In Memoriam: Armistice day. A sombre post.

Today, on a crisp Winter morning I attended the Armistice ceremony at Guy's Hospital Campus in London Bridge. The service was held at the Guy's Memorial Arch (pictured above). Two minutes silence was preceded by a short sermon and brief prayer, ending with the traditional refrain 'we shall not forget'. Of course we do, which makes the brief yearly effort more important. There was a reasonable attendance, although greater numbers could have made the effort. A trumpeter led us into the two minutes silence with The Last Post and over the comparative stillness, distant bells from local churches, and a strange echo from Southwark Cathedral could be heard. Apparently at one point the service was threatened by the attentions of an errant Dachsund, but fortunately the hound was restrained.



I can understand why pacifists should regard such ceremonies with suspicion but also feel that a bit more consideration of what Armistice Day is really about might lead to greater understanding. The first world war was a greedy stupid conflict but the war dead were fighting for what they percieved as their families, for friendship and a way of life. I include my own great grandfather here and can barely imagine what his loss would have meant to his children and widow in a working class Newcastle district when there was barely any official social support. You can appreciate the bravery of both voluntary and involuntary soldiers in conflicts one might consider foolish or misguided. As for the second world war, those who grow furious about the BNP, climate change and world economics forget about the world order they came very close to inheriting. As a historian by education, the past is full of 'near misses', the defeat of Hitler was one such and only deflected by the efforts of determined and resilient people all over the world.

Despite being a pacifist, against the war in Iraq and irritated by the swagger of some foolish wannabe officers I seem to run into, I felt attending the service was a privilege. Currently I know a few people in the armed forces, some who have seen active service recently and all are intelligent, sensitive individuals. I just hope that by this time next year there are not too many more names on the memorials.

the search for weapons of mass seduction...

Or more specifically what seems to be a particularly tricky item: the liquid eyeliner. I expect any male readers have switched off now. But remember, Christmas approaches and these make particularly useful stocking fillers for chapettes. Being fearless, a couple of weeks ago Redlegs decided to brave the Helmand Province of cosmetic halls: Selfridges. There I tried on just about every eyeliner I could find. Fearing the effect this might have on my delicate eyelids I resorted to long elegant strokes on the side of my hand. By the end of the hour I looked like some strange rarefied demon with hands covered in black strokes. To be devious I made an effort to paint stripes in alphabetical order.

I was driven to this action by my disappointment with Mac's eyeliner which I bought on a whim, presuming it would be as wonderful as their matt red lippy. Alas it let me down as it was not easy to apply. I found that my bargain basement variety Bourjois was good but had a limited shelf life and determined that perhaps, as with plastic surgeons and underwear, the best approach would be to move up-market.

My criteria were:

1) Type of brush

2) Ease of application

3) Lack of that bane of both eyeliners and mascara: clagginess.

Some were deeply disappointing, but my top 3 (out of 22 ladies!) were at

3: Illamasqua. This went on very smoothly, was very black and I liked the sales staff, or rather they liked me. The severe bob and bright red lips probably squealed that I would wear the colourful stuff that is their particular selling point. They are known as 'Goth Grabbers'. The only thing that let this one down was that the brush, although decent quality was far too thin for producing classic retro flicks. It would however be good for rococo flourishes.

2: Guerlain. This had a brush you could have used to paint a nice Watercolour of , oh I don't know, Morecombe Bay at dawn. The consistency was thin but it was very easy to apply, one or two coats gave a rich very professional 50's model with elephants look. I also liked the grey shade: Anthracite. But that might be because I liked the name, Anthracite, if I have children, especially twins I would be tempted to name them Anthracite and Lucite. I like Guerlain, lovely packaging, and their Gentian perfume is nice.

1: Dior. This was my number one for a variety of reasons. I liked the fact that the decent medium to large felt like brush was affixed to the barrel carrying the liner. I find the pot system inconvenient. In addition they have utilised the click system used for Touch Eclat which means you control the amount of gunk on the brush tip. Like the Guerlain it required two layers but provided a lovely flick and a good colour. Additionally the staff were cheery, if rather curious about my thoroughness in choosing my liner. They also gave me a free mascara, which was nice of them.

Notes: Curious place the cosmetic hall, I like the way the staff eye people up, it's a jungle. I have been there recently looking nondescript and been almost completely ignored. Carefully applied pillar box red lipstick however prompts lots of engagement. Some companies simply don't appeal, I had a terrible reaction once to some clinique stuff, my gentleman friend of the time bought it because he liked the 'ladies in nurses uniforms' (their eyeliner was in the 'ok' range). But I like flamboyant packaging, pots and potions should be little packets of glamour. Yet it works, this clinical approach, for She Uemura. I failed to try their eyeliner because their staff were thin on the ground, which is a shame because their stuff is top notch. They were very busy with their eyelash bar, something I understand as putting false eyelashes on is one of those irritating almost sisyphan task that is only justified by a special occassion. The only people who could possibly do it quickly are drag queens, showgirls and the vain. Although I did hear a disturbing report that 20% of Shu Uemura's customers are now gentlemen...

Enchanted Ed Wood some photographs by Red Legs...

Halloween at the Fox...

A few choice pictures for Halloween, not naming names .. they know who they are! The Fox in Shoreditch looked suitably Autumnal. Full of bits of twig and leafiness, I had visions of Fleur heading to her local park wearing a burglar's mask and wielding seccateurs.  I was informed that the exuberant English country side adorning the window ledges was actually sourced from the...English countryside. There were also naturally jack-o-lanterns and other such things and the Tim Burton Ed Wood Biopic was shwing on the noctovision.  The bar staff looked very elegant in rather severe black cocktail dresses and the treats for early birds were absinthe toffee apples and jellies which I suspect were alcoholic. Well Torquil Arbuthnot was eating one despite the beard vs jelly dilemma.  The cocktails were themed but Red Legs stuck to cranberry juice, vodka and bubbly.

