Global EyeEm Adventure

Last weekend saw the online and offline worlds come together under the most utopian of circumstances, in the shape of the Global EyeEm Adventure. Indeed, on November 1st, the mobile photo app - which I’m sure you’ll recall me bigging up a bunch of times before - challenged their burgeoning band of followers to capture the most photogenic spots across the globe, meet-up style. Having been a keen advocate of EyeEm's vision since hitting upon the startup in Berlin this year, it was with open arms that I accepted their kind request to host the London leg of the worldwide event. 

Photography lovin' folk were beckoned to connect out of life 2.0 and meet a likeminded line-up of lovely people in our respective cities, from Tel Aviv, to New York, to Kuala Lumpur. Together, these relaxed independent affairs amounted to an impressive large-scale effort, with designated EyeEm albums offering an insight into the event's international engagement.  

For the London edition, I decided - after quite the deliberation -  upon the city's multifaceted East End. An obvious choice, ya might surmise, but there is so much more to the Shoreditch area than the hipster stereotype it's become synonymous with. As we determined during the course of my lil route (which lasted about 2.5 hours), the E1 ends are an absolute melting pot of characters, cultures and curiosities. And, within a somewhat limited timescale, I felt it an ideal patch to shoot a decent dose of diverse images; there's a pretty high concentration of marvels in a not-too-vast space. 

After convening outside the overground station, I gave my camera-bearing crew a petite briefing, and armed them with stickers to spread some EyeEm love on our travels. The group was made up of totally distinct characters, from all walks of life, bridged through a mutual appreciation of photography and a fancy to capture some of London's most photogenic facets. This diversity also lent a freshness to the end results, with identical scenarios captured in totally idiosyncratic styles. Throughout the afternoon, we grew to be an endearing unconventional family, content and creatively elevated in each other's company. See: the virtual and the real ain't so antithetical after all.  

*See also: 1 // 2 // 3*

On Fridays, we wear hats

Boring as I might appear, there aren’t many occasions where I’m willing to revise my (arguably predictable) look; all the more so when it comes to my flowery head region. Saying that, when this Friday’s #HATSONLY event hopped onto my radar, an exception was of course gonna be made - especially considering some of my favourite, stylistically sound gents were the honourable hosts. Housed in Dalston’s Pelicans and Parrots - part gem for vintage wares, part underground rum bar - the latest ‘House Partea’ from long-time creative inspirations Nigel Ruwende, La Touche and their band of equally adept bros was the ultimate proof that “cool” (interpret as you wish) and pretentious needn’t be synonymous - nuh uh, not one bit. What I’ve always rated about these first-rate fellas is their unflappable, passionate work ethic and creative, fashion-oriented souls - fused with an impeccable affability that ya don’t just find on the fly. Friday’s knees-up was a total testament to their well earned admiration, with a bursting-at-the-seams guest list made up of some of the sweetest, most stylish characters you could muster.

The music provided by House of Alt was spot on (a tuneaftertuneaftertuneaftertune affair), the rum bar rustled up first-rate beverages (the white rum and coconut water concoction - damn), the company was faultless. And the hats! The hats. Unsurprisingly, the headwear was more than marvellous, with each guest tweaking the “no hats no entry” dress code to their own fashion flavour, some even sporting Halloween-style witchy numbers (’twas the season, after all). My initial hat-induced quandary was swiftly solved by a simple, wide-rimmed black headpiece from - whisper it - H&M, customised with my signature rose. While certainly not the most practical get-up in a hot, heaving basement, it nicely accommodated my oversized noggin and enabled me to retain the flower; tick tick. 

Refreshingly, the venue’s distinct lighting absence prevented shooting the night’s activities on my trusty DSLR, as I’m so disposed to doing. Lack of blogpost visuals aside, this - surprisingly, in my case - welcome lil move proved pretty blissful. Because, while photos sure are a neat means of capturing special moments and fashioning a memorable optical narrative of them, sometimes you’ve gotta embrace the blackout and just live it, in all its realness. Even if you are a self-confessed photo nerd like me. Yep, there’s a time and a place for everything, and in the ‘House Partea' context, amid all the elevating energy, it was next-level nice to totally switch off and get the most out of what was a truly exceptional eve. 
Hats off.

Since you’ve scrolled this far, why not check out some of the guys’ praiseworthy pursuits?

• Saint & Birchley (Mr Ruwende’s bespoke apron business) 
• Hat About Town (La Touche's hat appreciatin' blog)
• Nigel Ruwende Tumblr (just turned 5)
• Individualism (the guys’ acclaimed online men's style collective)
• House of Alt (music maestros and all-round creative collective)

* bedroom photos courtesy of siblet, thanks darl.

