Big Apple Brits - British Expats Community in New York City - Brit Blogs

Mary Kate Olsen takes a peek at some nudes...at the New York Academy of Art bash...

2011-10-18T10:31:00.000-07:00

The annual Take Home a Nude bash run by the New York Academy of Art was all a buzz last night at Sotheby's as the diminutive Mary Kate Olsen tip toed in - past a weird picket line of Teamsters, (who i'm guessing were venting their rage at upper east siders being out on a Monday night in their natural habitat of, oh... the upper east side....)

The event, as usual, was a high octane spin through a few galleries of art pieces up for auction. Armed with a pencil, a cocktail and a credit card to burn, it's funny how the bidding seemed to escalate as the countdown to each gallery room closure was yelled across the mic by the weirdly gimp masked master of ceremonies.

Padma Lakshmi took a turn around the room, as did Harpers editor Glenda Bailey and the ever frothy Robert Verdi (sans signature shades on his head...pourquoi?).

Sadly the closest I got to phsyically taking home a nude was peering at a haunting photo of an Ipanema beach scene...once I'd figured out I could probably fly there and take the same photo myself for less money, the item had been snapped up by someone else.

In terms of fashion, we saw beautiful Erikson Beamon statement necklaces, new Prada pumps with this seasons heel...appropriately in nude, (as sported by my blog buddy Photos From a Stylist). As well as some bizarre fascinator flower head gear that seemed to be missing the point that the wearer was neither a) Kate Middleton nor b) at the Kentucky Derby.

As for me? My Adrienne Landau marabou feather gilet got it's fair share of papparazzo attention, so it had to be hastily retired and packed off back to it's Stepford gilded cage, for fear of it catching fright and taking flight into the nippy New York air.

For more Notes from a Stylist click here....

Join us for our 9th Brit meetup birthday and upcoming events....

2011-10-03T04:37:00.001-07:00

Hey there....

Happy NYC Autumn!

Yes, the British Expat meetup group will be celebrating its 9th Anniversary, this year.

So, to celebrate we have a fantastic Birthday party arranged for THIS Wednesday, 5th October at Slatterys Midtown Pub (8 E. 36th St, btwn Madison & 5th) from 7pm.

We will supply the cake, balloons and will be holding a special birthday raffle.

$5 suggested donation includes cake, special birthday BAB shot and raffle tickets!

We have the party room upstairs booked for us, so come upstairs and look out for the union jack flag.

We look forward to celebrating with you all!

RSVP @ Meetup or Facebook
http://www.meetup.com/NYC-British-Expats/events/26322571/
http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=219850898070672

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Next Events....

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3RD FRIDAYS
Friday, 21st Oct @ 6pm
Stone Creek Lounge
140 E. 27th (btwn 3rd & Lex.)

Come out for our regular monthly event for Happy Hour, great Brit tunes and more....

Big Apple Brits LLC is an official NYC fundraising representative for The Royal British Legion.

We will have remembrance day poppy's available for donations. Wear your poppy with pride. All proceeds go directly back to the charity.

RSVP To All Events Here!
http://www.meetup.com/NYC-British-Expats/
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REMEMBRANCE DAY FUNDRAISER
Wednesday, 2nd November @ 7pm
Downstairs @ Klimat
77 E. 7th (btwn 1st & 2nd)

Come out for a great night to raise funds for The Royal British Legion. All donations and proceeds from the raffle will be donated.

$5 entry includes drinks specials, nibbles, raffle tickets and live music for a great fundraising event. Poppy's will still be available for further donations.

Click here for last years photos!

All proceeds from this event go directly to the charity.

RSVP To All Events Here!
http://www.meetup.com/NYC-British-Expats/

We have many more great events coming up in 2011, see you soon!

Sincerely,

The Big Apple Brits Team
Big Apple Brits

Email: info@bigapplebrits.com
Web: http://www.bigapplebrits.com

Posted via email from Big Apple Brits - British Expats, Anglophiles and Brit Culture Lovers New York City

Citi and American Airlines Launch new MasterCard in Style

2011-09-27T11:05:00.000-07:00

If you're looking to launch a new MasterCard in the current economy, let's face it, you better either have some damn good incentives, or a super hot launch party complete with requisite celeb stylists and rock stars. Funnily enough, just last night, Citi and American Airlines managed to pull that off all under the stunning backdrop of Grand Central Station in New York, where they've brought The Admirals Club lounge to Vanderbilt Hall

Commuters were drawn to peek in at the buzzy atmosphere as Gavin DeGraw belted out his hit 'Not Over You', and whilst this Stylist was swooning over her new musical crush, she also managed to sneak in a quick free 'messy up-do' by celeb stylists Joel Warren and Edward Tricomi of Warren Tricomi fame.

After a little banter with the boys about their own rock band adventures, the latest on the New York club scene, and some advice on creating my 'up-do' at home in 5 minutes with a curling iron....yeah right...it was time to pay attention to Citi's Terry O'Neil.

So here's the gig The Citi Executive/AAdvantage World Elite MasterCard hands you a bunch of member privileges as well as let's you spend money - what's not to like?

There's Admirals Club membership privileges, no foreign transaction fees on purchases, enhanced airport experiences like priority check in and pre-boarding, as well as waived baggage charges for your first domestic checked bag. Quite frankly they had me at 'priority check in'...but Gavin DeGraw did probably swing it for them on the night.

Clearly Terry O'Neil must have seen a few airport lounges in his time, so when asked which is his favorite globally he plumped for JFK.

As for the style on the night? Apart from Messrs. Warren & Tricomi who belie their years and ooze effortless style, we saw this seasons polka dots in dresses and pumps and the most gorgeous vintage booties amongst the city suits.

The Admirals Club lounge is at Vanderbilt Hall until Wednesday, opening daily at 11.30am, so pop on in on your commute home.

For more info on the card take a peek here...

For more from Notes from a Stylist have a nose here...

Fashion Trend Alert for Spring/Summer 12...Orange!

2011-09-13T09:26:00.000-07:00

Jenny Packham S/S12

As the old fashion adage goes: 'And three's a trend' - if you've been investing in orange this summer then you've already nailed one of next Summer's brights. You can't sit through a fash week show at Mercedes-Benz fashion week in New York without that citrus hue jumping out at you.

Callula Lillibelle S/S12

Carlos Miele S/S 12

Jenny Packham S/S12

Today, from polka dots at Callula Lillibelle, to draped gowns at Carlos Miele through to orange sparkles at Jenny Packham - if it ain't orange it ain't hip. Get your Tom Ford sunnies on and start working it.

Carlos Miele goldfish print skirt : S/S12

With that in mind, I'm hot footing it to my local mall as soon as the week is over to see what I can snag in the last call sales...

For more New York Fashion Week news take a peek at the Notes from a Stylist blog here

Song of the Day: Some Velvet Morning - "Don't Think"

2011-09-13T08:39:00.000-07:00

Today we bring to you "Don't Think," the latest song from UK band Some Velvet Morning. I fell in love with these guys the moment I first heard their album Silence Will Kill You when I happened upon it sometime in 2008. Click the handy widget below and check out "Don't Think" which will be released on October 24 and can be pre-ordered HERE. I personally can't wait for more. If you haven't checked these guys out, give them a listen. You might just find yourself hooked.

Don't Think by Some Velvet Morning

For more quirky ramblings, drop by Quirky NY Chick.

Notes from a Stylist's Top Tips on Surviving Sidewalk Sales

2011-07-22T12:45:00.000-07:00

Above: My spoils of war

There's not much that slows me down on the shopping front - apart from the odd dodgy wifi internet connection...which I'm sure my hubs has put into place with Cablevision - you know one of those 'I'll cross your palm with silver if you cut the wifi whenever my wife approaches an online shop site' kind of deals - but then I'm all over a good conspiracy theory a la Rupert Murdoch & News of the World.

So this week not even the 100f heat wave could stop me taking a peek at the annual Stepford sidedwalk sale frenzy. This shopping bonanza sees all sorts of malarchy from desparate teeny tiny housewives hammering on Tory Burch store fronts to satiate their desire for a good deal, to teens flash mobbing LF stores in their eagerness to snap up a boho bargain

"They just said they're not opening till 10!" said one aghast shopper who was front of line at Tory - at least the staff had the wherewithall to provide a rather cute chaise lounge for the sweating punters to avail themselves of during that horrific half hour wait. I'm sure there will be therapists all over Stepford working overtime to placate nervous breakdowns related to this four day shopathon.

The great institute that is an American sidewalk sale does come with some risks attached. So here are a couple of helpful hints for those of you mulling over the idea of heading out this weekend....

Guerilla tactics are key - keep your eyes and ears open and use stealth in your approach to each store front - it's amazing what an overheard snippet can save on the shopping front...at Scoop I overheard one assistant whisper to the other that all they had out front was last seasons tat and inside there were no mark downs...nugget of knowledge duly digested, I saved 15 minutes and skipped further down the Avenue to my next port of call.

Think jumble sale 'grab and clutch to your bosom' mentality until you've decided wether you really want/need the item you've just snatched up in front of your Lilly Pulitzer clad neighbor.

Take water with you..yes some stores start off at 9am with a bottle or two but by 9.30am they are out, (or at least the assistants have doused themselves in Poland Spring in order to keep their tempers from fraying too early on).

Flats are an essential - maybe take a few practice runs in the pair of gladiators or brogues you are planning to wear in order to cut down on wasted time at CVS hunting down blister remedies.

Don't bother going with friends - it's a solo gig - real shoppaholics don't have time to engage in witty banter about this or that as they plow through racks of clothing. You may have the chance to respond to the odd text or instagram chat whilst you're dashing to your next destination, but please, wasting time dawdling with your buddy does not win you the spoils of the day.

Get a Shopper on the Go App - a fab new app that saves you the trouble of schlepping up and down the sidewalk looking for sales - it uses a sat nav technology to direct you straight to the stores with savings to be had.

Check out Fall 11 trends before you go - there's always a bunch of pieces on sale that can act as transitional items or great knitwear from last season that will run over to next season.

