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kalluun-patangaroa · 5 years

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Suede

SKY magazine, December 1993

written by Simon Witter

"HELLO! WHAT HAVE WE GOT HERE?!" asks Brett Anderson rhetorically, staring at the fluff he has just removed from his ear. "I haven't taken these earrings off for about nine years."

It may seem an incongruous moment to ask the 27-year-old indie pin-up about his personal style, but hey, that's the kind of guy I am. "Tatty," replies Brett with a wry smile. "I haven't been able to get out and go shopping."

Brett Anderson, frontman of Suede – the British pop sensation of 93 – is hotly rumoured to have a great dress sense. Today however, perched uncomfortably behind an executive desk at the central London HQ of his record company, his head inadvertently framed by a halo of Right Said Fred promotional balloons, he is sporting a navy blue jeans'n'top ensemble he accurately describes as "just anything". Brett has been telling me how he spends most of his time with people who work in shops or are unemployed – "real people, not in the business" – so I presume this boutique bonding provides a clue to his supposed, though temporarily non-evident, style savvy.

"Oh no," he gasps. "Not clothes shops! Most of my friends are in food shops. So I know a good bit of brie when I see it."

The thought of Brett Anderson having, at any point in his life, ever eaten food, conjures images of pigs flapping their trotters as they sail past this second floor window. But we press on with the personal style enquiry.

"I want to change it at the moment," he says. "I'm sick of wearing second-hand things. I used to have a grudge against new clothes because I don't like wearing things that another thousand people are wearing. It's nothing to do with being into clothes from years ago, or tatty clothes at all. I'm quite keen to toy around with my style until I eventually find something, to have clothes made for me. There's never anything, when I go out and look for clothes, that I really love. I've got quite a strong vision of what I want, which would be very, very well fitted things. I don't like baggy things. I like lots of ethnic looks. I really like the Spanish look, that sort of matador thing." By way of explanation, Brett strikes a pose, clicking imaginary castanets above his head. "I like that shape. Prince wears a really brilliant little thing sometimes. When I kept getting my bellybutton out, it was really a desire to achieve that shape more than anything, nothing to do with flaunting my navel."

It's well worth flashing your bellybutton while you still can, I assure him, a rueful hand on my own expanding waistline.

"Yep," he smiles. "Well I can't anymore. Not after that chinese last night."

In May of 1992 Suede released their first single, 'The Drowners'. They had already been on the cover of Melody Maker – before they had a record out – and would grace 18 other British magazine covers over the next year, including the cover of Q on just their second single. Their eponymous debut album, released last March, went straight to No. One in the charts and went on to win the Mercury Prize, and last autumn they released a full-length concert video Love & Poison. At this rate, it will be time for their memoirs by easter.

Within the bizarre, incestuous fishbowl of the British music media, Suede have become almost self-damagingly important. After a couple of wilderness years spent faffing about, finding their feet and being universally loathed, their overnight transformation into the most hyped band in the world was nothing short of miraculous. Yet it created impossibly high expectations of their music. A German friend told me how surprised he was, after long distance exposure to their media glare, to discover how average Suede sounded – a judgment that casual discovery of the first album would hardly have elicited. And while touring America, their support act the Cranberries famously outshone them by an enormous factor when it came to album sales. Yet phase one of Suede's career has been – or appeared to be – so extraordinary, that they are going to be hard-pressed to follow it up with anything similarly momentous.

For now, we have 'Stay Together', a new, epically long single. As a measure of Suede's magnitude in the reality-starved world of British indie pop, I am treated to an absurd preview of the track the day before meeting Brett. Before entering the listening room I am subjected to a bag search to check – I kid you not! – that I'm not carrying a concealed tape recorder.

In LA, the world capital of muso control freakism, I was played U2's Desire, the immediate-follow up to their 15-million selling Joshua Tree album, eons before its release without anyone thinking twice. Yet now, without a hint of humour or irony, I am being treated as if I not only know anyone who cares what the next Suede single sounds like, but would be willing to pay for a tape of it recorded through a leather bag.

After regaining consciousness, I join in the fiasco, insist on a full body search (well, at less reputable establishments you'd have to pay good money for this touchy-feely experience) and am seated. The label boss places two speakers on each side of my head, facing my ears from about 20" away, turns it up LOUD, and begins to do that embarrassing, pseudo appreciative in-chair grooving that only people who work in record companies and recording studios have the gall to indulge in. "It's not pompous," he assures me, "even though it's eight minutes long."