The vintagey crowd meant that there were rather a lot of spiv/40's and 50's stuff, the lindy hop crowd not being known for their imaginative approach to clothing. Exceptions included Lost Soul and his splendid fez, a rather convincing dead pin-up, some voodoo loungers of the old school and a gentleman of the steampunk persuasion who was doing beastly things to a stuffed rabbit. The rabbit got its own back in the loos when its tormentor had to negotiate the rabbit and a long apron in order to relieve himself. Not that I was in the gents loos...for once.

Music wise there was some traditional stuff at the beginning, Addams family theme and such like which is essential. The band, the Sax Pastilles played two storming sets but really orientated to the jivers and lindy-hoppers, and the energetic amongst those. I must admit though I really hankered for some Siouxsie and Sisters, is this the first Halloween I have had without hearing 'This Corrosion'?

The performances were popular, or rather sounded popular, the popularity of the event meant that unless you were quick you couldn't get into see the acts due to the enthusiastic crowd but it is a new club and the organisers will be able to gauge things really well next time. Didn't worry me in the least apart from missing Rose Thorne's performance, proper cabaret burlesque with dramatic verve and wit.  Naked ladies and tassels are a bit passe IMO, but cabaret never loses it's appeal. We did catch Emerald Fontaine walking on the bar with a snake.  The serpent in question seemed quite cheerful, but one of my friends was not so impressed, convinced that it had it's snakey eyes on her! and to be honest maybe it did.

All in all a good evening, made by the efforts of the stirling organisers but most of all by the friendliness of the crowd.  Pleasant clubbable people is the thing most hard to find at night in London.  People don't have to be uber stylish, trendy, every word an aphorism as long as they are pleasant and interesting and yes, just a bit insane.  The next event has a 'hula' theme so expect grass skirts and hawaii shirts to take over Shoreditch! 

National Liberal Club.

Went for dinner at the National Liberal Club on Friday with the Baron of Bermondsey and his friends the mysteriously named 'Badger Club'. I have been to quite a few of London's Gentlemens Clubs and this was one of the most 'clubbable' I have been to. The place strikes you first due to the lovely airy dimensions coupled with the typical dark wood fittings and the not so typical tiling on the walls and columns. This Anglofied Orientalism takes one back immediately to the clubs Victorian heyday. Sadly the place is much reduced in size and the library book stock sold due to some past financial impasse. However there is no intimation of this, unlike a few other nameless clubs that have a rather threadbare desperate feel to them. Perhaps it is because the raucous Savage club lurks, a club within a club, deep within. I suspect however that the fact it is based on a liberal foundation, is somewhat closer to the heart of London than it's Mayfair cousins and lets women in has led to a subtext of eccentric bohemianism.

We had drinks in the room above then decamped to a rather grand traditional dining room, for equally traditional, and by club standards, very good food.  The staff were friendly and the impression was that the clientele were regular, rather than people from the Home Counties treating callow godsons to a special night out.

Another advantage was that the place has a spectacular terrace overlooking the Thames, and as the bearded one was keen to point out, his own holy grail: a billiards room. All in all I was quite impressed. The National Liberal Club is quietly showy, that is with the exception of a rather flamboyant marble curvaceous stair case at it's heart. 

Halloween

Red legs displays her continuing weakness for lurid nylon wigs, on another halloween, on another continent.

The Chap in the middle is donning the kind of outfit I would personally like to see on Saturday!

It seems that year by year Londons options for Halloween have improved, for years only the Goth subculture provided partys with style and panache. Indeed they still do, the London Vampyre Groups Christmas party at the Penderel Oak in Holborn will be a paradigmatic Goth Halloween party. The guests will be dressed to the nines, easy if you do it on a daily basis and with some elements of steam punk which seems to have replaced cyber fetish as the Goth splinter group du jour. Anything that encourages the donning of brass goggles can't be a bad thing. The music will also be superb. Sadly I cannot make it but details of the 'Silent Night-Rest in Pieces Party can be found at:http://www.londonvampyregroup.co.uk/

Returning to Halloween, Red Legs will be attending 'The Enchanted Wood Party' co-hosted by the redoubtable Fleur de Guerre, tickets are I suspect, as rare as a Vampire at a Beach party but details can be found here:http://www.thefoxpresents.com/ This is rather more appropriate for the vintage crew although yours truely will be going for the trashy approach, £8.99 nylon wig from Sainsburys, classy. We also have guest list places for Bungalow 8's do although I suspect the effort of getting from Shoreditch to St Martin's Lane will defeat us.

For those who have not lost the will to live after a night of apple-bobbing and chocolate bats, on Sunday the Glitter room will be happening at the Black Sheep pub in Croydon, details here:http://vonbourbon.com/blog/?p=3836. The champion of Chap Hop, Mr B the Gentleman Rymer will be playing so well worth a trip into deepest South London.

I am well aware that the likelihood is that no one will be reading this, but then again there is something about typing into nowhere, words dissapearing like ectoplasm....

The first disturbing line..

The first line of anything is a disturbing thing to have to write. There, I have done it, no less disturbed though. This blog is titled 'red legs' because I have a thing for red tights...and a tendency to wear them in Soho. I will use this blog to review, chew over and opine on matters relating to life in London, or nightlife in London. Probably with a vintage slant, because let's face it, mod cons, democratic freedoms and the right to watch reality television aside; modern life is crap. They did it all so much better in the thirties.

Hopefully I won't offend anyone and potentially I might be helpful. This isn't my first blog, I have been involved in others, usually as part of a team. This is designed to give me something to do on those long late nights when I am forced to earn my daily shilling.