Throwback to the time we ventured East on the Victoria Line to Walthamstow and stumbled across this frozen-in-time pie and mash shop – unchanged since 1929. From the gleaming white tiles to the wooden booths, it was in pristine condition. Pie, mash and eel shops have been in London since the 19th century and you can still find them – there’s one on Broadway Market, and closer to home, Hoxton Market. I’ve tried a vegetarian pie and it was quite decent, although I have no love for liquor – a watery parsley gravy that used to be made from the water eels were cooked in…
Time flies when you’re having fun… Today I unearthed these photos from last summer, when I had a massive moth tattoo etched on my thigh by Fredrik Reinel at The Circle, London. My favourite parts are the pointillism style cubes and the antenna daggers.
Adventures in brand land – agency Wolff Olins’ have hives on the roof of their Kings Cross studio here in London. I found this sweet, short video which explains how they came to be. (Pardon the pun.)
There’s an old wives tale that you should tell your bees about births, deaths, and marriages…
I spotted this little laundromat on Whitmore Rd, Hoxton, while out walking around our neighbourhood. It’s been closed for nearly five years, but not a thing has changed since the day the door shut. Aside from some saggy ceiling panel stalactites and newly formed mountains of dust, that is.
First thought: Would love one of those retro blue dryers… Second thought: This would make a good bar…
An early riser spotted in Hoxton this afternoon, just before sunset. A brave little fellow (or fellow-ess?), the fox didn’t blink at any of the passersby. Likewise, they didn’t see him either, wrapped up in their own little worlds of late-for-work, what-should-I-buy, head-phones-on. It’s good to breathe deeply, take things slowly and see some nature in the city.
Last September, news got out the God’s Own Junkyard, artist Chris Bracey’s shrine to all things illuminated, was being closed after developers purchased the site. Cue hordes of people, including myself, high tailing it to Walthamstow to see the collection before it was dismantled. Thankfully, a new home has been found for God’s Own Junkyard – resurrection!
Here are some snaps of our visit to the original site (on its last weekend), a feast of glorious, blinding neon:
I do like stretching the legs and going for a good walk – rain or shine. So on a Sunday afternoon, despite the questionable weather. Thom, Laura and I decided to do the ‘Flask to Flask’ walk across Hampstead Heath. It’s simple – start at the Flask pub in Highgate Village (which is adorable – leafy streets, hills) and amble across the heath until you reach the Hampstead-side Flask. (The creation of your very own Brontë-style name as you wander up and down dale is optional – I went for Emilie Constance Beaumont, Laura went for Elizabeth Ann Kensington Darby.)
At the start, enjoy a beer or two, in the middle admire the nesting swans, say hi to the dogs, and at the end, if you end up on Flask Walk – there is a sweet little gelateria. I rewarded myself with a scoop of peanut and one of salted caramel gelato for £2.60 – yum. Luckily for us the sun did come out, and we celebrated by having an impromptu picnic next to the Hampstead ponds.
77 Highgate West Hill, London N6 6BU
14 Flask Walk, London NW3 1HE