs and sized for the perfect fit. Bespoke services have revolutionised the way that we consider interior design; they offer the opportunity to customise your selections with personally chosen fabrics, colours and fillings.

64 segue

One particular brand to have relaxed into the fashionable mould is the nationally renowned Sofa Workshop. With a dedicated design team to their credit, they have established a unique approach that combines classic design with contemporary twists. “We are strongly aware of future trends; we rely on an expert team of upholsterers to turn fashion into liveable designs,” explains Head of Design and Product, Rachel Hulbert.

As such, their new range explores the key seasonal trends that have spilled off of the catwalks and into our domestic spaces.

Following on the lead of Alexander McQueen’s elegantly tailored Spring/summer collection, their sofas combine the simplicity of minimalist design with the indulgence and comfort of rich surface qualities. Hulbert points to their best-selling Mr Bourbon as a model of this summer’s piquant elegance – it features smooth and simple lines offset with an extravagant velvet nap. “We created Mr Bourbon to offer minimalist style, with added comfort,” she says. “It is vital that it is chic, but easy to live with.”

At the more traditional end of the tasteful spectrum, their archetypal Grand Old Gent plays to the notion that leather remains a symbol of perennial interior trends.

Finished with a time-perfected antiquing treatment, which imbues the leather with a soft and supple quality, it highlights the attention to detail that has changed the face of the entire industry. These small touches epitomise the new approach to furniture design; as the renowned creator of the modernist Barcelona chair, Mies van der Rohe, once stated, “God is in the details”.

Wherever you choose to sit, the crucial factors are comfort and style – both have the potency to enhance our leisure time and evoke feelings of deep-seated, emotional security. A sofa has to reflect your inner needs and accommodate your outer desires. Perhaps it is time to ask that most resonant of questions: are you sitting comfortably?

s G

sofA so GooD

“We are strongly aware of future trends; we rely on an expert team of upholsterers to turn fashion into liveable designs,�

Rachel Hulbert, Sofa Workshop

LADY ANd the tRAmps

Cassie Fitzpatrick travelled the length and breadth of south Wales (which didn’t take long) to chat to the most captivating and contented ‘Gentleman Of The Road’ - tramps, in other words.

When I was younger, I was asked by my primary school teacher Mrs Cunnick, what I wanted to be when I grew up. I answered ‘stripper’ and the class laughed. There were quite a few shock revelations on that wet, Wednesday playtime. Lee wanted to be an air pilot, Kimberley wanted to work behind the counter in our local Happy Shopper but, most surprisingly, Rowena announced she wanted to be a tramp. Mrs Cunnick looked both shocked and disappointed, and told Rowena that perhaps she should be more ambitious. Being a tramp is not something you choose to do.

Mrs Cunnick was wrong. She was wrong about quite a few things. If you pick your nose too much your brains won’t fall out, if you eat sandwich crusts your hair won’t go curly and if you eat apple pips a tree won’t grow inside your belly and sprout branches through your ears. Her comments about tramps were also wrong because, as it turns out - strange as it may seem to Mrs Cunnick - some people do actually choose to be tramps. And as a lifestyle, it can, in fact, be a very pleasurable experience.

Alan Walmsley

Walmsley, 57, is a veteran on the Welsh tramp circuit. He is the male equivalent of Catherine Zeta-Jones, only less glossy and in need of a good brillo pad scrub, but nevertheless just as popular. Coincidentally, Alan claims to have given ZetaJones her first big break. He recalls, “Up the Miner’s (pub), there’s a karaoke night, I was next up to sing ‘Living Doll’ when two boys started a scuffle. I helped sort it out, looked up on stage and a pretty, little brown ‘aired piece was singing her heart out.

Best set of lungs, and legs, I’ve seen on a 14 year old. ‘Aye, even then you knew she had something special.”

Musical entrepreneur is just one of Alan’s former careers. He claims to have previously worked as a barman, businessman and, perhaps more ironically, as a customer service assistant at the Job Centre. This was Alan’s final job before becoming a tramp.

“Yeah, I worked in the Job Centre for almost three years, helping drop outs and junkies to get a job, great life,” he muses sarcastically, “I had it all y’know, a great job wife, family, owned my own home but you come to a point when things start to fall to shit and you think there’s more to life. I’d rather rot than go back to the rat race. It weren’t for me.”

Alan remembers that pivotal day when his journey to tramphood began, when he left his old life behind: “I was watching ‘Neighbours’, I finished my cuppa, turned the TV off and left with the money I had in my pockets and the clothes on my back. I thought I’d go back after a couple of weeks, but I kept away and the longer I stayed away, the easier it got.”