Aim for accessories rather than clothing - believe me you don't want to be lining up to try things on when all hell is breaking loose inside a store.

If you're crazy enough to plan on bringing kids...let alone a buggy with bambino's in - think again. You might be able to get that pushchair over the threshold but no self respecting sidewalk sale warrior is going to let you get any further in that store lest she loses a bargain.

Lastly - always take time to espy your next investment - i've got my eye on this rather charming Stella McCartney wool cape...now if only I could figure out when the Fall sales are....

Elbow Announces North American Tour Dates

2011-06-13T12:54:00.000-07:00

Elbow will be hitting the road in the fall and they'll be making their way to NYC! They'll be at Terminal 5 on September 25. Tickets go on sale, this Friday, June 17. Doors are at 7PM and it'll cost you $32 advance/$35 dos.

See below for other dates.

September 18th:
ACL Festival, Austin, TX, U.S.A.
(On Sale Now)

September 20th:
Center Stage, Atlanta, GA, U.S.A.
(On Sale June 17th)

September 22nd:
9:30 Club, Washington, DC, U.S.A.
(On Sale June 16th)

September 25th:
Terminal 5, New York, NY, U.S.A.
(On Sale June 17th)

September 26th:
Paradise Rock Club, Boston, MA, U.S.A.
(On Sale June 18th)

September 28th:
Sound Academy, Toronto, ON, Canada
(On Sale June 18th)

October 1st:
The Greek Theatre, Los Angeles, CA, U.S.A.
(On Sale June 18th)

For more quirky ramblings, drop by Quirky NY Chick.

Paul McCartney Gives Deluxe Treatment To Two Classics

2011-05-12T00:45:00.000-07:00

Paul McCartney will release the next two reissues in the Paul McCartney Archive Collection on June 14.

Getting the deluxe treatment this time around, his solo debut McCartney. The record was originally released in April 1970. This is the album that gave us the beloved classic "Maybe I'm Amazed."

McCartney II, also gets the deluxe treatment. It was originally released in 1980 and was his solo return after Wings. It contains the catchy "Coming Up" which is etched in my pre-teen memories and insists on making me bounce oddly off-beat whenever I hear it playing.

Both reissues were remastered at Abbey Road and were supervised by McCartney. As with the previous Archive Collection reissue of Band On The Run, these will have bonus material in addition to the original remastered albums and will be available in multiple formats.

McCartney will be made available as a 2-disc (2 CD) Special Edition featuring the original remastered album plus seven bonus audio tracks including the previously unreleased outtakes “Suicide” and “Don’t Cry Baby” plus a rare live 1979 recording of “Maybe I’m Amazed”. For collectors, the reissue will also be made available as a lavishly packaged 3 disc (2 CD, 1 DVD) Deluxe Edition which includes an exclusive bonus DVD featuring rare and previously unseen footage, an extraordinary 128-page hard bound book containing many exclusive and unpublished photos by Paul and Linda McCartney, original album artwork, downloadable hi-res audio versions of the remastered album and bonus audio tracks, an illustrated history of the making of the album, and expanded track by track information for the two audio discs as well as detailed historical information on the film content.

McCartney II will also be made available as a 2-disc (2 CD) Special Edition featuring the original remastered album plus eight bonus tracks including B-Sides and alternative versions. The bonus audio CD includes the #1 hit “Coming Up (Live At Glasgow, 1979)” and holiday perennial “Wonderful Christmastime.”

The lovingly packaged 4 disc (3 CD, 1 DVD) Deluxe Edition of McCartney II not only includes an exclusive bonus DVD featuring rare and previously unseen footage (including performances of ‘Coming Up’ and the new video for the unreleased track ‘Blue Sway’) but includes an additional seven rare bonus audio tracks exclusive to this edition. Additionally, the McCartney II deluxe edition contains an extraordinary 128-page hard bound book featuring many previously unpublished photos by Linda McCartney, original album and single artwork, downloadable hi-res audio versions of the remastered album, an illustrated history of the making of the album, and expanded track by track information for all three audio discs plus detailed historical information on the film content.
For more quirky ramblings, drop by Quirky NY Chick.

Beth Jeans Houghton Signs To Mute + MP3

2011-04-27T09:51:00.000-07:00

Mute Records has announced the signing of Beth Jeans Houghton. Houghton will release her debut album this fall. She attracted media attention in the UK in 2009 with her EP Hot Toast and kind of disappeared. Now she's back and we have for you a preview of her upcoming album. See the handy widget at the bottom of the post to download the track "Dodecahedron."

The new track “Dodecahedron” showcases Beth’s extraordinary voice and off-kilter lyrics, exploding in cascades of colours and little drummer boy beats.

“The night before I wrote it I had a dream that consisted of me running up to strangers in the street and asking them what a dodecahedron was, but no one knew,” says Beth. “I later found out that the ancient Greeks believed the Dodecahedron is a symbol of the universe and represents an idealized form of divine thought. Take from that what you will.”

(click the arrow on the right to download)
Beth Jeans Houghton - Dodecahedron by Mute UK

For more quirky ramblings, drop by Quirky NY Chick.

Dave Stewart To Release The Blackbird Diaries In June

2011-04-19T12:56:00.000-07:00

Dave Stewart (producer/artist/director/Eurythmics co-founder) will release his new album, The Blackbird Diaries via Weapons of Mass Entertainment/Surfdog Records/Razor & Tie, on Tuesday, June 28. The Blackbird Diaries contains all new material, duets with Stevie Nicks (whom he'll perform with as Special Guest at Webster Hall on May 4), Martina McBride, Colbie Caillat and feaures The Secret Sisters as well as a song co-written with Bob Dylan. Check out "Magic In The Blues" at the bottom of the post in our MP3 Grab.

"This was my favorite time ever in the studio, I wrote most of the songs on the spot and recorded all of them in one incredible session lasting 5 days and nights!," explains Dave Stewart. I made an unusual film of the process that not only features all the musicians and performers but also gives away some of my writing secrets which involves both a well known fortune teller and hypnotist who allowed themselves to be filmed in session with me."

Dave Stewart's The Blackbird Diaries is unlike anything he has embarked on during his illustrious 30 year music career both with Eurythmics and as a solo artist. With an American flare and rooted in rock, country, and blues, the album is in the vein of recent releases by Bob Dylan and Neil Young - masterful recordings mixed with rich and detailed lyrics. The Blackbird Diaries showcases a very different type of songwriting for Stewart with more story-driven autobiographical lyrics, which is a departure from the pop/rock sounds which have made him one of the most successful and revered songwriters/collaborators of all time. Tales of loves conquered and loves lost, Dave gets intimate, personal with words while he allows his music to rock free on an album that might just prove to be this artist's second, and perhaps finest, act.

Track List

So Long Ago
Beast Called Fame
Magic In The Blues
All Messed Up (featuring Martina McBride)
Stevie Baby
Cheaper Than Free (featuring Stevie Nicks)
The Gypsy Girl and Me
One Way Ticket To The Moon (featuring The Secret Sisters)
Bulletproof Vest (featuring Colbie Caillat)
Worth The Waiting For
The Well
Country Wine (featuring The Secret Sisters)

MP3 Grab: "Magic In The Blues" (right click, save)

For more quirky ramblings, drop by Quirky NY Chick.

Ian Hunter To Headline Hoboken Arts & Music Festival

2011-04-19T11:19:00.000-07:00

Legendary rocker Ian Hunter will be headlining the Hoboken Arts & Music Festival in Hoboken, NJ on Sunday, May 1. Hunter & The Rant Band will take the stage at 4:30PM on the Observer Hwy Stage (btw. Newark & Observer Hwy). The Festival runs from 11AM to 6PM and takes place on Washington St. between Observer Highway to 7th St. It's FREE and will happen rain or shine!

With 3 stages of live music, over 300 artists, arts, crafts, food and more, there's sure to be something for everyone to enjoy. For more information, click HERE.

For more quirky ramblings, drop by Quirky NY Chick.

DUMBO IMPROVEMENT DISTRICT & BIG APPLE BRITS TO HOST A ROYAL WEDDING VIEWING PARTY UNDER THE ARCHWAY

2011-04-15T12:47:00.001-07:00

http://www.royalweddingnyc.com

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
April 15, 2010
Contact: Jane Kojima
Director of Communications & Marketing
718-237-8700
jane@dumbonyc.org

DUMBO IMPROVEMENT DISTRICT TO HOST A ROYAL WEDDING VIEWING PARTY UNDER THE ARCHWAY FREE and Open to the Public with Media Partner BBC America

BROOKLYN, NY — On Friday, April 29, 2011, the Dumbo Improvement District, with media partner BBC America, will celebrate the wedding of HRH Prince William of Wales and Miss Catherine Middleton with a live viewing and British-style street party under The Archway in DUMBO. The event will be FREE and open to the public.

BBC America’s commercial free coverage of the wedding will be shown from 5:30AM EST and festivities will continue throughout the day including contests and prizes for the best fancy hat and costumes for both children and adults. Dress as your favorite royal (real or imagined), don a fancy hat and commemorate it all with a snapshot from the photobooth on site. For late-risers, BBC America’s coverage will be replayed in its entirety immediately following the live coverage.

“The Archway, with its soaring barrel vaulted ceiling has a cathedral-like feeling and will be the perfect place to watch this historic event with friends, families and neighbors – and have some cheeky fun,” said Alexandria Sica, Executive Director of the Dumbo Improvement District. “Brooklyn is home to thousands of Brits, and we want to help them celebrate in style. We know that New York City has Royal Wedding fever and look forward to seeing all of our local princes and princesses, young and old, dressed up or just stopping by to check out the spectacle.”

For more up to the minute information about the Royal Wedding Viewing, visit the Dumbo Improvement District’s Facebook page – www.facebook.com/dumbo.bid.>

The free public viewing is made possible by BBC America, with support from the local DUMBO business community – Bubby’s, the DUMBO Loft, Ito En, Water Street Restaurant & Lounge and The White Gown, and in partnership with Big Apple Brits and We Love Photobooths.