Hint o' Halloween

This Monday, in anticipation of Friday's hair-raisin' happenings,  my not-so-fearsome flatmates and I prepped and presented a humble Halloween evening with the lovely lot that live a few doors down from us. The sartorial interpretations of the night's "black tie with a hint of Halloween" theme were varied and impressive, ranging from my burgundy-lipped look with día de los muertos style maxi, to a stunning star-embellished ensemble from a certain Lucy Iron. 

Our cute crib was transformed into a veritable haunted house, comprising of carefully draped cobwebs (apologies Mr Beckham), bloody prosthetic hands and dislodged - jelly - eyeballs. The sinister scene was even accompanied by a bunch of good (almost) clean games, including the old school mummy wrap contest and guest-specific clandestine challenges. 

Gastronomy-wise, we went for a simple but seasonal starter of ghoulish guacamole and creepy crudités, presented very much in keeping with the night's overriding vibe. These were followed up by a not-so-novelty main of chicken rollatini with spinach alla parmigiana (piri piri smoked mackerel for pesky pescetarian me), served with new potatoes and a splendiferous side salad. For the formidable - in both senses of the word - finale, strawberries were served up with a ghost-shaped white chocolate coating, as well as gold-spritzed mini pumpkin pies, handmade by Miss Amy SW. 

Suffice it to say that we all had a bloody (ha) brilliant eve, spent with the finest folk I coulda wished for. Indeed, if Monday night's events were any indication of the memory makin' to come, this final uni year's gonna be far from gruesome.

Fri-YAY

In celebration of that fine Friday feelin', set your ears on this sweet audible indulgence from Mr Gregory Porter, radiantly remixed by French mixing master 20syl. TGIF to you too.

Home is where your sh*t is

Another month, another dwelling to call (viz. make) my own. Against the backdrop of my quasi-nomadic existence of late, it's been quite the novelty being able to unpack for a slightly more extended period than has been customary to me over the past year or so. Further, with my nerdy disposition to design, I always revel in the opportunity to put my own lil stamp on fresh, blank spaces. So I'm doing just that. While very much an in-progress pursuit, I'm quite haps with the petite progression being made with my latest lovely lodging: here's a peek to date.

This week I'm lovin'

Though pretty Duz is somewhat limited when it comes to quality coffee independents, their few and far between presence makes high-grade caffeine haunts all the more cherished within the lil Durham bubble. Flat White is one such - if not the - gem, sourcing their beans from local artisan roastery Ouseburn Coffee. Conveniently (or perhaps dangerously) located en route to uni every morning, the sought-after spot has been mollycoddling me through the rather disorientating return to academic life with their first-class flat whites. Clue's in the name. 

Miso obsessed

As I somewhat begrudgingly accept the decreasing temps with the dawn of autumn/winter, the staple summer salads I've been reaching for over the past couple of months just don't quite satisfy. Enter the need for a spot of internal heating in gastronomic form. But, while conventional comfort foods are the ultimate kinda comfort (duh) during this crisp weather phase, fast-paced schedules and short lunch periods - whether at school, uni, work or otherwise - often make heavy midday meals a touch inconvenient when it comes to swerving sluggishness and preserving productivity throughout the afternoon. 

Happily, though, I seem to have found the perfect compromise: hello, miso soup. Don't get me wrong, I haven't just discovered this magical little superfood, but a certain miso delivery service has stirred up a freshly found fancy for the Asian soybean-derived paste. As the name divulges, Miso Tasty provides super flavoursome fare and sends it straight to your door. Honestly, you'd be hard pressed to find something not to love about this humble UK-born brand; the country's first dedicated miso company, as it happens. Having recently been introduced to Miso Tasty, I am now an out-and-out convert to miso home delivery - can't say I saw that coming. 

While on face value this might all sound rather exorbitant - I'm still a prudent student after all - if you break it down it amounts to less than £1 per serving; more keenly priced than ya might think. Delivered in bento style boxes of eight, the pastes come in both 'Classic' and 'Spicy Aka' varieties, all accompanied by petite packets of umami, spring onion and wakame seaweed. They're light in both senses of the word, making the sachets a handy and portable go-to at any time of day; all you need is a kettle and a vessel. Being as well-seasoned as they are, the pastes even work as a spice-infused stock or spread. And, crucially for my (petty) proclivity for packaging, the brand's design and tone is both friendly and inviting. I'm in.

Beach please

It's not so grim up north. While the post-Berlin blues are yet to dissipate (they won't), it would be pretty inaccurate to say I haven't also relished being back on native turf. After an all too fleeting London return, I headed north-east to catch up with the much missed Geordie fam and enter my final year of unay. First stop? Childhood playground and now Nanna's actual back garden, beautiful Whitburn beach. 

Excuse the cobbled-together nature of the little vlog above (not my finest), but I thought it would be nice to capture the spirit of our Sunday stroll in a more animated - albeit rather haphazard -  manner. Along with some more serene stills, naturally.