Of course any pop song – as opposed to dance record – that lasts eight minutes is by definition pompous. 'Bohemian Rhapsody' was gloriously, defiantly pompous with a side order of pomposity to go. But, despite the circumstances, 'Stay Together' sounds like a fine, many-hued song, liberally doused with Bernard Butler's life-saving guitar, that is destined neither to win many new fans nor shock the devotees.

"It's about a sense of unrest I feel about the world," Brett tells me the following day, in an ill-advised shot at an explanation. "An attempt to make some sense when everything seems to be going slightly insane. I do get a real sense of impending doom, but not in a depressing way, not like we're all gonna die, let's go and rape people. I feel quite content with it. We're living under some shadow, and I'm not quite sure what it is. It's a bit like the fears I felt when I was growing up, when things were unstable and there was the threat of nuclear war, or the fear that your parents could die of aerosol poisoning."

Brett grew up, together with Suede drummer Mat Osman, in the soulless satellite town of Haywards Heath, between London and Brighton. According to Osman, if they'd been the tea party fops people make them out to be, they would've formed a grunge band. They only wanted to be really glamorous because of their stultifyingly dull working class backgrounds. Some might say that that would lead to the three-Es-a-night, dance-and-forget syndrome, rather than the formation of a glam rock band.

"Hopefully we're not a glam rock band," Brett shudders defensively. "You can escape those surroundings by taking a load of Es and ignoring it. Another way is to create your own myth, to try and become romantic in your own eyes, to create something beautiful out of the rubbish and the shit. It all sounds very Oscar Wilde, but that's the way we did it. None of us were brought up in workhouses, but we haven't had easy lives at all."

Suede claim to be obsessed with fame because they were excluded from it. Yet surely fame is the one classless thing people aren't born into?

"Lots of people are constantly privileged," says Brett, who has clearly spent an unhealthy amount of time pondering the abstract qualities of fame. "If you're born in Soho to rich professional parents, and you've got Jonathan Wotsisname coming round to your house every night to see your father, then you've got this world that you slip easily into. When you're excluded from it there's a desperation, you're desperate to have it. It doesn't come as second nature to you, like professionally famous people who hang out in Beverly Hills. It's not something you're comfortable with, but that mutates it into something far more interesting, a bit prickly and far more creative, because you're not just sitting there lapping it up."

Suede's appearance coincided not unfortunately with the post-Madchester 70s revival. But was their styling something more than just the result of being unable to afford new clothes? Personally, I had thought the emergence of Gary Numan had killed off the idea of anyone ever again wanting to be David Bowie (not to mention Bowie's recent records). Then along came Suede, with their rough guitars, their androgyny and their theatrical singer.

"I never thought of ourselves as '70s," Brett insists. "David Bowie is a genius, but the rest of all that rubbish I always found laughable. As for the clothes, I always thought we looked more 60s than 70s. It's all tied up with this whole kitsch thing, this Magpie and Porridge and rediscovering the culture of British music journalists' youths. Kids of 14 didn't know what anyone was talking about, it was just that the people in power had reached a certain age where they were getting sentimental about their youth and started remembering Magpie. That's all it was, all a complete load of rubbish. As soon as we were aware that this scene was going on, we wanted nothing to do with it."

Brett's voice is a highly variable instrument, perfect and beautiful on slow numbers like 'The Next Life', but occasionally, when he affects that archly operatic Bowie yodel, a whiney, sneering sound like Rik Mayall on speed boring into your brain – absolutely maddening. It goes without saying that his delivery owes much to the most overrated British pop star of the last decade, Morrissey.

"I forced my voice in that way because of how we were born, musically, playing shitholes. It was the only way I could make myself heard. I didn't want to sing in the murmuring way that was the style of the time. I wanted to project my voice, because I was writing songs that I wanted people to hear the words of. I wasn't just writing about fluffy little clouds, which is what everyone was doing at the time. People read into my intonations a theatrical seventiesness, but it was a complete accident."

Overworked as the subject is, it's hard to avoid asking why Brett thinks his androgyny caused such a fuss. It's not the first time it has been done; it's not even the tenth time. Genderless, mincing fops are to classic British pop what hairspray is to American rock, a staple ingredient. Brett, by comparison to most, is pretty tame.

"I don't know," he sighs. "We certainly weren't thinking 'oh let's be androgynous', it's just the way we are. I'm naturally quite an effeminate person – not all the time, I do play on things. I think it was because, at the time, people were so incredibly boring. We had been through five years of the cult of non-personality, and we never wanted to go with the flow. When everyone had their heads down, chugging away, we wanted to twist things a little bit. It's like at school, when you find that something annoys someone, you keep on doing it more and more. And that's what happened really."