Now perfectly settled, Boots doorway serves as his permanent abode and he’s lived there for just over two years, although Alan’s previous attempts to settle down were more of a trial and error experience. Initially, Alan attempted sleeping outside Tenvous, a local Charity shop; it proved successful for a short time as people donated old clothes in black bag’s for the shop’s morning intake. ‘It was prime pickings for a while, all top brand labels, Adidas and Nike some even still had the tags on.” But the authorities quickly cottoned on and Alan was swiftly moved.

He tried to get some shut-eye outside the local Wetherspoons but drunken

66 segue

customers tried to scam some of Alan’s hard-earned cash. “My saying is ‘don’t beg from a beggar man’.

People used to ask if I could lend them 50 pence. I mean, I’m practically dying of hypothermia and people are still asking me for money, it’s mad.”

Despite the odd scuffle Alan embraces all aspects of tramp life. Partial to the “odd flagon of White Lightning”; Alan enjoys warm nights down on the sea front and chatting to the locals. His freedom and lust for life is apparent. “When you think about it, I’m as free as a bird. I feel free and happy speaking to all the people who pass by.”

He’s familiar with most of the locals and greets them on a first name basis. Judging by their generosity and affectionate jibes they have grown accustomed to Alan as a permanent feature of Boots doorway. “Yeah, everyone knows me around here. I’m something of a local celebrity,” he mumbles proudly before (ahem) soberly reflecting, “And yes, sometimes it’s freezing, so cold I think my balls will drop off. But for the most part I’m happy. Happy as a pig in shit” Alan’s top five karaoke songs 1. ‘I Don’t Want To Talk About It’ 2. ‘Are You Lonesome Tonight?’

3. ‘I’m Still Standing’ 4. ‘I Heard It Through The Grapevine’ 5. ‘Living Doll’

Terry Alan

Terry Alan is unmistakable in both appearance and aroma, never seen without his trademark kilt, Doc Marten’s and can of Strongbow. Scottish born, Alan, is the Port Talbot bus station’s resident tramp.

His formative years are shrouded in mystery.

How and when he came to dwell in the Port Talbot area is unknown. But one thing for certain, Terry Alan is a permanent fixture in town and without him, Port Talbot would be a much duller place.

Chance encounters with ‘Terry The Tramp’ are a rite of passage when growing up in the Port Talbot area. Every member of this community has a small stake in his well-being; one resident washes his kilt on a regular basis, a local chip shop owner gives him left over chips and once, Terry was asked to appear as the special

guest at a wedding, in a nearby hotel.

“When I was 16, one of my best mates snogged Terry for a swig of his Strongbow,” one local confesses.

Despite Terry’s very public persona, myths and legends continue to circulate, gathering momentum as they’re passed down through the generations, adding to his enigma. Here we delve a little deeper into the psyche of ‘Terry the tramp’ in a bid to get to know the real Terry Alan.

Myth 1: Terry Alan is actually dead.

“Well if I was fookin’ dead, how the fook would I be here

“Even then, you knew Catherine Zeta-Jones had something special”

now talking to you!’ Terry cackles while rolling up a cigarette. “Nah, I was ill for a while and went away to get better, but I’m back now and fitter than ever,” he splutters out, half choking from a prolonged drag on his roll up.

DENIED Myth 2: Terry’s shacked up and soon to be married.

“Ahhh, ‘tis true I’m afraid, lady.” (I hear the distant shattering of a thousand south Walian hearts). Terry has been dating Jenna for almost 3 months now and has temporarily moved into her housing estate home. They have frequently been spotted walking their mongrel dog, holding hands and staring deeply into one another’s drunken, glazed eyes. “We are in love, as much as an old dog like me can be in love but there’s not a hope in hell we’ll be getting married, waste of money and Port fookin Talbot ain’t ready for a shindig like the one we’d have.”

AGREED Myth 3: Terry never wears underpants “Aye well, I wouldn’t be a true Scots man if I did.” Enough said!

AGREED Myth 4: Terry turned down the lead as Rob Roy in Swansea Grand Theatre’s production of Braveheart “Oh yeah… original Mel Gibson me,” Terry laughs with a renewed enthusiasm. Maybe it’s the alcohol but there’s a diamond-like glint in Terry’s good eye (the other one’s too inflamed to check) and this particular myth is definitely one that has the potential to be fulfilled.

PENDING

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comE

cLosER

Styling Daniel Authen Moe Photography June Witzoe Hair Doan Tran @ Olimb & Co Make-up Jan Gunnar Svenson (All clothes spring/summer 06)

Clockwise from top left Sweater Whyred Shorts Unconditional Tights Vintage Shoes Converse Vest Dolce Gabbana Shorts Unconditional Tights Vintage Shoes Converse Sequin t-shirt Ashish Tights Vintage Shoes Converse Vest Dolce & Gabbana Sequin track bottoms Ashish Shoes Converse Ring Dyrberg & Kern Necklace Stylist’s own Shoes Converse This page T-shirt Ashish

“ What is typically Brazilian?

The beach or the desert?