About the DUMBO IMPROVEMENT DISTRICT & THE ARCHWAY

The Dumbo Improvement District is a 501(c)(3) non-profit organization dedicated to enhancing and promoting DUMBO, Brooklyn. The Improvement District showcases DUMBO as a world class destination, advocating on behalf of DUMBO’s businesses, property owners and residents. The organization provides supplemental sanitation services, marketing, economic development, neighborhood programming and long-term planning.

The Archway is a magnificent and unique public space in DUMBO, Brooklyn- a 7,000 square foot space under the Manhattan Bridge, paved with historic Belgian block roadbed and a soaring barrel vaulted ceiling. Previously a scrap metal storage area for the New York City Department of Transportation (DOT), The Archway was returned to the public in 2009. The Dumbo Improvement

District manages the space as a pedestrian thoroughfare and venue for community and cultural events.

In 2010, the Dumbo Improvement District hosted free, public viewings of the World Cup – which drew thousands of fans from Brooklyn and beyond and attracted international media attention.

Directions to THE ARCHWAY – DUMBO

F-train to York Street; exit station and turn right onto Jay Street, left of Front Street, right on Pearl Street/Anchorage Place, walk one block. A/C – trains to High Street/Brooklyn Bridge; exit at Cadman Plaza West stairwell, cross Cadman Plaza Park, pathway curves to the left. Walk downhill on Washington Street, turn right on Water Street. 2/3 – trains to Clark Street; exit the station and turn left onto Henry Street. Pass Cranberry Street and make a right on the footpath; you will see A/C train station. Cross Cadman Plaza Park, pathway curves to the left. Walk downhill on Washington Street, turn right on Water Street.

###

Jane Kojima

Director of Communications & Marketing

Dumbo Improvement District

www.dumbonyc.org

www.facebook.com/dumbo.bid

p: 718.237.8700

f: 718.237.7797

http://www.royalweddingnyc.com

Posted via email from Big Apple Brits - British Expats, Anglophiles and Brit Culture Lovers New York City

What was under Kiefer's Kilt at the Dressed to Kilt Gala?

2011-04-06T08:38:00.000-07:00

Just in case you weren't aware, we are in the midst of Tartan Week (March 29th-April 10th), and as part of the celebrations the Annual Dressed to Kilt Gala was held last night at the Hammerstein Ballroom right here in New York.

If you're wondering what's so interesting about a bit of plaid, maybe if I mentioned Kiefer Sutherland in a kilt along with Sex and The City star Chris Noth showing the crowd exactly what was under their sporran, well that might get your attention.

The event is the brainchild of Friends of Sotland with the awesome Sir Sean Connery as the Honorary Chair, resulting in big named celebrity attendance each year. This year however Sir Sean pulled out of hosting the event at the last minute leaving the organisers in a fix and worrying about his health. Apparently he is fine and on the golf course...

The idea of the big night is that you wear something tartan, or you in fact are slightly Scottish - as my buddy who attended can atest to by means of her accent and (if pushed) a Glaswegian kiss...

There's a fashion show where established designers, textile houses and aspiring designers get to show their tartan-tastic skills and of course there's a lot of scotch to be drunk.

This year Stacey Kibler took to the runway, Marcus Schenkenberg was shamefully over dressed, whilst the aforementioned Sutherland/Noth duo along with Jason Patric and a few other cast members from their current Broadway revival 'That Championship Season', certainly left their mark on the occasion.

For more info on Dressed to Kilt click here

As for me, I'm happy to say that my (this seasons) red Obi belt travelled to the occasion on the slim waist of my authentic Scottish buddy - which must make it the most well partied belt of the week considering it was only the night before that it attended the NYAA TriBeCa Ball.

Should there be any offers for personal appearances from said Obi belt for the remainder of the week please contact it's agent here...

For more Notes from a Stylist click here...

Notes from a Stylist at the TriBeCa Ball 2011

2011-04-05T15:29:00.000-07:00

You've gotta love a TriBeCa Ball, run by the New York Academy of Art, it's a chance for the great and the good of New York - i.e. those with money, to take a peek at the emerging artists from NYAA - i.e. those who are skint.

The evening tends to pass buy in a jocular manner as socialites and celebs teeter around the tiny stalls that the artists inhabit by day - which have been lovingly spruced up for the big occasion. Whilst the poor artists are thrown in at the deep end with their first forray into serious sales i.e. they want to flog their work to you.

For celeb spotting there was Eileen Guggenheim, Liev Schreiber and Naomi Watts, Baz Luhrmann and Alexandra Richards. I did see Robert DeNiro's name on the check in list but I guess he had other parts of TriBeCa to manage that night. There were a plethora of designers - Rachel Roy, Cynthia Rowley and Kate and Andy Spade. Even Serena Shvo in the tiniest gold Herve Leger dress I've ever witnessed.

So what about the actual art...

We saw oil on canvas, prints, installations - including a bizarre brillo pad sculpture that could surely have recycling value should you run short of cleaning materials once you are bored of the picture. There were magicians and a rather annoying dancing girl who was sweating proffusely and roaming the 5 storey building being trailed by an accompanist on an accordian - I'm not sure if that was art in motion or just the entertainment.

And then there was my favorite - the people watching ....

For my bit I kept the UK support group going by purchasing a cute print from the lovely Imogen Slater - a Brit striving to make her mark in New York, who had very cute shoes on...

Notes from a Stylist is currently craving Bande Des Quatres Jewelry...

2011-04-03T09:05:00.000-07:00

Not that I'm obsessed with statement rings or anything this season, but I was just penning an article for www.runningwithheels.com about the jewelry line Bande Des Quatres based in New York, and found that there were so many rings I immediately started covetting, I couldn't keep this new label for just the RWH crew.

The brainchild of designer Erin Wahed, who comes up with the concepts and then collaborates with uber chic jeweler Janis Kerman to create the brand, these babies are set to become a 'must-have' on any style savvy fashionista's fingers.

I think I'm also a little bit smitten with the photographer Hugo Arturi who took these images. Anyone who can make these stunning rings even more funky, with the art direction help of Erin and creative direction from Loris Pignoletti, has got to be worth his weight in gold.... or at least the 18Kt yellow and palladium white gold that the pieces are crafted out of.

Prices start from around $425 and are available at www.bandedesquatres.com

Springasm, Brooklyn

2011-03-22T10:14:00.001-07:00

Last Thursday four separate strangers smiled at me in the street.

The only time this happens in New York is on the first day of spring. When it's suddenly pushing 70 degrees in mid March everyone leaves their cynicism at home and hits the streets with those smiles. Mother nature sprinkling a taste of sweet spring sugar into our open and ready mouths.

It came just in time-after an endless winter where I believed I may actually be living in Russia. I was spiralling head long into a chronic and debilitating case of S.A.D. the main symptom of which was watching illegally downloaded award season movies with a fleece blanket over my head while wearing pajamas with polar bears on.

On the day when spring prematurely sprung I was in Brooklyn, so it's hard to tell if I would have got less stranger smiles if I had been in Manhattan. I was there to meet The Teenager, who's doing a once weekly internship at an independent jewelery maker in Williamsburg. It's an area I hadn't made it to until now and when I arrive I am kicking myself for not coming sooner. I get off the L train at Bedford Avenue and step out of the station. It's instant: I'm in love. Love, love, love. At first sight.

"Well hello there." I say.
The streets smile back too and we're flirt with each other straight off the bat.

I know. Williamsburg. It sounds like a bit of a New York cliche. I'm years late with this one. Does that matter? I don't think so. Don't we find people and places at the exact time we're supposed to?

I meet The Teen for lunch and we eat in the garden of Aurora. The sun comes through the trees and throws a dappled light on the courtyard. It's a bit blissful say what.

Afterwards I stroll around, get lost, people watch for a while on a stoop, get even more lost and then sit on a bench watch some locals playing basketball in the park and coo over loads of cute doggies.

I feel the sun on my cheeks, warm. This is a place I could call home. I can see myself slotting into life there and being happy. It's likely no co-incidence that the day I come here the place is bathed in it's most flattering light.

I get up to take some more pictures and have a massive Springasm.

THE Royal Wedding '11 Celebration Party in NY!

2011-03-12T20:44:00.001-08:00

Join us for the Biggest Party of the Century, So Far!

On Friday 29th April from 5am, head over to trendy DUMBO and watch the Royal Wedding between Kate Middleton & Prince William on a massive screen at the archway under the Manhattan Bridge!

Big Apple Brits is partnering with the DUMBO Improvement District to create an amazing day of celebrations. DumboNYC.org are providing the screen, a fantastic sound system and will broadcast the event Live and then repeat it in the afternoon. 100's of revelers are expected. An exciting schedule of activities are currently being finalized and will be posted here late March. The outdoor viewing & activities are completely FREE to attend.

Join us for our Big Apple Brits party at the DUMBO Lofts which will run all day and night! This cool space is across from the archway right next to all the action.

Take Advantage of our Early Bird Special Pricing upto 1st April Reserve Now!

All Day VIP Pass (9am - 1am) Only $50 | Evening Pass (8pm - 1am) Only $30

Tickets include AN "OPEN BAR" ALL DAY & NIGHT! serving Beers, Wine, Champagne, Kia Royales, Spirits, Pimms, Cider, Soft Drinks & much more. Also 10 Raffle tickets are included and Canapes will be served during the evening event.

The BAB Party includes a re-run of the day's events, video clips from past royal events, Live Music, DJ's spinning tunes across the decades, Comedians, Theatre shows and much more.....

"Like" our Facebook Fanpage - Follow us on Twitter

Watch the Royal Wedding Live New York City, NYC, USA, Brooklyn, Kate Middleton Prince William, 2011 Party Celebration Event

Posted via email from Big Apple Brits - British Expats, Anglophiles and Brit Culture Lovers New York City

THE Royal Wedding ’11 Celebration Party in NY!

2011-03-11T13:26:00.001-08:00

Join us for the biggest party of the century so far!

On Friday 29th April from 5am, head over to trendy DUMBO and watch the Royal Wedding between Kate Middleton & Prince William on a massive screen under the Manhattan Bridge!

