LONDON, NEW YORK, NEW ORLEANS…

Art, Fashion, Journalism, literature, london, Music, Nightlife, Politics, spoken word

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words chez moi –  photos by Lilly Creightmore at the NOKI x COLD LIPS party for LFW 15th Feb 18 (artwork below by me for the Tweet Me Up show at the Tate, 2012)

The artist NOKI’s work is Fashion AND anti-brand – ya – confusing, right 🤓🤪😫🤯 (you can read more to understand his work on Cold Lips, and i-D, or in the exclusive interview in the third issue we created for the show – Paypal: studio@coldlips.co.uk with £2.99, and a bit for postage if you can afford it, or visit the www.coldlips.co.uk shop), and in the same way, I don’t really know when a zine becomes a magazine, or a fanzine becomes a zine, becomes a magazine.  Sometimes Cold Lips gets called a zine, sometimes a magazine, sometimes a fanzine.  Labels fuck everything up as much as money, and our desire to have the beautiful things in the world.  I mean – I’d wear some of that new Fendi garb… But my conscience battles with the lameness of existing to an index of any kind – negotiating my life through stupid tokens of success, and signals of others. OM! Be gone!  Whether we want to become collectors of water-chiselled bedrocks from Korea, or a piece of Vetements bearing a DHL logo – let’s not be slaves in a battered joke of a vehicle that’s cruising towards a major crash in a post-Colette world of slavery to pop-up distractors.  So when I see content from fashion lifestyle magazines doing little else but promote the production abilities of their glorious advertisers: LMVH (who look after Loewe, Louis Vuitton, Moet, Fendi, Celine, Dior, Pucci, Givenchy, Kenzo, Mark Jacobs, Thomas Pink, Nicholas Kirkwood, Edun and more) or Chanel S.A. (who own Chanel), or Kering (who own much of Gucci, Saint Laurent, Bottega Veneta, McQueen, Stella McCartney, Christopher Kane, Puma, and more) – or the mega-firms of Proctor and Gamble, L’Oreal and Unilever, all pushing ideas of beauty upon my information-pummelled eyes, just to keep the cash circus circulating, I get sick, and I want to withdraw.  Because that’s just one idea of Fashion.  Not only do I want some of the clothes and the wedge from holding those ads, I don’t wanna compromise anything we’re doing in COLD LIPS – which I started to perpetuate the subculture that created it.  Which I’ll come back to – but meanwhile, rather than bemoan the luxury oppressors who I adore, we shall party.  Which is good.  As I’ve always enjoyed a good underground night out.  So it was an honour to be a part of the propaganda team for the NOKI private view on the dawn of London Fashion Week this February – and later all laugh on WhatsApp seeing FENDI do what FILA do, throwing the South London streetwear irony back in the face of the kids that created that look, and see Feral’s look parade down the Gucci line eleven years late…

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FACE UP

We had performances from Anne McCloy, who was a resident at the spoken word night that began Cold Lips, she’s toured with Peter Doherty, made merch for many, and lectures at St Martin’s, asking people to challenge what fashion is, daily. Gary Fairfull stepped up with his NHS poem, he gave the original spoken word night its platform.  Feral Is Kinky – a fashion subculture stalwart, known most for singing Everything Starts With An E with Boy George – but currently slamming it out of the underground gay scene to River Island commercial mainstream brilliance, and back again. We also had the word artist Robert Montgomery and poet/filmmaker/model Greta Bellamacina who are the forthcoming cover stars for Cold Lips IV – it’s SUCH A HOT SHOOT by Lilly Creightmore (we turn Robert into the muse of Syd Barrett as per Madcap Laughs, and dress Greta in Vampire’s Wife).   I also put down some lines.  And the beatbox supremo Killa Kella, and DJs Q Boy and Ladylaw.

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43 days too late for Canada Day

Fashion

This post is dedicated to the people of Canada (and was particularly requested by Helen Barker-Earley  of Halifax, Nova Scotia).  I was supposed to post a red dress on July 1st because I understand all patriotic maple leaf lovers do something similar…late, here’s a dress I wore ages ago, which is in fact a bedspread, for Oxfam, but it’s red.  The stylist and designer Fiona Doran aka Mrs Jones also made me into wallpaper for the Camden Oxfam boutique she kitted out…I’m still there, plastered to the walls.  

The other outfit for today is my Burgon and Ball fork and trowel.  Shirt by Antik Batik.  Shorts by Joseph.  Black micro waistcoat, Stradivarius.  Belt with religious iconography, used to belong to the designer Mat Maitland, he got it in New York, I swapped it for a mini-amp for the guitar and a Hysteric Glamour T-shirt.

Day 18s and over only

Design, Fashion, Music, Poetry

Up the nylon carpeted stairs of 71 St John Street, past the PYMCA and Espionage offices is the new Biba.  The Mrs Jones Emporium provides salvage to rock stars and rockette starlets, from Paloma Faith to Kylie.  With a plastic flower strewn roof garden, living-room style hairdressing salon, and full transform-your-lifestyle kit shop, you have entered the entrancing world of my pal Fee Doran (aka Mrs Jones).  It’s a mantric chamber to leather, feathers, silks and tails.

There are clothes (many have been worn by musicians, various designers), interiors (brilliant collabs with furniture maker Louis Baker and others), alongside various art (including gorgeous Indian god prints by Crazy Girl),  It’s pure Mr Ben.  Fee’s style is the best amalgam of magpie vintage, from Woodstock to Studio 54, Essex hairdresser to Shepherd’s Bush Market.  I love her, and her dog, Ruffles, or something, currently sporting  orange tiger stripes.  Fully recommended.  Prices start at £7, for an eggcup reading ‘you’re doing my head in’There’s a full story with Mrs Jones that I did a while ago here… (you’ll have to root around between other interviews all done for Channel4.com)

Also on my travels today, fell into Darkwave on Lamb’s Conduit Street.  Inspiring interiors.  After a peppermint tea in The Bloomsbury Lounge I went to a lesbian moustache convention, sorry, a poetry gig, read something, then finally got to see Woman E who bring drama to electronica, in a good way.  Rennaisance being my fave track today, with the rap, ‘90s throwback, panic attack’…perhaps.


Woman E.  Putting the E into EuroElectronica.

Today, pictured in the Blooomsbury Lounge of the Perseverance pub on Lamb’s Conduit Street, wearing: Alpuharran poncho, available in good tourist shops in the mountains near Orgiva, Spain.  Aubergine leather boots, McQueen.  Catsuit, American Apparel.

A lady looking for freedom in Hoxton a few nights ago

Cooler than a smack sorbet, John Foxx, playing his Analogue show on Saturday.

See post, Day 15, White Out at the Roundhouse

Louis Eliot and the Embers: from last night, my mum would like it too.  R2, get on it!

See post ‘She was just 17’