The paradise of sexual opportunity or the taboo of premarital sex?”

BR2 (equals Brazil x Britain)

Bunda- Portuguese for bum.

Carioca- A native of Rio de Janeiro.

70 segue

Brazilian at heart and British by choice, Mariana Velloso discovers how hard it is for a Latino woman to accept her figure in the UK.

“I don’t think you are a typical Brazilian!” remarks Kate, my utterly English friend. I always liked to consider myself a European soul wandering the globe, but Kate offended me. Who was she to define a typical Brazilian? Hell! How can someone who comes from a cold and rainy island, with two weeks of homespun sunshine a year and fifty weeks of dull, depressing British weather understand that rather than the ‘sun, sand and sex’ perception of Brazil, there exists a ‘Carioca’ lifestyle consisting of more than a bikini wax?

What the fuck is typically Brazilian? The beach or the desert? Laziness or arduous work for little pay?

The paradise of sexual opportunity (as advertised by the scantily-clad women on the postcards of Brazil) or the taboo of premarital sex (which still exists)? Clichéd preconceptions abound.

Brazil is AM, but my world is FM. I don’t fit. I can’t help it. Whoever invented these stereotypes (that to be ‘typically’ British is this, or ‘typically’ Norwegian is that), should die. Until I was 13, I always thought typical English women were neat, refined Mary Poppins’ types.

Instead we (Brits) are a nation of binge drinkers and proud of it, which puts us up there next to Brazilians who also like their beer and barbecue. So, obviously, things just don’t work that way.

Anyway. Kate was talking about my body and the myth of the Brazilian arse. Her point of reference is the Ipanema Girl stereotype: tall, tanned and golden haired, with her glistening round ‘cheeks’ and curved, generous waist.

Everywhere in the world, the bikini floss (which decorates Brazilian women’s rear ends) has become famous as a symbol of Brazil. So, if you’re a Brazilian woman, do you have to have a shapely bum?

And if you don’t, does it mean you’re not stunning?

Brazilian men and women assume so.

I am 5”5 and 59 kg (I don’t do stone and pounds!), clinically healthy with a desirable BMI figure of 22. In my teeny-weeny Rosa Cha bikini and Havainas

flip-flops next to my Brazilian chums flaunting their firm ‘bundas’, it’s a different world. The bum, which is a bit too big for England is too small for Brazil, with the reverse being true for my boobs.

I grew up with my mama telling me ‘don’t be ashamed of your body, it’s a beautiful thing’. It’s a cliché everyone grows up listening to. We listen, but in reality, things don’t work that way. Our body equals sex, seduction and desire.

Deep down, apparently all western women want to be thin, sexy, delicate and blonde, characteristics which French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu has said emphasizes their position of submission and invisibility in society. Contrarily men want to be tall, powerful, and potent, (the provider and rich), which Bourdieu says reinforces the idea of male domination.

Being Brazilian and accepting my figure in my new homeland of little Britain is hard for me to do. The image conscious culture of the UK is hard for someone from a culture where anything goes.

In Brazil the body is much more displayed and exposed and, therefore, is more looked after and valued. This is a nation where the ‘body’ works like everyday clothing, and ‘clothes’ are just an accessory to adorn the body. And in Brazil, beautiful comes in all shapes and sizes. To date, the buttocks (known as the ‘bandonkadonk’ and ‘junk in the trunk’) are still the number one masculine preference in Brazil, whereas boobs only became fashionable in the ‘90s with cosmetic surgery introducing breast implants.

If my brunette curls, mocha skin, boobs, and tiny bum (inherited from my father), are not typically Brazilian, well eat your heart out, ‘cause neither is Gisele Bundchen’s. Brazilians come in all shapes and sizes, and most are considered sexy.

But much to my surprise, back in Rio I face the same dilemma, “Yeh! Your arse is small. Ok, medium,” says Tatiana. “Your bum is becoming too British now”.

After 10 years living in the UK, seven in Brazil, three in South Korea, and two in Japan, maybe it’s about time I figured out that my bum is my nationality, and that my nationally is foreign wherever it goes.

Meddling and intrusive, the nosy neighbour is the person in our street we love to hate, says Michelle Cato.

Imagine you’re in bed trying to get to sleep when you hear people shouting and swearing outside.

You instantly jump out of bed, look out of the window and see the couple across the street having a domestic.

Do you shut the curtains, put some earplugs in and attempt to sleep through it? Or do you press your face against the window, call your best friend and give her a blow-by-blow account of the situation?

When we hear the phrase ‘nosy neighbour’, we think of curtain-twitching pensioners, bored housewives and neighbours from hell. This stigma means that no one ever admits to being one. However, those who criticise are often the very people who point out that Mr Jones’ car has not been seen for a week and Mrs Jones was in tears yesterday as she left to pick up the kids. But they insist they are not nosy, they’re simply observant.