A female psychologist wrote recently about the overt sexual expression of pre-pubertal girls at pop concerts, the way in which, amidst the non-contact hysteria of the pop experience, they could sometimes experience their first orgasm. She was, admittedly, talking about a Take That show, but I can't help wondering if it looks like that from the stage to Brett Anderson?

"No, nothing like that," he purrs, "nothing sexual. I always feel like people are putting it on."

Having their first fake orgasm?

"It's a bizarre thing in my head. I know they really like me, but I can't really take it seriously. When I'm onstage, and it's working, I feel like I can do absolutely anything. I feel as though there's no limit, even in the sense that I could fall asleep if I felt like it, because I'm that relaxed. I feel much more comfortable on stage than walking down the street. I could go off into a corner and do a crossword or shave my head. I feel ridiculously relaxed. I really enjoy the power of being onstage. It's to do with the circuit of the flow between the audience and you, when it's an audience willing you to be good. Your own power is an expression of how the audience is feeling, but I can't say I ever feel sexual, even if it looks that way. I think that to call the power purely sexual is to belittle it. When I've been to incredible gigs, it hasn't been a sexual thing, it has been something far more magical than that. "

Brett and Osman came to London in the mid 80s to study, respectively, architecture and politics at UCL and LSE. Suede began after they placed an ad in the NME in 1989, but initial concerts had audiences shouting "Fuck off!", critics calling them effete wankers and record companies running for the hills - a three-pronged invitation to eat shit and die that would have spelt the end for most bands.

"That X factor that made people despise us," muses Brett, "was something we managed to turn around in our favour. It's like being in love with someone, and exactly the same things you adore about them, completely horrify you when you've fallen out of love. We went away and learnt how to write songs, and came back transformed. And those qualities that originally pissed people off, we transformed into something provocative. I think the fact that we went through all that rubbish was a fucking good thing for us. People forget that the Beatles spent five years in Hamburg. No one would touch them in England, cos everyone thought they were an utter load of shit. They spent five years getting it together, suffering a bit and fighting for it."

A typical lyric from those hard years was Brett's line about "shitting paracetomol on the escalator". When they were recently described as chemically saturated, I had assumed more interesting chemicals were involved.

"That's about pure mundanity, being off your face every night and your staple diet coming from your bathroom cabinet. It's a metaphor for a humdrum life, going up and down the London underground, which I spent five years of my life doing."

In many ways this – Suede's poignant soundtracking of new depression Britain – is their strength. But if they are Her Majesty's equivalent of slackers, it hasn't made America any more amenable to their cause. Indeed, despite Brett's avowed loathing of the British character – "negativity, small-mindedness, lack of faith" – there may well be a Britishness about Suede which prevents America from getting the point.

Brett makes the mistake of quoting a Smiths song to me – something about innocence, fragility and trust – forcing me to point out that American audiences don't want to be trusted with something precious, they want to rock out with their cocks out. Evan Dando may wear a dress and pigtails, but the wider American market is notoriously unkeen on sexual ambiguity. Queen were big in America until the early 80s, when Freddie Mercury started appearing in full clone gear. They never toured America again, and didn't have a single hit until after his death (and then only thanks to Wayne's World). In fact, America's association of guitars and manliness make Suede fundamentally unsuited.

"No!" storms Brett. "I don't think we're fundamentally unmanly. All you have to do is come and watch us live. We're about sexuality, power and emotion, things that everybody feels."

Whether or not America is destined to fall for his Morrissey-meets-Larry Grayson stage persona, Brett's much-aired desire to move to America (and less well-known plan to live in Paris) has, for now, been replaced by a much smaller act of bedouinism.

"I've moved from Notting Hill to Highgate," he announces proudly, "from a fashionable place to a place where you're living in the last century pretty much. I was living in a very small flat in Notting Hill and it was driving me insane, I couldn't write and was being bombarded with nonsense all day long. I needed the peace and quiet, and now I have a bigger flat with a studio room in it and I'm writing quite prolifically. It's more serene, there's more space to think. It's quite a beautiful place, but you do feel like you're living in the last century, like you're some sort of oddity, or in a play. You keep going into these odd characters. But it's a great place."

In person, and despite the affectation of much of his thought processes, Brett Anderson is quite charming. An endearing smile – which seems to hibernate when cameras are around – plays constantly around his face, suggesting shared confidences which, to some extent, he delivers. Like so many people cocooned by over-protective minions, he is refreshingly open and approachable. I like him. But he is deeply shocked and incredulous when I paint a picture of the special treatment afforded him by those he works with.