Along with the DUMBO Improvement District http://dumbonyc.org/ we are going to create an amazing day of celebrations. They are providing the screen, a fantastic sound system and will broadcast the event Live and then repeat it in the afternoon. 100′s of revelers are expected.

The outdoor activities are completely FREE to attend.

Join us for our Big Apple Brits party at the DUMBO Lofts which will run all day and night!

This is right next to all the action and it will be an amazing day out!

BAB Royal Wedding Event – All Day VIP Pass – Only $50

BAB Royal Wedding Event – Evening Pass – Only $30

Tickets include OPEN BAR ALL DAY & NIGHT serving Beers, Wine, Champagne, Kia Royales, Spirits, Pimms & much more. Also 10 Raffle tickets are included.

Canapes will be served in the evening event.

Activities will include live music, djs spinning music from the 20th century, comedians, theatre shows, face painting and much more…..

Check out our new Facebook Fanpage Follow us on Twitter

Check out the space here…..

Watch the Royal Wedding Live New York City, NYC, USA, Brooklyn, Kate Middleton Prince William, 2011

Posted via email from Big Apple Brits - British Expats, Anglophiles and Brit Culture Lovers New York City

Taxi for Smith...

2011-03-09T11:09:00.000-08:00

I'm in a cab heading for new British bff's birthday meal.

On the seat next to me is a beautifully boxed but crap present. I am going for the theory that when cash is low, creativity or humour should prevail. Being as my latest job sucked all the energy and creativity out of me- I went for the laughs and bought her a plastic cow that shits sweets. And Moos.

The cabbie is belting down 23rd street like he's in Grand Theft Auto.

"Moooooooooo." says the cow from inside the box.

The driver looks at me suspiciously in the rear view mirror.

"Moooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo." says the cow.
"It's a present!" I say.
"Excuse me?"
"A present, the moo. It's a cow."
"What?"
"It's coming from the box. It's a plastic cow. It's moo-ing a lot. It wasn't supposed to start moo-ing until I took the tab out, but is it."

He narrows his eyes at me in the rear view mirror.

"It's PreMOOture ejaculation."

The joke falls flat on the floor, along with the rest of my oft misunderstood humour here. Is it any wonder I keep making friends with my own people?

I launch into a huge explanation. About lack of cash. About it being a joke. About it shitting sweets. Except I say "Poops Candy" so he at least gets that bit.

"I don't understand?" he says "Why a lady like you would buy such a present?"
"It's a joke."
"I still don't understand." he says
"I know you don't. It's o.k."

The taxi jerks violently as it dodges another, accelerating past the Flatiron building and swerving a kamikaze left onto 5th Avenue.

"Mooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo." says the cow.

I couldn't agree more.

*

You're not in New York now...

2011-03-09T11:02:00.000-08:00

I spend a lot of my time in New York drawing imaginary maps of the UK in the air in order to explain where Wales is.

After ten minutes of my hand flailing the usual response is "So what part of London is that in?"

Geography is not a strong suit of the average American and is it any wonder when new stats show that despite a huge rise, only 30% of citizens hold a U.S. passport?

In their defence, there is a lot going on in their homeland. If you're a Californian you don't don't even need to leave the state to ski powdery slopes, sunbathe golden beaches or see breathtaking mountains.

And if you live in NYC it's like residing in a vacuum. It's not like the rest of America, if it wasn't for George Washington in your wallet, you might forget you're even living in the U.S. There are many reasons never to leave. Stay here for too long and you become confused when people in other cities tell you they don't have 24 hour food delivery and Drag Queen bingo.

I rarely leave New York myself. Not out of choice, more out of a lack of Benjamins in my wallet (Oh freelance!). So you can only imagine my squeely joy recently when I was invited on a press trip to the Florida Keys. I threw my Hunters in the cupboard, dragged my summer clothes from under the bed and spent much time debating whether my main hot weather look should be "Out of Africa" or "Nautical meets Chanel cruise wear".

In the depths of the January sleet I left my apartment in NYC at 6 a.m. in five layers. I flew South for less than 3 hours and shed clothes on the plane as I went. By the time we reached Miami airport I had changed into flip flops, sunnies and a floaty dress. I was still in the same country but now it was 82 degrees and men were wearing Hawaiian shirts.

You know that line "You're not in New York now."? The one that always gets churned out in Rom Coms where the Louboutined heroine is forced to move to Hicksville and is astonished to discover there's no Prada and the restaurants shut at 9p.m? Well that was what was in my head. Although it barely mattered by dinnertime when I was eating fresh seafood under a palm tree.

6 days, a lot more seafood and a minor sunburn later and I came back to NYC and one of the worst snowstorms in 300 million years. 20 inches of the stuff. So thick it made the trees look like they were growing cotton.

Florida feels like it never happened. Florida didn't. It couldn't have. Except there are 182 pictures on my digital camera that say it did.

So to remind me- and extend the very last dregs of my bragging rights- here are just a few of them...

My food travelogue piece on the Florida Keys will be published in the NY Metro newspaper.

*

When is it time to drop your Mother on Facebook?

2011-03-09T10:54:00.000-08:00

This week something happens that causes a departure from my usual blog subject of being a sometimes lost, sometimes found, Welsh Alien in New York.

My mother changes her Facebook profile picture to one of her drinking a pint.

I show it to The Teenager (who I always defer to on booze related matters) and she tells me it's actually Sangria.

"But in a pint glass?" I say.
"Now you know how I feel." she says.

Hardly. My daughter refuses to be my friend on Facebook on the basis that she wants to be able to slag me off to her 565 friends. She briefly changed this rule in the summer when she went home for 6 weeks, after much begging from me. Her only communication for the entire time was to post "Your a massive Twat" on a Black and white 'arty' photo of me pissed in a L.E.S. bar. I posted back about her grammatical error and that she should remember her apostrophe 're. She dropped me soon after.

She will however, be friends with my Mother. Her 66 year old Grandmother. And she is unapologetic about her rejection of me. Whereas I personally felt it's a bit rude not to accept my Mum's FB friendship-what with the small matter of her baring me life.

Now I wonder if my own Mother is 'doing a me' and embarrassing her offspring on Facebook. Is it time for me to cut the virtual apron strings? But before I click 'remove from friends' I ponder that my Mother's very existence on a social networking site is miraculous to the point of being an evolutionary shift. 18 months ago she couldn't even write an email. Now she can post pictures online, send attachments and nag me via several new mediums. There is likely a whole new section of her brain that has developed to process this new technology and her fingertips have grown little webbed pads to protect from RSI.

She has now taken to writing me emails that quote my Twitter/Facebook/Blog. In them, she will complain about information she is hearing second hand from any given social media platform:

Subject: Rubbish daughter

Hello Darling, I see from your Twitter that you have recently *insert small, insignificant piece of news* this is nice to hear at the same time as the rest of the world. You also Facebooked that there was *insert small, insignificant piece of news*. Your Mother would like to know these things. And I read your blog, it was funny, except you didn't tell me that *insert small, insignificant piece of news*. As The Teenager would say- WTF?

Love Mum xxx

This roughly translates as:

Hello Darling. You are a bad daughter and I will make sure to spend all of your only-child inheritance on a series of luxury cruises and overpriced M&S food.

Recently, when I complained on Facebook of my Blackberry breaking my Mother wrote the following "Did you throw it against the wall, like you did with that other phone?" I deleted this comment, as it was not only defamatory, but unfortunately true. I can assure though, that my phone hurling incidents were purely restricted to cheap nokias. I would never do such a thing now. Now I have a Blackberry that I take to bed at night. And I'm 35, of course.

Facebook has become a communicative shorthand for us all. This is what my Mother's generation might fail to get. If I emailed everyone individually to tell that what was going on in my oft' bad soap opera of a life I would never leave my computer, or sleep, or eat.

I ask The Teenager's advice. I say that getting ticked off by my Mother on Facebook in front of my 200 'friends' is a bit irritating.

"It could be a lot worse", she says "At least she's not blogging or tweeting every detail of your life for everyone to see. Hmmm? MOTHER?"

And she fixes me with that cold stare she does so well.

"Oh right...yes."
"You really are such a twat Mother."
"Thanks."
"Now get out of my room."
"Love you."
"Yeah whatever, shut the door behind you."

*

Lost time, found again...

2011-03-09T10:51:00.001-08:00

In order to find yourself in New York, you gotta get lost first.

Which is good, as I have absolutely no idea where I am and it's been this way for the last two hours. My blackberry keeps telling me I am where I want to be, which is not helpful, as clearly I wouldn't be attempting to get there if I already was.

The beauty though, is that I'm having such a great time being lost I've forgotton my original endeavour of trying to find an antique jewelers in the Lower East Side. Two of the diamonds fell out of my Victorian engagement ring. It survives a century intact and after just one year on my big, clumsy hands, it's screwed.

In the time that has passed I have walked past The Cooper Union and mused how it looks a little of the Armadillo exterior of the Wales Millennium centre:

I then realise I'm not even in the LES anymore finding Fonda Lolita with it's actual VW camper van parked inside at Tacombi.

I sit down with a rib and chicken taco and ended up talking with the owner who tells me tales of setting up the same restaurant in Mexico. He'd had two successful places until bird flu killed the tourist trade. Then he started making beer and got the funding to move to the U.S. and open here. In New York everyone has a movie script-worthy back story.

I leave when it's just getting dark and the blinking neon of the 99 cents store glows large. The promise of cheap tat lures me, until I realise it's a $99 store and just sells leather jackets.

Down the block is American Apparel. The very same one that used to be deluged by hipsters on the benches outside. Today there are four hobos drinking from brown paper bags on the seats that remain and AA is hawking leotards on a rack outside for cheap. Oh the economy!

I walk around to East Houston and find an Army and Navy store being run by possibly the nicest bloke in NYC. I buy combat boots and some studded leather gloves from him and his Chinese Mum who doesn't speak any English, while he tells me he doesn't have a computer, but that customers tell him "Everyone write nice things 'bout me on internet".