It is unclear why there is a stigma attached to being a nosey neighbour. Some may say it’s the reserved nature of the British, the fact that we prefer to keep ourselves to ourselves. But our love of soap operas makes prying a part of our culture. We are used to watching other people’s lives unfold from the comfort of our own homes. Millions of viewers tune in to watch the most famous nosy neighbours. Pauline Fowler from Eastenders, the classic meddler, the most interfering woman on the square and one of the most disliked characters. Norris from Coronation Street is the typical busybody who always has an opinion on other peoples’ business. Soap writers need to make the nosy neighbour tag more appealing instead of casting the stereotypical pensioner with too much time on their hands. This would make the label more acceptable.

There are different degrees of meddling neighbours. The curtain-twitchers, who are the people who like to see what’s going on, but in a more discreet fashion. This is the category that most people fall into.

On the next level, there are gossipmongers. These are the people who pop by unannounced to inspect your house and promptly report back to their friend at number ten. Finally, the ringleader is top of the nosy neighbour pecking order. This person is the Dot Cotton of your neighbourhood. Anything gossip related, this person knows about. Any major event, they were there, and if they weren’t, they have it on their makeshift CCTV camera (a video camera set up in the front window disguised by an ornament). However, these are the people you should be most wary of; they give the rest of us a bad name by taking it a step too far.

The nosy neighbour is a British institution that needs to be kept alive. We need to embrace this intrusive side of our personalities and be proud of it. If it wasn’t for our fellow nosy neighbours, the other side of the garden fence would remain a complete mystery.

“The nosy neighbour is a British institution that needs to be kept alive. We should embrace the intrusive side of our personalities and be proud of it”

LoAthe thY

Photography: Les Trois Garçons

M é nage

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Photography: Les Trois Garçons

Les Trois Garçons ditches the minimalist approach, going all out for fantasy and glamour. Ceri Chang discovers what designers are calling the new maximalism.

The black and white four-storey Victorian building standing on the corner of Club Row, Bethnal Green, London is the Les Trois Garçons restaurant. Two flaming torches flicker, one each side of the doorway. The curtains are closed and the lights inside pierce through the dark windows. There’s a mystery about this place, which draws you in to have a closer look.

Hassan Abdullah, part-owner of Les Trois Garçons, stands behind the grand, solid mahogany bar which dominates one side of the restaurant. Hanging on the wall is a giraffe’s head. On the other side of the room, a Siberian white tiger stands frozen. Glistening chandeliers drop towards the dark wood floor and handbags are suspended from the ceiling. This is a fantasy world, far away from the dreary east London streets that surround it.

Malaysian-born Abdullah owns the venue - as well as Annexe Trois a bar/restaurant, and Lounge Lover, a cocktail bar next door - with his two partners, Michel Lasserre and Stefan Karlson. Hassan, the man behind the interior design off the place, explains how it all started: “We’ve known each other for about fifteen years. I first met Stefan while I was in Malaysia visiting my parents; he was on holiday. Michel came to London later to study English. We all lived together in Notting Hill and then we collaborated on an antiques business. Eventually, we became involved in interior design - with myself designing, Stefan dealing with administration and Michel with the antiques side of things.”

In 1996, they bought the former public house at 1 Club Row but the building was in ruins. “All our friends thought we were mad. They said, ‘Why are you living here? Nobody has even heard of this area,’” says Hassan. “There was water dripping from the roof. The basement was completely flooded.

There must have been drug addicts and squatters living here because there were needles everywhere. The walls were full of holes and all the doors were kicked in. There were no toilets, so we can only imagine that people were peeing down the toilet hole. It was disgusting. But we just told ourselves, ‘We can do it

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up slowly,’ and now the property is worth sixteen times what we paid for it.”

Originally, the restaurant was the trio’s own dining room. Yet the success of their private, themed parties highlighted a talent for entertaining. Creativity was at the root of their success.

Hassan believes that every space he designs deserves a special touch. His philosophy leaves no room for the cold minimalism traditionally associated with the leisure industry. “I don’t go to places like Strada or Pizza Express. Even Tesco depresses me. There’s so much more charm in smaller shops and restaurants,” he says, “My design is very personal. It’s not about a corporate look,” he says with disdain. “I want people to feel at home in my interiors.”

He raises his hands in delight as he recalls how Baz Luhrman – the much-revered director of Moulin Rouge – describes the restaurant as a second home. “Going out has to be about escapism – fantasy in a way. It is about being in a different environment but happy to be there.’

At first sight Les Trois Garçons appears cluttered, but it is an aspirational kind of creative clutter. Souvenirs that are scattered around, chandeliers from the 1940s and ‘50s, Victorian costume jewellery and 20th century handbags ornament the lavish space. Careful planning ensures that the classic and contemporary gel effortlessly. The result works.