"They treat me with the respect I deserve," he jokes defensively. "I don't have tea with Lenny Kravitz. My best friend works in a chip shop, and that's why I like it, it's a complete escape. One of the beautiful things about being successful is that it can rub off onto your friends as well. Not fame and all that bullshit – the really brilliant thing about being successful is the self-confidence, the sense of life having a purpose, that life is a wonderful thing. You open the shutters in the morning and the sunshine pours through. That sense of vitality about life can completely rub off on your friends. Sometimes it doesn't, it can go the other way, with friends ignoring you cos they think you don't have time for them, but that never happens with your proper friends."

And yet, engulfed in the sweltering perversity of his peer group, Brett has come to hold some pretty crap views, views that seem utterly irrelevant beyond the borders of saddo indie land. He worries about being thought a sell-out, thinks Suede are radically honest because they admit to having ambition – as if people didn't get over all that bollocks a decade ago – and, worst of all, that people don't talk enough about music in interviews. Oh dear!

But, despite all this, Brett's public image remains unshatterably cool. He exudes waves of sultry, sulky hipness. I feel an urge to know what naff items lurk in the corners of Chateau Anderson, his ownership of which will shock Suede devotees to the core. Brett tells me he's been to see Aladdin, listens to jazz music, likes The Orb and Verve and has just bought the new Shamen single. To prove it, he even does his Mr C impression - "Comin' on like a vibe, y'know!". This won't do at all.

"I like Terence Trent D'Arby," he admits, trying harder. "I think he's really good."

It's good, but it's not right.

"I bought Billy Joel's River Of Dreams album. I like that one."

Aha – as Inspector Clouseau used to say – now we are getting somewhere! What about films?

"No, I've got impeccable taste when it comes to films."

No feature length On The Buses video stashed chez Brett?

"No. I have got Crocodile Dundee."

Bingo and Bullseye! So much for impeccable taste.

"Well, my perennial favourite is Performance," he flusters wildly. "I can virtually quote the whole film from start to finish. And there's a brilliant film which I've just discovered called The Shout, with John Hurt, Alan Bates and Susanna York. It's about a man who has spent years in the Australian bush learning the secrets of the bush doctors coming to this ridiculously reserved Cornish village and turning two people's lives upside down. It's like an animal alive within this village, and when he shouts, everyone within a mile radius dies. If Alan Bates' part had been played by Vincent Price, it would've been laughable, but it's incredibly powerful, one of those great lost films."

It's a nice try, but nothing can erase the impression created by Billy Joel and Crocodile Dundee.

#suede #brett anderson #press #interview #sky #1993

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moverevolutionestateagents · 5 years

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Amy & Sarah from Polished Kitchen Design

We are delighted to introduce Amy & Sarah from POLISHED KITCHEN DESIGN …

Sarah & Amy from POLISHED KITCHEN DESIGN

We (Nici Jordan – Move Revolution’s Marketing Director & Mathew Gurr – Area Sales Manager for Haywards Heath Lindfield & Burgess Hill) thoroughly enjoyed meeting Amy & Sarah for a coffee (and natter) at our favourite Lindfield Coffee Works. We wanted to share with you who they are, all things ‘POLISHED KITCHEN DESIGN’ and so much more! Both Amy & Sarah have really interesting backgrounds – when you have a read you will understand their immense creativity, eye for detail – and why they care so much about delivering outstanding work for their clients!

Nici, Sarah, Amy & Mathew loving Lindfield Coffee Works

Tell us all about how (and why) you have started POLISHED KITCHEN DESIGN…

Amy: I was a PR Director for a large cosmetics company in London for 15 years but had lost my zest for it. After doing renovations on our last 2 properties I wanted to follow my passion and try a career in interior design, so I took the plunge and left my job in the city. After completing an Interior Design course I was lucky enough to be offered a kitchen designer role in a local independent design studio who had actually designed and supplied my own kitchen 3 years previously which is when Sarah and I first met. I jumped at the chance as I loved the process of designing my own kitchen alongside Sarah. I think it was fate that we ended up working together!

Sarah: I started off my career working for a medical company but quickly felt it was the right career path for me. I’d always had a passion for Interior Design so signed myself up for an Interior Design course at KLC Design college in Chelsea. Whilst I was studying I took on various work experience role with local designers which led me to a local kitchen design company. Soon after working in kitchen design I knew it was the right fit for me I’ve never looked back. Having worked in the industry for 9 years I still have as much passion and enjoyment from my job as I did when I started. Having worked with Amy over the years, we found we really complimented each others working style and it very naturally became apparent we would make great business partners. After many glasses of wine, cups of tea and far too many biscuits we came up with the idea of launching our own business venture – Polished Kitchen Designs. We have been blown away by the support and enthusiasm we have received so far and are excited to see what’s in store beyond our first year.

