Thursday, 14 January 2010

Lyle Lodwick for the Spring 2010 UO Catalogue

Photography Marlene Marino
Styling Kimberly Bruckbauer
Urban Outfitters Spring 2010 Catalogue

Monday, 11 January 2010

Turning your labia into a yaybia

Sunday, 10 January 2010

Lily D

Hackney wildlife

Take a look at our morning visitors, a nice change from the juvenile hoodlums....

Friday, 8 January 2010

One life for sale

So today was my day off, a day that I had prepared to an anal extent with endless tasks that would leave this space in my week under the title of productive. Oh how wrong I was, today was hella boring. Like even my lie in got screwed over by the assholes that decided it would be totally ok to have a snowball fight on their way to school, my taunts of shut the fuck up did little to destroy their fun. So I lay in the little piece of heaven that was my electric blanket dozing in and out of dreams about random but surprisingly satisfying sex with people I wasn’t even that attracted too. Eventually I woke up to our house cat shot putting any kind of painful ammunition at my face as he attempted to climb the walls of my room, time to get up me thinks. The massively shitty thing about not living with your parents is the lack of any kind of decent food, like I can’t even remember the last time I ate something that wasn’t out of a can and I've unwillingly become a connoisseur of our corner shop delicacies. This is completely self inflicted mind you, I choose to spend whatever little money I do receive on intoxicating substances and fur coats, so meals have slowly deteriorated to freddos (the caramel one’s I have you know) and twenty pence noodles. Anyway I started my day in good health determined to leave my house and do all I had planned, fuck that, I mean I couldn’t even open our front door due to the layer of ice that had culminated outside, my pathetic reasons for staying put were only cemented by the arrival of the postman and more to the point, the arrival of his ass on my front doorstep. Like he even had those special bad ass postman shoes that are ‘supposed’ to grip to the floor, my sketchy boots didn’t stand a chance. So blah blah blah cutting all my bullshit short my day basically ended up in me playing crash bandicoot for way too long, reading lads mags and deciding that I could totally get a boob job if I got out a new credit card, then being persuaded by mother that in fact there’s nothing wrong with my tits and I couldn’t afford one anyway, add this to a marathon of newly discovered seventies porno’s all whilst eating copious amounts of that froggy little bastard. Deep. Ugh to my life.

Thursday, 7 January 2010

Your heart and Mine

Brilliant Movie, Brilliant Soundtrack. END OF.

Sex Ed

The days of females living out the whole pride and prejudice sexual refinement thing, are well and truly over, we all know the streets are full of women who think the fact that their lady parts are on show is some kind of warped empowerment, and we all know that’s bullshit, but there are a small collection of women who are able to combine, modern day sexual authority and feminine charms without looking like a total slut in the process. Personally I can’t understand why women who actively display their need for sexual fulfilment arises as a surprise to some people, history actually diagnosed sexual frustration as a disease that was curable only by treatments involving masturbation. True story.

You see during the mid 1800's women were treated for what physicians called "hysteria". The symptoms? Irritability, unwarranted vaginal fluids, heavy uterus and fantasies. Women were quite simply frustrated in their sexual release, all in an era when women were not seen as being sexual in any way. The treatment would you believe, was for the physician to massage his patient's clitoris until "paroxysm" was achieved. Or as is commonly referred to today, the orgasm. He would often dispense an apparatus that, although phallus shaped, was referred to as a therapeutic device. Perhaps the world would be a better place if dildos were dispensed instead of medications for anxiety.
Even before the 1800s women were finding ways to sexual relive themselves, the earliest dildo was found some 30,000 years ago somewhere in Germany and was double ended, possibly made from tar, stone or wood ( thank fuck for the boffins that invented durable materials). In many parts of the mid-east females were also fashioning their fun, this time using dried camel dung. In true blue peter style they would coat the d.i.y dildo in resin to attempt to block the smell during times of self - pleasure. Now putting aside the thought of Cleopatra getting herself off with a mouldy bit of camel shit, or Fritz Hans getting her double ended jolly’s from a rock, these examples of early sex toys are an important piece of evidence furthering the idea that females sexual needs are not a modern day occurrence.
As the toys became more prevalent in society, they were eventually seen for the sexual devices they are and began their decent to the underground world of unspoken delight. No longer the public cure for the ills of women, they did not re-emerge into the light of human sexuality until mid century again.
Today the varieties are countless and the camel dung dildo has gone the way of the physician's massage. Extinction. Now I consider myself fairly educated when it comes to sex, yet this has shown me I knew nothing when it came to the dildo, seriously the sex toy market is phenomenal; the dildo is the pick and mix of the adult world. There are harness mounted dildos, inflatable dildos, wall mounted dildos, steel dildos, even jewelled dildos, the possibilities are actually endless, I mean an inflatable dildo? Really?! I dread to imagine.
Yet it strives to prove our evolvement from the days of prehistoric pleasure or does it? I mean the double ended dildo is not something new, and even Shakespeare was using the dildo as a point of reference in his work, so why do we still feel the need to tarnish this wondrous invention as underground and slightly seedy. The dildo should be embraced for the wonder it truly is, if not as your friend as a historical sign of advanced sexuality, no one wants to have hysteria treatment brought back into play now do they, just imagine the insurance claims for massage of the clitoris due to anxiety!?