“Some people believe that to be quirky you have to display everything haphazardly. I find that so disturbing. It’s got to be pleasing to the eye and it has to be calm and settling,” says Hassan. “Every piece should be respected. If you chose something then it’s because you love it. You should put it in the right setting and let it breathe. Our house is cluttered but when you look at each piece, you appreciate it for what it is. It’s organised chaos.’

Since the opening of Les Trois Garçons five years ago, the restaurant has attracted interest from a number of A-list celebrities and now boasts a cult following. Hassan reels off the names in his gold guest book: “Gwyneth Paltrow, Nicole Kidman, Baz Luhrmann, Donatella Versace, Liz Hurley, Damien Hirst, Sam Taylor-Wood, Jake from the Scissor Sisters…”

“G

Going out has to be about escapism.

It’s all fantasy”

The first buzz of interest was brewing before they even opened.

“Whilst we were doing it up, photographers Mario Testino and Martyn Thompson kept asking, ‘What’s happening?’ They wanted to do photo shoots. From the minute we opened we had a flurry of guests, all following the hype.”

It’s not surprising that it has captured the attention of visitors. A stuffed animal wearing a tiara doesn’t exactly fit the traditional design aesthetic, “We don’t believe in hunting,” Hassan urges quickly. “I just think it is a waste to leave these magnificent animals festering in an attic. We should appreciate how beautiful they are. That’s why I put tiaras on them: to make them look even more glamorous.”

The huge response to Les Trois Garçons’ decor has signalled a new trend in ‘maximalism’. Interiors are gradually losing the clean-cut lines that cut through the last decade, to be replaced by luxuriant and elaborate design. Habitat’s latest collection, including wallpapers created by Roland Mouret and Matthew Williamson, draws on a rich colour palette of chocolate and gold. Cushions, bed linen and accessories have blossomed with floral sprigs and intricate oriental prints. Osborne and Little, UK fabric and wallpaper specialists, are the leaders in maximal design. Their new vintage collection epitomizes opulence at its twenty-first best.

“When we did Les Trois Garçons I really wanted a challenge,” says Hassan emphatically. “I did it with my heart, not to impress anyone or to be trendy. For me it was about enhancing and glamorising the space – making it fun. When you go into a room it has to put a smile on your face or it’s not worth it.” As he looks up at the rainbow-mirrored ceiling tiles a grin quivers at the corner of his lips. Les Trois Garçons is definitely worth it.

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The graduates CALLIE ADAMS Winning a club award for the best fashion design aged nine years, Callie Adams (now 21) decided to put her flare for clothes and writing together by taking up Fashion Journalism. Callie has learnt a great deal from her three years at university and with work placements at Condé Nast Online, WGSN and Elle Girl, she is certain that the fashion industry is for her. “Writing about clothes and compiling them for shoots is what makes my heart flutter,” she says. “My dream is to become a fashion assistant and eventually fashion editor of a highend publication.”

Mobile: 07738284170 Email: callieads_14@yahoo.co.uk AMAYA ALVAREZ Amaya Alvarez has both agency and freelance experience under her belt, thanks to working in fashion, health & beauty PR for the past six years. Her client list includes MaxMara, Rimmel and MaxFactor, so it’s natural that her aim is to become a PR guru. This summer, however, she will sample the delights on offer in Barcelona and try to learn the lingo. Throughout her university years, Amaya has enjoyed learning photography and broadcast, while developing different writing styles – all valuable skills that she feels will continue to influence her life and take her to the top.

Mobile: 07793 218 072 Email: amayaalvarez71@hotmail.com CLARE BASTIN Since picking up a notebook at ten years-old to play ‘reporter’, Clare Bastin has worked hard to achieve her ambition. Inquisitive, sometimes bordering on the downright nosy, Clare always strives to find out the 5 Ws of life and knows a good story when she sees one. Using these natural journalistic instincts, she aims to combine her strength of hard-hitting investigative writing with work in broadcasting. A previous placement at Kilpatrick PR plus determination, dynamism and commitment has helped her land the post of press assistant for the Discovery Channel. With that, Clare is well on her way to goal.

Mobile: 07815856121 Email: clarebastin@hotmail.com JULIA BRENARD Julia Brenard, 21, is obsessed with clothes (especially shoes). Talented in both writing and styling, she is addicted to the fast-paced, everchanging nature of fashion and loves nothing more than a looming deadline. Knowledgeable about fashion history, Julia brings insight to fashion trends. Ambitious and determined, she has completed internships at Tank and Attitude but dreams of working for Harper’s Bazaar. Julia’s next off to Grazia and Vogue, so watch this space…

Mobile: 07944 216 270 Email: juliabrenard@hotmail.com

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MICHELLE CATO Michelle Cato is a happy, confident Taurean. During her 3-year degree she has acquired a range of skills and versatility in her writing. She was able to put these skills to good use while on work placements at WGSN and Condé Nast Online. These included a published trend piece for WGSN and contributions to Glamour.com and Easyliving.com. Michelle hopes to work her way up to being a well-respected fashion journalist.