Given you both love of all things ‘creative’ who or what is your main design inspiration?

Amy: In my previous career we worked with a lot of fashion designers such as YSL, Stella MCartney, Marc Jacobs and Chloe so it’s always been something I have been interested in. I love how trends span across fashion and interiors and playing with using things like accessories and colour to update a look. I’m a big believer in a classic style that never dates but incorporating more trend led ideas that can bring things bang up to date but that are also easily changed when you fancy a change. I’ve always loved Cole & Son wallpapers and have used them in most of my personal projects over the years.

Sarah: We are both fans of Farrow & Ball, they always have such a tempting palette of paint colours to choose from and they are Eco friendly too. Personal favourites are Setting Plaster which is part of the new nude trend, Off Black which my kitchen is painted in and they can’t be beaten for their gorgeous palette of greys…over the years we have used Blackened, Purbeck Stone, Elephants Breath and Downpipe…the list goes on!

For affordable, stylish furniture and accessories Made.com really is a go to for me – I always find items I love and their clean and simple designs mean they compliment any style. They also have some great lighting options and many of our clients have sourced their island lighting from here. For me it’s an added bonus that they support independent designers all around the world.

The explosion of social media also means there are some amazing influencers out there who have some great style inspiration spanning across fashion and interiors.

Here are a few we love on Instagram :

Erica Davies

The Frugality

Rockett St George

Come down to the woods

Pink House Living

In your opinion what is the key design trend of 2019?

Amy: Industrial, edgy style kitchens with lots of different textures– thing sleek and contemporary with a mix of metallics, wood, dark hues and a contrasting colour to make it all pop. Don’t get too caught up in matching your metallics as mixing these can be effective and create more interest visually rather than getting too matchy matchy!

We love this Second Nature 1909 kitchen which is a stunning example of making a traditional in-frame shaker kitchen more industrial and on trend with the addition of industrial black handles and on trend colours.

Sarah: Statement colours are not going anywhere. Don’t be afraid to be bold – dark greens, blues and even black add drama and style to a kitchen, don’t forget you can soften these colours with a touch of warmer hues such as cashmere and blush nudes. The addition of a light worktop will help to bounce the light around your space and always remember flooring plays an important part of your colour palette. A good tip is to get samples and create your own moodboard which will bring your entire concept together.

Tell us about POLISHED KITCHEN DESIGN .. what makes you different!

If you go to our website you will see out mission statement on our homepage which is:

Our passion and motivation is to design and install your dream kitchen, providing all the experience and inspiration you would get from an independent kitchen design studio – without the showroom price tag.

Our main aim when we started Polished Kitchen Designs was to make the independent kitchen design experience accessible to a wider customer base. We found that many people didn’t want to buy a kitchen from one of the ‘big sheds’ and felt underwhelmed by the product and service on offer. We also had many comments that they either felt intimidated by the smaller independent studios or that they thought they wouldn’t have anything to suit smaller budgets. By not having our own studio we can offer the same quality product and service but without the showroom price tag. We’ve priced jobs recently which have come very close to Howdens prices, we are confident our product and personalised service is far superior so clients are getting a lot more for their money. We like nothing more than popping back to see our clients and their beautiful completed projects for a cup of tea (we’ll bring the cake!) and natter. The process can take on average 4- 6 months (sometimes even longer if builders are involved!) from start to finish and in that time we build really good relationships with our clients so we have mixed emotions when our projects finish and it’s time to say goodbye.

If you are looking for a new kitchen we are in no doubt this will definitely have tempted you to give Amy and Sarah a call! Just go to their website www.polishedkitchendesigns.co.uk or send them an email [email protected]

As you can probably tell we loved meeting up with Amy & Sarah – we are passionate about local, independent businesses (just like Move Revolution) who are focused on delivering expertise and exceptional client service … watch this space for more blogs from Amy & Sarah over the coming months.

We couldn’t end this blog without saying a huge thank you to James Bolton, one of our incredible Move Revolution Professional Photographers. We pride ourselves on outstanding photography, and this is just a small example of what it is like to work with a professional!

If you are thinking of selling or letting your home we would love the opportunity to chat with you about our service… you too will have wonderful photographs taken of your home!

BOOK A VALUATION TODAY!

We have offices throughout Surrey, Sussex and Kent, just call 0330 223 1000 so that we can put you through to exactly the right office for you. If you are thinking of moving in the Haywards Heath, Lindfield or Burgess Hill Area, Mathew and his team would love to chat with you, just call 01444 657 657

We’d love you to follow us on Facebook!