I find the jewelers eventually, not by means of google maps on the Crackberry but by asking human folk the way. The woman in the store chastises me for having such a dirty ring. I avoid the obvious entendre and instead thank her and express how much of a pleasure it will be to pay hundreds of dollars to get it fixed.

I take the F train home and when waiting for it close my eyes to appreciate the Jazz trumpet player busking on the platform next to me. It's the perfect soundtrack to the day. Close my eyes, breath in the last few hours, smiling, smiling...

"WHAT THA' FUCKING FUCK MAN?" the girl sat next to me is suddenly going bonkers and flailing around. I realise it's because she was listening to her ipod and the jazz trumpeter is drowning out her music.

"'Dat's some fucking buuuuulllshit right there! Shut up man! SHUT UP! No one wanna here your fucking jaaaazz ass music."

The Trumpeter doesn't even blink. She screams, he plays Miles Davis. She screams some more, he's riffing some high notes. A guy in a suit gives him $20. The girl's still screaming. Together they sound like a hybrid alternative Jazz fusion you would hear at a downtown club.

New York makes it's own music.

Today I love the sound.

*

Head in the clouds...

2011-03-09T10:50:00.000-08:00

Aside from Cardiff and New York, I have been a permanent resident of another place: Emmaworld.

In Emmaworld, everything is sunshiny happy and unicorns frolic on rainbows made of marshmallow. There are no rules, aside from permanent positivity. Emmaworld-population: 1

In Emmaworld the move to the New York was going to be a film script. Not a sachharin rom com, but an upbeat Indie with a few minor challenges for the characters to overcome. In the end everything is cool. Turns out in the real world everything is not cool, which is good I guess, because it's must mean it's not the end.

I have recently taken forced leave of absence from Emmaworld in order to reside in the real world. In Emmaworld I have a super super spanky job and strut around in perfect buttery beige vintage boots grabbing Manhattan by the bollocks and yelling Sancerre orders at waiters after a long day conquering at large.

In Realworld I am in tracksuit bottoms on the sofa of my pricey Manhattan Storage unit-come-apartment, eating Cheerios from the box while jabbing refresh on my emails like a woman possessed. I tune into the painful sound of no phones ringing. Me and several other million Americans in the great job hunt.

Oh and I'm networking.

Oh yeah... Feel my pain. Networking. I am a Brit and more than that a down to earth Cardiff girl. I have to talk bullshit to people I don't know for work? It makes me feel a little dirty. They don't even call it bullshit here. They call it "B.S." America is so busy with the actual bullshit they don't even have time to say the word.

And then there's people not always laughing at my jokes. The reaction after I said something seemingly witty and spontaneous at a recent event went like this:

Networky person: *Silence, quizzical look*

Me: *Silence, refusing to qualify joke*

Networky person: *Silence, while working out if I'm serious or not*

Tumbleweed blows through the room.

Me: *Pause*

Networky person: *Longer pause* "Oh my god you're like... soooo funny!

Which (as my Brit friend pointed out) roughly translated means:

"Oh my god, you're like... soooo inappropriate!"

Ticket back to Emmaworld please? Or at least Cardiff...

Arctic Monkeys Announce North American Tour

2011-03-07T11:09:00.000-08:00

After over a year, the English band Arctic Monkeys will be kicking off a North American tour beginning May 17. They of course will be making a stop in our lovely city. The band will play Central Park's SummerStage on Tuesday, May 24. A full list of dates are below. Pre-sale and ticket info can be found on the bands website, HERE.

Arctic Monkeys - Alex Turner, Jamie Cook, Nick O'Malley and Matt Helders - haven’t performed in North America since criss-crossing the country in the wake of the release of Humbug, their acclaimed third album. Fans can expect to hear some eagerly awaited new material – the band posted a video preview of brand new song “Brick By Brick” on their website late last week.

Tour Dates

5/17 -- Washington, DC -- 9:30 Club
5/18 -- Philadelphia, PA -- Knitting Factory
5/19 -- Boston, MA -- House Of Blues
5/21 -- Toronto, ON -- Kool Haus
5/22 -- Montreal, QC -- L’Olympia
5/24 -- New York, NY -- SummerStage
5/26 -- Detroit, MI -- Clutch Cargoes
5/27 -- Milwaukee, WI -- The Rave
5/28 -- Minneapolis, MN -- First Ave
5/30 -- Denver, CO -- The Ogden Theatre
5/31 -- Salt Lake City, UT -- In The Venue
6/3 -- Los Angeles, CA -- Hollywood Palladium

For more quirky ramblings, drop by Quirky NY Chick.

Surviving the press pit at Marc by Marc Jacobs NY fashion week show

2011-02-18T08:29:00.000-08:00

If Mr Marc Jacobs sees fit to ask you to his Marc by Marc Jacobs show, (or at least his lovely PR folk KCD) with 4 hours notice at Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week, the correct answer is not a) oh bugger i've got no-one to look after the kids or b) but its across town and all my other shows are at the Lincoln Centre. It is in fact c) drop everything, get your kids covered and get your ass over there to snap it from the media riser/press pit where you've been invited.

And so it was that this intrepid blogger stepped foot on the hallowed ground of a Marc by Marc Jacobs show. I met the lovely Nicolette Mason of www.nicolettemason.com in the press line who appraised me of the ' grab a seat where you can' blogger philosophy to which I seem to now be a firm believer.

Once in to The Armoury with all the other battle weary press folk - mostly Asian or Italian to be fair, I squeezed myself in the front row between lovely Nylon snapper and lovely Teen Vogue with the flu snapper (from Australia - who had got out of her sick bed to cover this...see how far people go...)

After a few whispered hints as to who the actual celebs in the frontline were...so kind these press pit dudes...I had spotted Hillary Alexander for myself and also Sarah Rutson but most of the USA celebs still remain beyond my ability to fathom. It was on to the actual show.

We saw autumnal hues, silks and tweeds, patent brogues and a whole kind of mish mash of 70's kind of thinking about 40's vibe. To be fair, had I been concentrating on the clothes as opposed to whether it is indeed possible to snap a pair of shoes coming at you at a pace when your life in the press pit depends on it....(answer...a couple of shots worked...don't give up the day job then.) I would be able to give you a much more verbose rundown. For now let me leave you with the fabbo shots and I'll get back to you on the commentary.

Spring/Summer 11 Trends...Are you Team Ballet or Team Burlesque?

2011-01-26T18:32:00.000-08:00

I blame Nathalie Portman and Christina Aguilera for this one... a couple of dance movies and what do you know? Designers turn to tulle and lace with a vengeance. There hasn't been dance inspired clothing like this since The Red Shoes plie'd onto the silver screen back in the day...

I can’t figure out whether to be on Team Ballet or Team Burlesque...

The Joy Formidable Announce Spring Tour Dates

2011-01-25T17:17:00.000-08:00

Welsh band The Joy Formidable have announced US tour dates. New York is one of the cities they'll be playing. They're scheduled to be at Webster Hall on Friday, April 29 so mark your calendars. Complete list of dates are at the bottom of the post.

The band will be releasing their self-produced album The Big Roar on March 15 in the US via Canvasback/Atlantic Records. The album was released in the UK on January 24. Check out the video for "Austere" below. The single that is out now.

The Joy Formidable are on the verge of releasing their new album, The Big Roar, on March 15 via Canvasback/Atlantic Records. In the UK, the album will be released on January 24. The Big Roar comes two years after The Joy Formidable released their debut album in February of 2009, the indie-rock explosion of A Balloon Called Moaning, which SPIN magazine named one of the 10 Best Records You Might Have Missed in 2010. The band has since tightened their focus and loosened their sound, allowing for the choruses to be more anthemic and the colossal rush of guitars and melodic hooks to stand out in their jaw-dropping splendor. NME praised the band and album, calling lead-singer Ritzy Bryan "rock's new heroine," and proclaiming The Big Roar "an LP that ultimately delivers on every count on the four years of promise leading up to it-primarily in its gutsy, chest-swelling brilliance."

Tour Dates

3/22 Atlanta, GA @ The Earl
3/24 Durham, NC @ Coffeehouse @ Duke Univ.
3/25 Washington DC @ Black Cat
3/26 Albany, NY @ Valentines
3/28 Providence, RI @ The Met
3/29 Boston, MA @ Brighton Music Hall
3/30 Philadelphia, PA @ Johnny Brenda's
3/31 Princton, NJ @ Terrace Club @ Princeton Univ.
4/1 Harrisburg, PA @ The Abbey
4/2 Toronto, ON @ Horseshoe Tavern
4/4 Columbus, OH @ The Basement
4/5 Chicago , IL @ Lincoln Hall
4/6 Minneapolis, MN @ 7th Street Entry
4/8 Denver, CO @ Larimier Lounge
4/9 Salt Lake City, UT @ Kilby Court
4/11 Portland, OR @ Mississippi Studio
4/12 Seattle, WA @ Crocodile
4/14 San Francisco, CA @ Bottom of the Hill
4/16 Indio, CA @ Coachella
4/19 Phoenix, AZ @ Rhythm Room
4/20 Albuquerque, NM @ Launchpad
4/22 St Louis, MO @ Luminary Arts Center
4/23 Kansas City, MO @ Riot Room
4/26 Cleveland, OH @ Grog Shop
4/27 Pittsburgh, PA @ The Smiling Moose
4/29 New York, NY @ Webster Hall

For more quirky ramblings, drop by Quirky NY Chick.

Sneak Preview: DJ Dell’s ‘In The Beginning Mix’ – Feb ’11

2011-01-23T23:11:00.000-08:00

Sneak Preview: DJ Dell’s ‘In The Beginning Mix’.MP3 – Feb ’11

Yo! - As we near our first event for HOUSE@MONROE, it’s great that we already have over 30 confirmed on our Facebook Events Page. Please invite your friends and let’s make this an event to remember!

To get in the mood, feel free to stream/download DJ Dell’s ‘In The Beginning‘ mix. A selection of electro, old skool and funky house tunes, perfectly mixed for your pleasure

Take an hour out – stick on your headphones – and relax! Or, head to the gym and work-out to this - it WILL keep you going… Whatever you do – Enjoy!