Mobile: 07730 593647 Email: missibab@yahoo.co.uk or missibab@hotmail.co.uk CERI CHANG While working full-time as a retail manager, Ceri Chang (27) faced her fears and leapt into education again. Ready to face any challenge, Ceri had several articles published in The Bath Chronicle, The Bristol Evening Post and The Gazette whilst on work experience and gained valuable experience in PR. Her passions span broadcasting, journalism and PR so she feels a career in London’s media is calling.

Mobile 07723 364 500 Email: cerichang@yahoo.co.uk SOPHIE COLLING Sophie Colling is a fashion-loving student, who thrives on the London party scene. This fits well with her extensive experience in the events industry. She has collaborated with some of London’s top club owners to host exclusive parties such as the launch of the Sex & The City DVD box set and Guy Ritchie’s after-show party for the film, Revolver. As a graduate, she hopes to work for a London-based events company.

Mobile: 07736 299 383 Email: soph_a_c@hotmail.com RACHEL CROSSAN Rachel Crossan is one of the most opinionated and frank journalists you could come across. Rachel, 21, has a creative, frenzied and unusual imagination. Her ultimate career goal is to be a newspaper columnist - even if it means stealing the job from her idol Jeremy Clarkson. Her work experience includes Kaiz Boutique, Fashion Monitor and Cheeky Monkey PR. With her ambitious attitude, she is determined you will hear from her soon.

Mobile: 07730 676 598 Email: rachel_crossan1985@hotmail.com

RUTH CURRAN As a self-confessed shopaholic with a passion for jewellery and shoes, Ruth Curran’s student loan didn’t last long! Even her final major project – an in-store magazine – was inspired by a part-time retail job at Warehouse. Her creative flair and hardworking nature have helped her get the most from work placements at Company and Warehouse PR. Now, she aims to combine her talent for styling with her interest in communications to pursue a career in fashion marketing.

Mobile: 07834 271 514 Email: msgiggles17@hotmail.com RACHEL DARTMOUTH Rachel Dartmouth is a keen journalist whose love of fashion has always been encouraged by her mother. They share an enthusiasm for the latest look and spotting the next big fashion writer. This course has given her the opportunity to indulge both her passions and she has enjoyed a mixed and varied three years of study. She’s aiming for a career in buying or fashion marketing and hopes to keep developing her own style.

Mobile: 07974 029 657 Email: r4chl_7@hotmail.com ERIC DOWN Eric Down is currently London correspondent and UK news columnist for bi-monthly American gay magazine, Scene. He has recently completed a feature for US style mag, Genre, as well as contributing regularly to AXM in the UK. Previous interviewees include Krishnan Guru-Murthy (Channel 4 News), Zandra Rhodes (fashion designer), Dylan Jones (editor British GQ) and Ben Cohen (UK Rugby International). He has also completed an internship at Harper’s Bazaar UK. He now hopes to develop his styling and photographic work examples of both are available on request.

Mobile: 07841457708 Email: ericup30@hotmail.com TERESKA EBANKS After dabbling with PR, photography and broadcasting, Tereska Ebanks has determined that writing is her passion. The course has brought out this bubbly Virgo’s full potential. Confident, hard-working and armed with a charming smile, she is always ready to learn. With particular interests in interviewing and investigative pieces, Tereska describes her style as fresh, engaging and always entertaining. One day, she would love to take a bite out of the Big Apple.

Mobile: 07939 026 646 Email: watchthispace@hotmail.com

CASSIE FITZPATRICK Welsh lamb Cassie Fitzpatrick loves anything remotely kitsch, colourful, quirky or, frankly, trashy. She cut her fashionista teeth while interning with the fashion team at Attitude, then moved to the editorial teams of Bliss and Smash Hits. Most recently, Cassie spent a year as fashion assistant on Fashion Inc (formerly Loaded Fashion) and has been the styling assistant on the recent Burtons, House of Fraser, Florence and Fred, Pierre Cardin and Hackett campaigns. She is “well-chuffed” to have just landed a job at trendstop.com, forecasting trends.