The post Amy & Sarah from Polished Kitchen Design appeared first on Move Revolution.

from Move Revolution https://www.moverevolution.com/blog/amy-sarah-from-polished-kitchen-design/

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alexisbush-blog1 · 5 years

Text

Amy & Sarah from Polished Kitchen Designs

We are delighted to introduce Amy & Sarah from POLISHED KITCHEN DESIGNS …

Sarah & Amy from POLISHED KITCHEN DESIGN

Nici, Sarah, Amy & Mathew loving Lindfield Coffee Works

Tell us all about how (and why) you have started POLISHED KITCHEN DESIGN…

Sarah: I started off my career working for a medical company but quickly felt it wasn’t the right career path for me. I’d always had a passion for Interior Design so signed myself up for an Interior Design course at KLC Design college in Chelsea. Whilst I was studying I took on various work experience roles with local designers which led me to a local kitchen design company. Soon after working in kitchen design I knew it was the right fit for me and I’ve never looked back. Having worked in the industry for 9 years I still have as much passion and enjoyment from my job as I did when I started. Having worked with Amy over the years, we found we really complimented each others working style and it very naturally became apparent we would make great business partners. After many glasses of wine, cups of tea and far too many biscuits we came up with the idea of launching our own business venture – Polished Kitchen Designs. We have been blown away by the support and enthusiasm we have received so far and are excited to see what’s in store beyond our first year.

Given you both love of all things ‘creative’ who or what is your main design inspiration?

The explosion of social media also means there are some amazing influencers out there who have some great style inspiration spanning across fashion and interiors.

Here are a few we love on Instagram :

Erica Davies

The Frugality

Rockett St George

Come down to the woods

Pink House Living

In your opinion what is the key design trend of 2019?

Amy: Industrial, edgy style kitchens with lots of different textures– think sleek and contemporary with a mix of metallics, wood, dark hues and a contrasting colour to make it all pop. Don’t get too caught up in matching your metallics as mixing these can be effective and create more interest visually rather than getting too matchy matchy!

Tell us about POLISHED KITCHEN DESIGNS… what makes you different!

If you go to our website you will see our mission statement on our homepage which is:

“Our passion and motivation is to design and install your dream kitchen, providing all the experience and inspiration you would get from an independent kitchen design studio – without the showroom price tag.”

If you are thinking of selling or letting your home we would love the opportunity to chat with you about our service… you too will have wonderful photographs taken of your home!

BOOK A VALUATION TODAY!

We’d love you to follow us on Facebook!

source of this post came from Alexis Bush Blog https://www.moverevolution.com/blog/amy-sarah-from-polished-kitchen-design/

#Alexis Bush Blog

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regigigina · 5 years

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Public Transportation Part.1

I would describe my younger self as adventurous. I liked to live life dangerously you know, like ordering spaghetti marinara while wearing a white shirt, then washing my white and dark coloured laundry in one load. Most memorably, I indulged in that adrenaline rush of almost missing my rides - be it by coach, train, even aeroplane.

In the early days of my freshman year in Southampton I barely had one close friend, so I took an absolute delight in going on weekend trips to London to see my old friends. They were the friends I met during my preparatory year in Cambridge, and London was perfectly situated halfway between us. I would take the train from Southampton Central and disembark at the trains’ terminus, London Waterloo or Victoria.

Our meeting point in London would usually be some museum I want to visit. I never ceased to be in awe with the British Museum permanent collection, replete with Italian renaissance and Egyptian mummy display. I never cared much for Victoria & Albert Museum design oriented inventory, but gosh, the marvelous Gamble Room inside is perhaps the most stunning room to have an afternoon tea in.

On entry to the cafe, one will pass a magnificent marble fireplace standing in between two archways, facing intricately carved Ionic columns and beyond them, a curved wall adorned with ornate stained-glass windows. The entirety of the wall is laminated with red-hued ceramic mosaics and golden metal plates. The pièce de résistance, however, is the sparkling orb chandeliers which sets the whole place ablaze with opulence.

Other times we would be frugal and head for the usual Turkish kebab place in Bayswater which my friend said, unlike its neighbours, had not learnt of inflation for the last three years. Or when homesickness hits, we thought it wise to queue an hour long for the famous, always so jam-packed Peking duck place (which shall go unnamed here because you will see in a bit). Their roast duck pancakes were so good, even the plate banging service and the bills, which were always served before asked (rude!), did not lose them their loyal customers. Anyway, rumour has it that the original chef eventually defected to a fancier Chinese restaurant - I kid you not - in Bayswater, just a couple blocks away from our kebab place.