The Stepford Wife's Workout Essentials...

2011-01-02T17:26:00.000-08:00

Coming up to my 3rd year in Stepford you'd think one might grow accustomed to the foibles of the local inhabitants..

Wifus Stepfordicus is a truly strange breed, not to be confused with the aspirational lesser spotted New Jersey House Wifus, or indeed the more brazen, well documented New York House Wifus... The Stepford Wife spends her day preening and primping, toying and tittilating until the hunter gatherer Prep Man returns with his spoils.

As part of the daily ritual the gym/bikram yoga/personal trainer comes only second to the initial hit of caffeine obtained from Starbucks/LPQ/Insert local french pattiserie of choice. But as the winter months draw in, it's the plumage of the Stepford Wife that begins to decree her standing in the community.

A NJ wife might be happy to spend her morning ritual clad in a Juicy Couture track suit, the Stepford Wife however, is mostly seen in Lululemon - the 'wicking friendly' sports attire that ensures this creature does not look like she's actually breaking a sweat during the observance of calorie burning. In addition, as the frigid weather closes in, full fur seems to be the only accessory of choice to transport this fragile species from one heated leisure facility to another.

This reporter also spotted a power walker in full length fur only yesterday striding through the picket fenced neighborhood, complete with fur ear muffs.... only in Stepford!

Year End Review: Paul McCartney & Wings - Band On The Run

2010-12-20T01:05:00.000-08:00

November 2, we saw the re-mastered, re-release of Paul McCartney & Wings' classic hit album, Band on the Run. It's the first release from the Paul McCartney Archive Collection. The 2 CD/1 DVD special edition consists of the original album, a disc of bonus tracks plus a disc containing more than an hours worth of video footage all wrapped up in a tidy enhanced package.

Band on the Run, originally released in 1973, came after some hit and miss McCartney albums. There were some gems on those works but overall, they were just nice. Band on the Run however sparkled and shined with the well crafted pop goodies that McCartney was and is known for. It's a record that still holds up well.

I've been spinning this release. In listening to it, the first thing I noticed was, I needed better headphones! Once that was squared away, I plugged in and cranked the sound. The re-master is louder and more clean than previous releases of the record. I hear more little bits and bobs that I never noticed before.

I realized something while listening to the record. All of the songs that I as a child, first associated as being McCartney, came from this album. Yes, as a kid I knew The Beatles music. But that was The Beatles and Beatle Paul and Wings Paul may have been one and the same, but they were separate in my mind. Beatles Paul was in funny movies and was a cartoon, literally ... oh and he wrote some great songs. But, Wings Paul was a rock star that people could actually go and see. He wasn't the larger than life entity his earlier self had become. Hey, nobody ever said kids made sense! Anyway, two of my all time favorite Wings songs come from this record "Let Me Roll It" and "Bluebird." Even though I've heard the song many times over the years, "Mrs. Vandebilt" has jumped out at me. It just pops on this edition and has been getting repeated plays.

I was excited about the One Hand Clapping video footage. But, I have to say, I'm just a wee bit disappointed. Yes, I'm happy to have it but it doesn't look like it has had any work done to it at all. I realize the footage is old but I expected it to be cleaner. As it stands, it feels a bit like watching a second (maybe third) generation bootleg VHS recording.

In a way, you can consider Band on the Run a best of record. It's some of McCartney's best post Fab Four work to date. I can't imagine a McCartney fan who doesn't own the album. But, if you're one of those who has the album in its original release and never got around to buying it on CD or digitally, now's a good time to pick it up (vinyl lovers need not fear, it's available in that format as well), it's a good little package. Listening to this re-master reminded me just how much I like this record.

Since there are plans to release other records as part of the Paul McCartney Archive Collection, I'm hoping the next one will be Wings Over America with a bonus DVD of Rockshow in its entirety. That would make me one seriously happy chick.

Band on the Run (Special Edition)

Remastered Album

Band on the Run
Jet
Bluebird
Mrs Vandebilt
Let Me Roll It
Mamunia
No Words
Picasso’s Last Words (Drink to Me)
Nineteen Hundred and Eighty Five

Bonus Audio Tracks

Helen Wheels
Country Dreamer
Bluebird [from One Hand Clapping]
Jet [from One Hand Clapping]
Let Me Roll It [from One Hand Clapping]
Band on the Run [from One Hand Clapping]
Nineteen Hundred and Eighty Five [from One Hand Clapping]
Country Dreamer [from One Hand Clapping]
Zoo Gang

DVD

Band on the Run Music Video
Mamunia Music Video
Album Promo Featuring Band on the Run, Mrs Vandebilt, Nineteen Hundred and Eighty Five, Bluebird
Helen Wheels Music Video
Wings In Lagos
Osterley Park
One Hand Clapping

For more quirky ramblings, drop by Quirky NY Chick.

Duran Duran Releases New Single Early + Visit East Village Radio

2010-12-09T23:06:00.000-08:00

December 8, the four original members of British pop band Duran Duran, John Taylor, Roger Taylor, Nick Rhodes and Simon Le Bon, released the lead single from their upcoming record a week early. The song, "All You Need Is Now" is currently being offered exclusively on iTunes for FREE. The 9-track album, also titled All You Need Is Now, will be released digitally on Tuesday, December 21 and was produced by Mark Ronson. For those of you who like to have physical contact with your music, you will have your opportunity in February 2011 when an expanded physical record with additional original new tracks in various format deluxe packages will be made available.

This evening, Friday, December 10, Simon Le Bon and Nick Rhodes will visit East Village Radio. They pair will be on Mark Ronson's show Authentic Sh*t. Tune into EVR (www.eastvillageradio.com) from 8pm - 10pm Eastern time.

I have to tell you, I still have a soft spot for Duran Duran. Early 80's me, little barely teen-aged, quirky chick me, loved them. That was the point in my young life where John was hotness personified in my book and when I wanted to dye my hair that horrid orange color Nick once sported ... yeah, don't ask.

The vibrant video for the title track “All You Need Is Now,” also set for release on iTunes on December 21st, was shot in and around London and was helmed by celebrated director Nick Egan, whose previous work includes Duran Duran’s “White Lines” and “Ordinary World” videos, as well as videos for Alanis Morissette, Sonic Youth, INXS, Oasis and more. Additional footage was provided by Gavin Elder, longtime documentary filmmaker for the band, amongst others.

All You Need Is Now, Duran Duran’s 13th studio album, features a newly announced collaboration with R&B/neo-soul superstar Kelis on “The Man who Stole a Leopard,” just one of the album’s many stand-out tracks. Trading call and response vocals with Simon Le Bon, Kelis’ shimmering vocal contribution puts the golden touch on the track’s already irresistible electro-driven groove.

Track List

All You Need Is Now
Blame The Machines
Being Followed
Leave a Light on
Safe (in the heat of the moment) (feat. Ana Matronic)
Girl Panic !
The Man who Stole a Leopard (feat. Kelis)
Runway Runaway
Before the Rain

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Robert Plant Confirms North American Tour Dates

2010-11-15T22:43:00.000-08:00

Robert Plant and Band of Joy announced they will be hitting the road early 2011 for a North American tour. New Yorkers, Plant will be at the Beacon Theatre on January 29. Those of you not in the New York area, check below for dates near you.

Rounder Records is excited to announce that Robert Plant has confirmed a 15-date North American tour. Beginning January 18th in Asheville, NC, this will be the first tour on these shores since the triumphant release of his latest album, Band of Joy, which Rolling Stone magazine in its four-star review called "sweet, elegant folk that still swings like Satan's barn door." The touring band will once again be the same that made the record: Patty Griffin, vocals; Darrell Scott, multi instrumentalist/vocals; Byron House, bass/vocals; Marco Giovino, drums and percussion/vocals, and co-producer Buddy Miller, guitar/vocals. North Mississippi Allstars will be supporting on all the dates.

Tour Dates

January

18 Asheville, NC Thomas Wolfe Auditorium
19 Pittsburgh, PA Peterson Events Center (University of Pittsburgh)
21 Ann Arbor, MI Hill Auditorium
22 Toronto, ONT Sony Centre for the Performing Arts
25 Boston, MA House of Blues
26 Upper Darby, PA Tower Theatre
28 Mashantucket, CT MGM Grand Theater at Foxwoods Resort Casino
29 New York, NY Beacon Theatre

February

1 Washington, DC DAR Constitution Hall
2 Raleigh, NC Raleigh Memorial Auditorium
4 North Charleston, SC North Charleston Performing Arts Center
5 Atlanta, GA Fox Theatre
7 Charlotte, NC Ovens Auditorium
8 - 9 Nashville, TN War Memorial Auditorium

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The Shearling trend... the origins

2010-11-10T01:28:00.000-08:00

Ever wondered where J.Crew and the like got their basic materials for this season's uber cozy shearling vests? The Welsh mountains of course....

For more Notes from a Stylist take a peek here...

The Duke Spirit & Levi's Offer Free Download

2010-11-05T15:34:00.000-07:00

The Duke Spirit are offering a free download of a new song "Procession," on Levi's Site. Check out the handy widget below. On a side note, I still have my sad face on over having to miss their show at Santos'.

After a triumphant return to NYC this week with a show at Santos Party House, The Duke Spirit played a captivating set at last night’s Levi’s Men's and Women's Spring 2011 Preview party. Fierce and magnetic frontwoman Liela Moss led the band through the bold new songs from their forthcoming album, due out in February on Shangri-La Music, including “Everybody’s Under Your Spell” (available as a free download at www.thedukespirit.com) and “Procession,” which is available as a free download on Levi’s site: http://us.levi.com/home/index.jsp.

Jack Wills hits Boston

2010-11-04T17:57:00.000-07:00

I greet the news of Jack Wills opening in Boston with a sigh - what, the preppy wannabe that you can't escape in Surrey is now trying to break America? Puuleeeasse - what's wrong with Rugby, Vineyard Vines, J.Crew, Madewell, Urban Outfitters - do the Jack Wills folk not think that breaking into New England hasn't already been covered?