Mobile: 07792 780 973 Email: dizzyfitz_cas@hotmail.com or freelance_kittylitter@hotmail.com EMMA-JANE HAIGH Born in idyllic countryside, city-savvy Emma-Jane Haigh remains an English rose at heart. She believes life should be overflowing with natural goodness and is an avid follower of the five-a-day/mung bean army. A self-proclaimed perfectionist with a flair for creative writing and a growing passion for health, beauty and well-being issues, EmmaJane instinctively knows where she wants to make her mark. She has also grown to love the creativity of the fashion industry via a spell running WGSN-edu and a placement at Halpern PR. Mobile: 07776132090 Email: emmajane_h@hotmail.com PARV JASS After studying a City & Guilds in Radio and Journalism, Parv enrolled at Epsom to expand her knowledge of fashion and media. This course has enabled her to experiment with different ideas and challenged her creativity. During the course Parv developed a passion for health and beauty journalism which led to an internship with leading health and beauty PR company, Strawberry PR. Upon graduation, her hope is to work in Beauty PR. Mobile: 07931 748 911 Email: parvjass@hotmail.com SARAH MELLIS For the past several months Sarah Mellis has been working as an editorial assistant for a new magazine (with a top secret name!). As a super-organized, highly-motivated individual who aspires to become a top lifestyle journalist for print or web, placements at Bliss and Ice magazines have given her a glimpse of what she hopes is yet to come.

Despite the competition, Sarah knows what she wants and can’t wait to go out there and grab it.

Mobile: 07749 552 997 Email: smellis_281@hotmail.com

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Thegraduates HAYLEY MILLS Hayley Mills, 20, came to university with dreams of becoming London’s Carrie Bradshaw. She quickly found herself religiously reading Vogue and Elle magazines and discovering fashion on a whole new level.

Known for being creative and needing to express herself, the last three years have only increased her desire to do so - in the form of profile, trend, catwalk and feature pieces.

Mobile: 07921 909 870 Email: hayley_850711@hotmail.com

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RACHEL PALMER Not one to take life too seriously, Rachel Palmer seizes every single opportunity to induce a smile. Just when you think you have this girl sussed she’ll step out in her Sunday best… on a Wednesday. Her laidback attitude is a calming, supportive influence, yet she thrives on the pressure of a tight deadline. Past experience includes Premier modelling agency and Closer magazine. Rachel‘s dream is to combine her love of music and all things trashy with her over-indulgence in fashion.

Mobile: 07921 862 419 Email: rachiep@hotmail.com

DANIEL AUTHEN MOE Outgoing, twenty-something, Norwegian graduate is looking for that special partner. Enjoys a little mischief in the fashion capitals, leisurely strolls on the catwalk and nights in with a looming deadline – definitely a man for all occasions. Good understanding of the industry. Worked on music, editorial and catwalk shows. Previous relationships include Marmalade magazine, Blow PR and numerous stylists; now seeks someone who will challenge and stimulate. If the man for you, please contact…

Mobile:07709 141 288 Email: daniel_authen_moe@hotmail.com

CHARLOTTE PEARN When choosing her field of study, Charlotte Pearn had to decide between a career in medical science or fashion journalism. Three years and one degree later, the verdict is in. Spurred on by her unrivalled love of the written word, Charlotte has become a literary experimenter.

With boundless enthusiasm and a surfeit of ideas, she hopes to impress her presence upon the world of alternative fashion magazines, freelancing her way into the consciousness of the cultural vanguard.

Mobile: 07702 784 434 Email: lottiepea@yahoo.com

DENISE MORGAN Once upon a time, in far away Birmingham, there lived a young woman named Denise Morgan. She was a sprightly girly, with hair as dark as the night and freckles like wasps ‘round a sugar spillage. One day she observed two strange-looking females - likely victims of the stretching rack - frolicking in front of a slick photographer with an orange tan.

The clothes were of such beauty that she fell in love. This love spurred her on to become a journalist and – via WGSN – she sculpted the printed word. She knows her mind’s creations can only lead to happily ever after.

Mobile: 07834 971 755 Email: Denise.e.morgan@hotmail.co.uk

LUCY REBER Lucy Reber is creative and enthusiastic, with an infectious cheerfulness. During her time at university she has acquired extensive knowledge of the industry through numerous placements such as Company and Easy Living magazines. Lucy has been assistant to stylist Angela Aaron on America’s Next Top Model and fashion editor Karen Foster on an M&S ad campaign. Most recently she assisted the Marc

by Marc Jacobs team during their research week. Lucy admits she is a fashion devotee, determined to work in the industry – and the big names are noticing.

Mobile: 07904 221 061 Email: lucyreber@hotmail.com

SINEAD O’DONOGHUE Sky’s been the linit so far for Sinead O’Donoghue. She has spent quite a bit of time on their PR team working for SKy One, Sky News and Sky Movies. And while she plans to stay a while longer, her ultimate aim - being the style junkie that she is - is a career as a magazine fashion journalist. Her brief experience on Teen mag Mizz, combined with her fondness for styling on photoshoots, is responsible for her determination to work for industry leaders Elle, Marie Claire and Glamour. How’s that for blue sky thinking!?!