The Rise of Satyenkumar

As an off schedule newcomer you’d be forgiven for passing by the luxe menswear designs of Satyenkumar, his patterned knits and aertex trousers as admirable as they were, somehow became lost behind the rails of Harrods (of which he sold at for two seasons). However in the last few months this young St Martin’s graduate has started to generate the hubbub of attention he truly deserves. Nothing showcases this more than his recent Spring/Summer collection, based upon a Sunrise to Sunset colour pallet, Satyenkumar’s ‘kaleidoscopic’ take on menswear stood as a lungful of inspiration amongst the rather monotone daywear collections. Providing the perfect remedy to Spring Summer, Satyenkumar is able to combine lightweight materials such as tuille and Habotai and deliver them as subtly tailored creations. Proving himself as the forerunner for the sheer trend that looks set to fly this summer.
 Images from Dazed Digital

True Love

Wednesday, 6 January 2010

Just for the fun of it

I’ve always been intrigued by breasts and not even those of any sufficient size. Those wonderful nebulous protrusions adorn the walls of my room turning into an animated mammary gland land. Maybe its envy or maybe it’s just some kind of twisted admiration but whatever it is the fact remains that breasts are brilliant. Here’s a small taster of some wonderful titties.

Jonathan black
Richard Kern
Jonathan Black for VICE magazine

Have you ever?

Fresh Meat

Elites newest sign up; the lovely Nastya Portna


Harpers Bazaar Ukraine December 2009

I blame Coco

I am and have been for some time now, completely and undeniably infatuated with Eliot Sumner. Better known as the front liner of I blame coco, she is the hopelessly beautiful offspring of the equally talented Sting. A young, stiflingly perfect individual with a talent so overpowering it hits you right where it hurts. Imagine Sting back in his police days; now inject that with a large helping of ska and just the right amount of soul and your only half way there. To fully comprehend the vocal capability of young Coco you just have to listen yourself, with influences from the likes of Dre, Cole Porter,Lee Perry and Bowie, Coco seems to only be scratching at the surface of her true musical aptitude. Whether it’s the light hearted song of the bands namesake or the soulful echoes of control, Sumners proves she can stand out from the crowd for all the right reason. Releasing her latest single Caesar, which also features Robyn (a bad choice for a partnership in my opinion). Coco sets to liberate her sultry tones upon the musical public this month. Although I am not a big fan of this song I still believe it is difficult to suffocate a talent such as Miss Sumner's, plus I can always hit the mute button and just lap up Eliot in all her finery.

I Blame Coco feat. Robyn - Caesar

I BLÅME COCO | MySpace Music Videos

The snow

I may never sleep when she rests her gargantuan self upon the ground,
That brash canvas of innocence taunts and teases the darkest of demons from deep within.
Confident in her angelic being, she suffocates me into a state of sheer asphyxiation with the birth of each unnerving thought.
Yet still she smiles, whispering her deceiving bell like tone as I loiter in a selfless limbo tiptoeing somewhere between slumber and consciousness.
Do I dare to dance with Lucifer himself when such a godlike creature enraptures me in her evangelical presence?
As each guilty thought overlaps the next I feel I shall surely die from the weight burdening my chest,
Yet just as I feel I can take it no more, her grip begins to loosen from around my neck.
With the lift of each wintry finger my mind becomes lighter and I begin to feel the warm cradle of normality lift me to its bosom.
And as the comforting flickers of dawn break upon her icy back, my head falls to rest into a peaceful slumber.
Goodbye dear maiden, your time has come.

Tuesday, 5 January 2010


So today for one reason or another I ended up in Barbican,as I am fairly new to the Big Smoke, Barbican was a first for me so i did what any unabashed tourist would do, and took shitty novice pictures.

Monday, 4 January 2010

I like to watch you dance

One to watch

Look out for the Size Issue shoot in this months V magazine on sale January 14th.


Sunday, 3 January 2010

Grab it while its Hot!

So Rodarte aren’t exactly the new kids on the block, the Californian duo have been casting their magic upon the female form since 2005 and since then have been lapped up by the fashion savvy for all their worth. Stocked globally by over 40 universal retailers including Dover Street Market and Harvey Nichols plus numerous publication appearances and with an impressive celebrity client list under their belt they are certainly placing their stamp upon the fashion world. However up until now there collections have only been made available to women, yet for a limited time the  talented twosome have created a small male collection for Opening Ceremony. Perfectly combing the pastiche and draping skills the duo are notorious for, each piece showcases their spectacular use of macramé and web knitting giving us one hell of a label lust. 

Rodarte for Opening Ceremony

Creamy Crack


Bombay mix and pork weeners

So the festive period is rather wearily standing upon its last legs held up by empty New Year’s resolutions and a quiet anticipation of the year that will follow. Christmas on my behalf was an overwhelming surge of canine excursions, failing attempts to capture lost traditions and an overdose of Bombay mix and those little pork sausage things wrapped up in bacon. Home and its rural setting offered a welcome break from London and the hellhole of full time employment plus the realisation that my once baby brother was no longer as young as I thought, proven perfectly by the gaggle of teenage girls that regularly accumulated at our front door. With enough make up on to push Bette Midler overboard and skirts so short that I felt like their gynaecologist it was an abrupt reminder that times were achanging. So enough bullshit and instead a rather half hearted welcome to the New Year and p.s Summer can you like hurry the fuck up please? I’m somewhat over freezing my ass off.




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