Apparently it's because their brand is not owned by them it's 'owned by their customers' - yes right - that would be the teen girls from Guildford High School then have deemed that Boston is the next big nut to crack...

My experience of buying at Jack Wills for said Guildford High school girls is that it's bloody expensive and they should stick to their Aunt bringing Abercrombie back across the pond for half the price and twice the kudos.

Richard Ashcroft To Release New Record In 2011

2010-11-02T12:45:00.000-07:00

Richard Ashcroft, the British rocker best known as frontman of The Verve, has signed with Razor & Tie. His upcoming release, The United Nations Of Sound, will be released early 2011 here in The States. The 12-song record was produced by hip-hop producer No I.D. "Are You Ready?," the single, was released last month and is available at your favorite digital outlets. I'm digging this track so I'm looking forward to checking out the upcoming release.

Ashcroft is expected to tour the US in 2011, his first solo trek in six years, to support the album.

"It's an honor to work with someone as esteemed as Richard," said Beka Tischker, Vice President of A&R at Razor & Tie. "Besides being one of the seminal figures of modern British rock music, his music has touched my life. It's the icing on the cake in this business when you get to work with someone who soundtracked important parts of your life."

Songs from The United Nations of Sound are already in great demand and enjoying massive worldwide exposure through television and film placements. The anthemic lead track "Are You Ready?" is featured in Volkswagen's new Jetta ad campaign (viewable here), had been in promos for the 2010 FIFA World Cup Finals and is currently being used in FOX's broadcasts of Major League Baseball's postseason games including the opening of the World Series. Another track, "She Brings Me the Music" was recently featured in NBC's hit series Chuck. The forthcoming Matt Damon sci-fi flick The Adjustment Bureau will include a new song written and performed specifically for the film's opening by Richard and ten-time Oscar-nominated composer Tom Newman. The film will also feature "Are You Ready?" over the closing credits.

"Are You Ready?" is available for purchase on iTunes at this link.

For more quirky ramblings, drop by Quirky NY Chick.

5 Things to do this NYC Halloween!

2010-10-26T06:20:00.001-07:00

Photo Credit: Archivalproject

Halloween to us Brits is just ghosts and ghouls and scary stuff!

In NYC and America generally, there is still a scary element out there, but the costumes can be anything from Alice in Wonderland to the latest puppet in the political world! EVERYONE dresses up so dont miss out on what is the biggest, yes the biggest night in New york City. Not sure what to do? Here are some ideas for this years festivities: (and dont be shocked if you think you have mistakenly stepped into the red light district)

1) If you can stand crowds and being pushed left, right and centre, dont miss the famous Village Parade. it starts on Spring & 6th & runs up to 22nd street, 7-10pm. Anyone in costume can join in the fun, so if you have a group of friends up for it, get there early for the line up.

Photo credit: Life.com

2) Attend one of the many mental Halloween parties
3) Go to a haunted house. New Yorks Time Out has a great info page on where to get scared.
4) Have kiddies for this Halloween? Here are some great resources for family fun.

Photo credit: TimeoutKids

5) If you are not joining in, have a great time checking out Rickys costumes and people watching from afar.

Are there any "must dos" this Halloween we missed out?
Add them below in the comments.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE!

Real Fakes at the Chelsea Galleries...

2010-10-22T14:31:00.000-07:00

There's nothing like a bit of sculpture to get the artistic juices flowing, but sculptured shoes and handbags - now that makes me really pay attention.

At the Mike Weiss Gallery (520 W24th St) there's a surprising exhibition by Liao Yibai of what he likes to call 'Real Fakes'. A larger than life gathering of over the top pieces in stainless steel that point to the subversive world of fake luxury goods.

As with scoping out a fake, it's all about taking a closer look - there's the Chanel clutch that has an Apple logo, the Pengdi tote and my personal favorite the 'Real Sprada Bag'.

This exhibition is small but fun - it runs until October 30th so get your fake Gucci's on and trot down to the Chelsea Galleries.

For more fashion-tastic news take a peek at Notes from a Stylist

Divasgusting

2010-10-20T14:40:00.004-07:00

Style is so omnipresent in New York that even the water bottles are intimidatingly fashionable.

Turns out this Missoni/Pelligrino collaboration was the most stylish thing I would see on the day when I take a 'diva' shopping tour of the garment district with my fellow Big Apple Brits blogger Notes by a Stylist. Immediate alarm bells were ringing due to the use of the word diva in the title, being as I am neither a 6 year old girl who shops at Claire's Accessories or living in 1996.

Whenever alarm bells ring they never cease, they just get louder. When we met the tour guide on a Midtown corner, the bells are shaking my very core. She is wearing a waistcoat that was surely fashioned from my bathroom rug, with an iluminous pink nylon handbag. It wasn't like I expected her head to toe in Rodarte, but she looked like she was dressed in the dark by a four year old with A.D.D.

We are told of the excitement and bargains ahead and are quickly herded to an anonymous looking office building around the corner where we all squeeze into a lift and arrive on the 10th floor. When we pile out, I spot the showroom for a cool department store brand and realise I have judged the whole thing too hastily. But no. We're not going there. No. We're going to the showroom of a coat designer, who I've never heard of who. But not to worry, because she has a crumpled copy of an old Oprah magazine, proving firstly that someone at a magazine once liked one of her coats and secondly that they normallyretail at $1000. That's $1000! The showroom assistant shouts this as if she's talking to a group of Primary school children learning basic addition. "That's O-pa-raah! That's one thousand bucks! But for you today, most pieces retail at around... $300. That's a saving of...(nods her head excitably) SEVEN...HUNDRED...BUCKS!"

I have no interest in a new coat costing $300 so I mooch around sulking until I am pounced on by the actual designer. Why is she hawking her own stuff? Doesn't she have better things to do? Like...design something?

"You have to try this on!" she says.

"No thank you" I say looking at a purple boucle wool coat so old fashioned my dead Nanna would have hesitated to wear it to bingo.

"No. You have to try it on!" she persists.

"No thank you."

"I insist."

"Uh...no."

"I'm not taking no for an answer!"

"Sorry, no."

"You know honey? This coat would be great for your with your big boobs, it's really flattering with the shawl collar..."

Yes she did. She really did. She went there. Ok, so it's no secret to the world that I have large breasts, they are right there every day, for all to see- distracting men from what I'm saying and making me look like a hooker in every blouse I wear. They ruin fashion choices, I need a second mortgage every time I buy a bra and I will never stand up entirely straight. So guess what? What I do not need, is this to be shouted out by a woman I just met in front of a group of strangers. I pause. Fix her with a menacing stare, the smile and say:

"I. DON'T LIKE IT. I DON'T LIKE YOUR COAT."

That sort of set the tone from there on in and Sara and I are like bored schoolgirls being dragged around an automotive museum. The depressing cycle of overpriced tat continues for hours, broken up only by the odd bit of cheap tat. At one point we're not allowed in a showroom because a buyer is there and the tour guide whispers.

"The buyers don't know we have these tours..."

Oh reeeeeeally? So the people who work in the industry don't know this goes on? I assume they are not only idiots, but also don't have Internet connections to google 'garment district showroom shopping tours'?

When we are at the point of no more we are taken into another showroom and the designer introduces herself by telling us she's hilarious. That's hilarious with lots of exclamation marks!!! I walk out and Sara follows. We skulk around outside for 15 minutes wondering before Sara has a genius plan. We're going to let everyone know what we think about this, in the most British way possible: We're going to run away.

No complaining, no honesty, no embarrassment. We prod the lift hastily, bolt out of the building and hail a cab on 7th Avenue and head for lunch where we drink to forget our Post Traumatic Dress Disorder.

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Stormy weather...just can't get myself together

2010-10-20T14:40:00.003-07:00

I spent Columbus day in bed hungover, discovering only that I cannot drink like I'm 25 anymore.

This is not a new revelation, which is apt because it turns Columbus didn't really discover much on this day in history either.

He was actually more of a PR man for The Americas, which was probably found years before by the Chinese in 1421 or even by my Welsh forefathers way back in the 6th century. Christopher did all the promotional work though and then reveled in the glory, making the new world really popular via his genius marketing plan of slavery, which it turns out, really caught on. When he first set foot in the Bahamas he noted in his log how the ignorant locals would make fine servants and that "...with fifty men we could subjugate them all and make them do whatever we wanted."

So with Columbus being something of a power hungry Italian Dom it is perplexing why he is celebrated at all.

But when you're a Cardiff girl, there is little excuse needed for a party, so I start the festivities the night before at a West Village bar serving half price bottles of wine. I come home in the early hours to the local crazy who has threatened to kill me several times passed out in front of my building. Shame he was more zonked than me, so we couldn't exchange our usual pleasantries where he screams "You're going to die, you fucking bitch" and I cry "What have I ever done to you?"

My recollections of the next few hours are shaky, but after I step over my hobo nemesis and retire to the safety of my apartment I remember drunken arguing with the (sober) American, drunken IMing anyone in the UK who was awake and drunken oven pizza burning.

By the following evening I have done nothing with my day but sleep, rot my brain watching E and suffered the black dog that accompanies every hangover. I wait for the big storm to hit. I know it is coming, not because I am a witch as The American claims, but because NY1 had been getting a hard-on about it all day.

New York does storms like it does everything else-completely over the top. First comes the rain, not drops, but lashes from the sky in huge sheets. Then the hail, as if every barman in the city has emptied their ice buckets at the same time. The stones hammering down on the back of the air conditioning unit like a drummer having an epileptic fit. Then the thunder so loud I feel the vibrations in my heart, quickly followed by lightning illuminating the inky sky.

The American and I open the bedroom windows and stick our heads out by the fire escape. We drink it the drama, turn off our phones, switch off the TV and shut our laptops. No technology can compete with the free show from nature tonight.

New York photographer Jay Fine's stunning picture of Lady Liberty in the lightning storm

"The lightning is like a giant Paparazzo bulb over Manhattan." says The American "Like the city is one big celebrity getting papped."

Cute. Clever even. He doesn't always say dumb stuff, despite his obvious disadvantage of being descendant of those who fell for Columbus New World marketing ploy.