Mobile: 07745 548 235 Email: Odonoghue823@aol.com

JOSIE SMART As a curly-haired eight-year-old, growing up in a creative household, Josi Smart used to model her grandmother’s designs. This pretty much cemented her desire to work in the fashion industry. Now, with past projects ranging from art directing the course’s fashion magazine Bespoke, to interviewing Caryn Franklin for i-D magazine’s 25th anniversary celebration, Josi is ready to take on the fast-paced world of fashion writing. She believes her flexible nature will be key to becoming a successful freelance journalist and hopefully, writing her own book one day.

AMY STRANG At just 20 years old, Amy Strang is a fashion junkie, always keeping an eye on shopping trends at every chance. Growing up she had many dreams, mainly to be as successful as possible doing as little as possible. However, she gets bored with nothing to do and feels the fast paced, pressurised world of fashion journalism is just for her. Working under pressure is when Amy often produces her best work. She can be funny, witty or serious, but mostly honest and straightforward. After three years of journalism, Amy is hoping to start a fulfilling career doing what she loves: shopping, writing about shopping and reading about… shopping.

Mobile: 07944 951 521 Email: amystrang05@yahoo.co.uk

MARIANA VELLOSO Anglo-Brazilian, Mariana Velloso’s strength lies in her visual creativeness. She has experimented with her own designs using Photoshop, InDesign and Illustrator throughout her time in university.

A love of photography is her greatest indulgence. Her passion for styling fashion shoots, creating images and manipulating them digitally, means she is looking for a career that incorporates both journalism and design. She may be hearing-impaired but Mariana’s always dealt with it positively and it has never prevented her from doing anything, as evidenced by her work placements at CosmoGirl, Mandi Lennard Publicity and Instyle.

Mobile: 07950 429 148 Email: marianavelloso@hotmail.com

KIMBERLY THROWER After finishing college, Kimberley Thrower felt the only thing that she was remotely interested in was fashion because she had cut up clothes and made re-incarnations of the designer versions ever since she could remember. In university, however, she learned how to write creatively. Her work experience includes stints at Celebs, ES magazine, the Daily Mirror, FHM, Spin Publicity and many more. Kimberley’s fasttalking, idea-popping brain is complemented by a strong personality and reliable nature (as hardcore as her partying).

Mobile: 07888 722 817 Email: kimberlyt@hotmail.co.uk

GEMMA WARD Blending a passion for the English language with indulgent grooming treatments, Gemma Ward has discovered her niche as a beauty journalist. After a brief fling as a beauty PR, she catapulted herself into the industry with alacrity. She made it her mission to become known in the business with various professional hair and beauty trade shows fuelling her knowledge. Her contact book bulging, she soon landed a features writer position at Scratch magazine, where she is currently thriving. Gemma aims to speedily climb up the career ladder and launch her own magazine by the time she is 35.

Mobile: 07745 030 095 Email: gemma.ward@gmail.com

LOUISA TUCKER Louisa Tucker is determined to have her high-heeled foot in the industry door within the year. Throughout her degree, her love of clothing has grown and grown, to the point where her attentions have turned from writing to buying. “Eventually, I would love to buy for a high fashion department store. Think of the discount!” she says of her dreams. Louisa’s eye for interesting garment details, her strong organisational skills and shopping prowess means that the department stores should be knocking in no time.

Mobile: 07863 137 551 Email: louisa.tucker2@virgin.net

SARAH E. WATKINS Sarah E. Watkins blames growing up in a secluded, West Country forest village for her obsession with all things weird and sometimes, quite frankly, a little bit sick. Having interviewed porn stars, juvenile offenders, “Scrumpy and Western” band the Wurzels and OAPs, it is clear that she has an eye for the queer and misunderstood. Sarah’s work displays a flair for unusual ideas and an ability to make subjects that are often brushed under the carpet into interesting stories.

Sarah’s dream job would be to research darker topics and work on gritty TV documentaries. In the meantime, Sarah is working as a freelance journalist fuelled by experiences at Smash Hits, Mojo, Closer and Bench.

Mobile: 07932 036 433 Email: sarahliz_watkins@hotmail.co.uk

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“Think creative and you’ll see what you want to see”

The moral tale of the brain on the ceiling of Camden Town Tube, as witnessed by Sarah Watkins.

Jesus is often to be found reincarnated as a piece of toast. He also spends a lot of time in trees and bowls of porridge. A very convincing Liam Gallagher was also recently spotted in a dirty puddle on a council estate. These sightings are routinely dismissed as poppycock since the visionaries who have them are often Christians or, in the case of the Liam puddle, a highlysexed Oasis fan strung out on Magic Mushrooms.

The sight of a brain then, on the ceiling of the Camden Town Underground, should be the epiphany of a brain surgeon, not three fashion-savvy chicks in their early twenties. The phenomenon of the brain on the ceiling was a very real occurrence which not one of the collective can easily dismiss. To repeat: there was a brain, albeit made of flakes of paint and mortar, on the ceiling.

The moral of this story is, think creative and you’ll see what you want to see. Be creative and what you want to see is already there.

miND oveR