They were also the friends who introduced me to such whimsical cuisines as Duck & Waffle, as in literally duck confit on top of a waffle, Polpo, an Italian establishment serving their food Spanish tapas style, and my all time favourite (drumroll, please...) Belgo Centraal, which serves moules-frites any way you could imagine it: classic, Provençal, to Thai or Indian-style (too adventurous) in an underground dining space one could reach only by descending a prison style industrial lift - that or a drab flight of stairs.

London with my friends was like a city full of paper wrapped gifts, each weekend unwrapping a few to show the little marvels inside. I never spend enough time with them and certainly not looking forward to going home. At the end of the day though we would go our separate ways, most of them to Cambridge by way of King’s Cross Station, and myself to Victoria Station to catch the 23:00 train to Southampton, and not a single train earlier.

One weekend, I had to go home on the Saturday whilst my friends stayed over until the next day. Since they were not in a hurry to catch any train that night, gone was my natural cue to leave. Can’t say I remember where we were that evening, but positively a good distance away from Victoria Station. It was half past ten when I finally admitted to myself that I need to take off. We said goodbye and I rushed to the tube station.

”I could get there in 18 minutes,” I reckon, resigning myself at this moment, because there was nothing I could do to make the tube trains go faster.

A brief background here, train tickets in the UK can be issued as open return passes valid for 28 days, or as day return passes for a lower price. The National Express coach (bus) fares are even more affordable. Once I journeyed twenty-hour long from Southampton, which as the name imply, lies on the very south coast of England, to Inverness in Scotland, the town nearest to Loch Ness, for a mere £20. But I usually avoid the coach whenever economically possible because I tend to get carsick, the coach ride takes longer, and the service terminates in London in a decrepit station.

Now that day I was holding a day return ticket, and being late for the last train would not be a prudent option. I was indifferent between indulging in a cab ride to Victoria and missing the last train, since they probably cost about the same. Worst case scenario, I take the cab and still manage to miss the train anyway, then that would cost me twice as much. So there I was ten minutes before my train departs, minding the gap out from the tube train and into the crowded platform. I hurried through a gate and to a long flight of stairs, then paced briskly along the endless tunnel, until an escalator gave way to the vestibule of Victoria Station.

“Yes! I have five minutes left!”

But Victoria is by no means a small station. To save time, I bolted to the south-bound section at once while my eyes searched the announcement board for my train’s platform. The appropriate expression to describe my haste would be to run like the wind; but really I was wearing ankle boots with heels and carrying two bags that kept pounding my back and each other, and judging by the sound of it I was running more like a horse than wind.

“Platform 5! Double check, yes, platform 5 Southern service calling at Clapham Junction, East Croydon, etc. etc. etc... and Southampton, that’s the one!” I read.

I dashed to platform 5, hopped on the train and seized the nearest seat just as the train doors closed behind me, the whistle sounded and off the train went, first slowly then swift and steady. Six minutes into the ride, the train stops at Clapham Junction for ten minutes. I was still out of breath from scurrying around the station and had not stopped breaking a sweat. I calmed down after a while and noticed that the seats were only sporadically taken, so I relocated to a quieter spot. By the time the train left East Croydon, I was already quietly giggling by myself, replaying in my head some funny jokes my friends had told me earlier.

The train announcement went as per usual, “This is a Southern service to Brighton, calling at Gatwick Airport, Haywards Heath, Burgess Hill, and Brighton, where this service will terminate.”

My eyes opened wide and I looked up. Come again?!

I was convinced I got on the right train - I double checked it. Did my eyes deceive me? I could not make sense of it and went dizzy for half a second. I waited for the announcement to repeat itself.

“This is a Southern service to Brighton, calling at Gatwick Airport, Haywards Heath, Burgess Hill, and Brighton, where this service will terminate.”

“Oh no no no, not good. Did I just get on the wrong last train?! What if I wind up in Brighton - where will I stay the night? Do I wait at Brighton station until it’s open tomorrow morning? That doesn’t sound safe. Do I know anyone in Brighton - I do, actually. But it’s almost midnight, it would be rude to knock on their doors - assuming they are still awake, that is! Shiiiiit.

Maybe I should alight at Gatwick, airports are suppose to be open 24 hours, right? But how will I get home, take the morning train? Ugh, I really don’t feel like spending the night at the airport, it’s not like that film ‘Night at The Museum’. Taking the cab to Southampton would perhaps cost me around £100 - rididulous!”

Only days later did I figure out what exactly transpired that night. Basically two train companies service the London-Southampton route: the pricey South West which runs services from Waterloo, and the cheaper Southern from Victoria. The Southern service stops at a great many small stations along the south coast, increasing journey time to 2 hours. As a student, however, I preferred to redeem 40 minutes of my time for a £10 worth of saving, unless South West was having their occasional discounts, matching their prices with Southern’s.

Now from London, Southern normally runs two distinct services to Brighton and Southampton, never shared, not as far as I knew anyway. Both trains stops at Clapham Junction, East Croydon and Gatwick, but then diverge to their respective terminus. That Saturday night the Southern service to Southampton did not run, presumably due to some disruption, whose announcement I must have missed. Instead, courtesy of Southern, I was supposed to take the Brighton train and transfer to the South West service to Southampton at Clapham Junction. At Clapham Junction. Where I was still catching my breath.

Back in the train, incognizant of these facts, I was hit by a surge of panic. I rose from my seat and frantically searched for the ticket inspector. I found her soon enough, in her customary white shirt / black vest uniform and holding the electronic ticket machine, standing by the train doors in the next carriage, and asked her whether I had boarded the wrong train. In all likelihood, she must have explained things as I understood it later, but at the time all I grasped was that I should have switched trains at Clapham Junction, and I did not. She offered the best solution was to disembark at Gatwick and take the National Express coach, the last service being at 1 a.m.

“Great. This looks like it’s going to be a long night,” I resigned.

It was half past midnight when the train reached Gatwick Airport, I thanked the inspector and she gave me a knowing look, a mix between pity and I-have-seen-many-like-you-before. I made my way into the terminal building and traipsed a never-ending corridor to the coach station. By the time I got there my soles started hurting. The place was desolate; brightly illuminated by the orange tinged street lamps but still, silent as a grave, save for the hum of aeroplanes and the occasional sirens. Not a single person was present, neither was the coach.

I inspected the timetable, “Last coach... Arriving at 1:00 a.m., departing 1:10.”

I sat down on the cold, perforated metal bench, contemplating if I should purchase the ticket online and save some money. But getting on the coach without a printed out ticket is a risky stance, some drivers would not let a passenger board by showing only their phone screen. I figured I had not enough luck left for a wager that night, and better pay the driver in cash. I dipped into my wallet to prepare the exact amount for the coach fare and - blimey! There was no cash in my wallet, not a single penny!

I was convinced I had at least two tenners with me - if I spend it on something earlier that day I could not remember what. I grew resentful of the circumstances and pain started creeping up my neck. I really wished I had been on the right train right now, dozing off on my way to Southampton. I took a peek at my phone - 00:51 a.m., I had ten minutes to find cash.

I scrambled into the terminal building, my bags again pounding at my back and each other, and now the pain on my soles was unbearable. My eyes searched for maps, directions, officers, anything, anyone to ask where the ATM is, but there were only a handful of other passengers traversing the building with their wheeled luggages - I did not suppose they could be informative at all.

I took my chances and went whichever way my feet took me. As it is in such critical moments, the nearest ATM just happened to be located way on the far side of the building. I inserted my bank card into the machine, took the money, and checked the time: 00:58. Have you ever felt despaired and energized at the same time? I did a quick calculation in my head.

“Seven minutes to get here, seven minutes back to the coach station. Minus time spent looking for the ATM and taking money, let’s say six... So, I will make it at 01:04. If my feet can do it. If my phone tells the same time as the driver’s!”

I concluded it was no time to gamble, so I took off the damned boots, freed my feet, grabbed both boots by the left hand, and sprinted back to the coach station as fast as I could. All eyes on me, I did realise, but not care. I was only concerned with going home that night. Just as I exited the terminal building, a patrol officer in her hi-vis jacket stopped in her tracks, chuckled, bewildered by my barefootedness. The coach had arrived, stationed next to the bench where I had sat, its engine rattling and passenger door ajar, although no one was getting in or out. Thank goodness the driver was so punctual, he did not leave before 1:10!

I climbed onto the coach and paid my fare in cash. The driver too, was amused by my lack of footwear. Now that I was confident I had dodged a sleepover in the airport, I did find it slightly comical. I was too hammered to put my shoes back on, I placed them on the floor next to my feet and rested my eyes. Minutes passed, but I could not fall asleep and grew impatient. I guessed I might as well catch up with some reading until I get carsick. I carefully removed my laptop out of its bag, but as I did, something else fell out onto my lap.

They were banknotes, three ten-pound notes.

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lindyhunt · 6 years

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from Move Revolution http://www.moverevolution.com/blog/matchmaking-since-2009/

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