"I like that." I say.

"You should put that in your blog." he says.

"Hmmm...maybe." I say.

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Homesick and Hiraeth...

2010-10-12T14:40:00.000-07:00

The Welsh language has it's very own word for homesickness.

It's a word that has no literal translation into English, but the best way to try to describe it as a grief and longing for the homeland. The word is Hiraeth. And I have it bad.

I am pining for my mates, Sainsburys, shitty weather, Primark, Coronation Street, Roath Park by my house and irony. For some inexplicable reason my Hiraeth has also manifested itself in a deep desire to once again see the concrete monolith that is the Gabalfa roundabout in Cardiff.

I haven't added my Mother to the list because she has a special way of making me feel like she's in the same room as me when she nags me transatlantically. It's quite the unique talent. It has nothing what so ever to do with the fact she didn't buy me a flight home this summer when I was skint. That would make me spoiled and entitled. But can I just point out that Bank of Mum is only supposed refuse withdrawals if the child works in a stable industry, which clearly doesn't include the media. Instead of a flight, she sent me anIlovestheDiff t-shirt.

I loves the 'Diff t-shirt posing by classic NY fire escape. It's raining, so it feels at home.

In my Mother's defence she'd already stumped up a load of cash up for The Teenager to go home in July. For a few months of the summer return flights were starting at $1000. I have never seen prices that high. Was there a fuel crisis that had passed me buy as I no longer own a car?

I know there are worse places to be stranded than NYC, so I tried to see the positives of being in sweltering, rubbish stenched 100 degree heat for the summer.

I mostly focused on the Teenager going home and the resulting break from Motherhood-having been hard at it for 16 years without parole. I was really looking forward to being an adult life free of responsibilities- ready to go out banging pills of Meow Meow and sleeping with hot hipsters in nightclub toilets. Then I remembered I am not only 35, but married. Seems there is always someone to spoil the fun.

I was determined not to remain in NY. for the whole summer. So there was Plan B to have our long awaited honeymoon to California. Until The American's new job put an end to that.

"Hooonnneeeeee. What can I do?" says the American.

"Nothing. I just hate New York right now. I just want to home and reset."

"I feeeeeel bad." he says.

"It's not your fault." I say and look up at him with an expression that says: Really it is your fault cos you're American and the collective you is responsible for most of the crap in the word, especially the stuff that involves fuel prices.

It gets me a little depressed. For at least a few days. Which is a lot for me, as usually the only things that make me moody are hormones and The American eating my stash of British chocolate.

I begin to wonder will I always feel like this this? Sort of...displaced? Will being away from what I still call home forever feel like I'm escaping something? Even though there is nothing I want to run from in Cardiff? Quite the opposite in fact, I would quite like to put on my trainers and do a Forest Gump and sprint all the way back to Arran Street.

Like other expats, I've started to create my own little Welsh Alien corner of home in New York. Brit friends coupled with an inability to make any American mates, two Brit shops and a Chip shop within walking distance, an ongoing mission to hack the BBC iplayer and my small but perfectly formed NYC Bluebirds supporters club. New York home is still not home though.

After days of wallowing in my Hiraeth I stagger out onto my street and into the late afternoon sunshine to head for the coffee shop around the corner.

I buy a large iced caffeine boost and sit on the bench outside next to a strange looking, slightly Albino woman. Turns out she is just Scandinavian, I can't be more specific as I wasn't really listening at first, after initially judging her to be a nutter. After 10 minutes the conversation turns to the subject of freckles, of which she had a lot, as do I. Except hers are red and pretty much blend into one big splodge.

"Frickles arrre so pre-tea!" she says

"I think so too!" I say

"Ven I vos lidl girl in school, a boy say to me sumting lovely bout de frickles"

"What did he say?"

"He say dat a girl vivout frickles is like a sky vivout da stars."

The weird albino nordic woman smiles at me and I smile back.

New York always does this. Just when I am feeling like I don't want to be here anymore, like I love her less-she throws me a scrap. Just something small like this, a moment. And she knows that I am fickle, just like the city. She knows that this moment, this one moment will mean that I will love her again.

I say goodbye and walk down 7th Avenue, sip my coffee and check my Hiraeth.

It's still there, but not so much...

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Fashion Week - who wore what....

2010-09-19T12:11:00.000-07:00

The great thing about a fashion week - and New York is no exception, is that it makes you uber sensitive about what to wear.

As part of the press pack, it shouldn't really matter as you can rest assured that by the 8th hour on your feet trudging lemming like from show to show, you are sure to be lookng more like stig of the dump than that papparazzo ready look you were chanelling earlier that morning - when, to be fair, there aren't that many papps around anyway - they're more likely to be nursing a sore head after burning the midnight oil trying to get shots of the late night show arrivals.

You can choose to be whoever you want at fashion week - a sleek pulled together media/buyer type, dressed elegantly and efficiently in office attire with this season's twist, who needs to get the show over and done with fast so she can get her copy posted or buying decisions made.

Noor Alsabah (buyer) wearing Behnaz Sarafpour dress, Mories statement necklace

You could be the quirky arty type who throws a creative look together and hangs around the tents with no ticket but safe in the knowledge that some blogger or other will papp you for a shot for 2 seconds of fame in the blogosphere. Conversley you could be a 'lookeylikey/wannabe' - see previous sentence.

You could be working your nuts off as a celebrity stylists right hand man and seat filler...

Or you could simply be your own quirky self...

The point is it's all about the fashion darling after all...

For more Notes from a Stylist take a peek here....

Posted via email from Big Apple Brits - British Expats, Anglophiles and Brit Culture Lovers New York City

Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week - The Crowd

2010-09-15T12:10:00.000-07:00

Posted: September 15, 2010 -

So Fashion Week is upon us and as ever, the crowd are more interesting than the clothes so far.

I don't know about you, but armpit hair - male or female is a tad of a turn off. The fabulous Lady Fag hit New York Fashion Week in style - beautiful bangles, tattoo and killer heels - all was going swimmingly well until I spotted the armpit hair - noooooo - it's just morally wrong - or is that just me?

Then there was the top chicky chick at Michael Angel - apparently it's Julia Stegner - or that's what celeb blogger Bryan Boy told me and actually posted a better pic than mine.

Grace Jones was in town for the Alexander Berardi show - last time I saw her I think it was the 80's and the venue was Brixton Academy and she kept the crowd waiting for 4 hours - I still haven't forgiven her for that.

Finally there was Ms J from Project Runway fame who at Ports 1961 was sat front row next to a kid - who I'm sure when I look in the papparazzo press tomorrow will be named as the next big Jodie Foster or Alexa Chung or whatever. But quite frankly both Ms J, Kid & big guy next to her (who am thinking might be the guy from the new A-Team movie) all looked totally bemused by the juxtaposition they were in.

Plan for tomorrow - read enough celeb/papparazzo/naff press to be at least in shape to spot who's in the front row next time around....

For more blogtastic news on Fashion Week check out Notes from a Stylist

Posted via email from Big Apple Brits - British Expats, Anglophiles and Brit Culture Lovers New York City

Fashion's Night Out Sept 10th

2010-09-08T12:10:00.000-07:00

Posted: September 8, 2010 -

Just when you thought there was no earthly reason to continue your downward spiral into credit card debt oblivion, the wonderful world of fashion has come up with a pretty good reason to celebrate shopping and all that is fab about fashion.

Yes those clever marketing fashionistas have put together another 'Fashion's Night Out'. With Vogue's Anna Wintour as the lynch pin behind this scheme, the event goes global with a frenzied fashion fest set to kick off from London to Taiwan.

Set this year in New York for September 10th, the night is billed as 'Shopping for something good'. Stores stay open till 11pm whilst Designers mingle with staff and celebrity stylists to give the whole thing that authentic block party feel.

You can plan ahead if you scope out Fashion's Night Out web site, which gives you a comprehensive blow by blow shake down on which neighborhoods are doing what so you'll be armed with the nouse ready to hit the stores on the 10th. There's also a fab google map gadget that helps you figure out how far and wide your shopping frenzy can stretch - I'm currently optimistically planning on hitting SoHo, Meatpacking, Bowery & Brooklyn...hmmm.

Be sure not to forget your best fashionista attitude, your credit card and some blister plasters for those battered tootsies at the end of the night.

Posted via email from Big Apple Brits - British Expats, Anglophiles and Brit Culture Lovers New York City

My route to 66...

2010-09-01T14:38:00.000-07:00

Much like Joaquin Phoenix I've had a strange and surreal 12 months.

It's exactly a year since I packed up my life in Cardiff and arrived at JFK with a sobbing Teenager. She shedding tears for the boyfriend she left in Wales, me still in shock at my Dad's death a month previously. At my feet some seriously bulging excess baggage.

The American picked us up in a rented SUV and we drove into Manhattan. I was all broad smiles and endless chat, but with a belly groaning with nerves. This is home now. Excited and scared for what lay ahead. Bye bye Cardiff. A fresh start packed to the brim with hope and blindness to any troubles that may lay ahead.

There was no time to ponder on my grief. No pontificating on the enormity of what I had done-giving up a great job at the BBC, renting out my beloved house to strangers, leaving my recently widowed Mum. I was the project manager of this whole new family life and there was a lot of gluing to do, or things would fall apart.

The work started pretty quickly with enrolling The Teenager in school, which was swiftly followed by finding another school, as she hated the first one. Next, the blistering footwork to find an apartment, followed by ploughing all our savings into securing the right one-which then had to be decorated and furnished. We moved from our temporary digs in Queens to our permanent bijoux box in the West Village and wondered how we were all going to live in harmony in such a tiny space.

There was then the small matter of getting married in Central Park by a naval captain in the freakish hot Autumn sunshine and then a rodent infestation in our perfect apartment in place of a honeymoon. Then began immigration and all the ridiculous, comedy bureaucracy that accompanies it. Have you ever been engaged in vice? Are you planning a coup against the U.S. government? Were you a member of the Nazi party between 1939-1945?

When the excitement wore off and it no longer felt like we were here on a long holiday- the missing came. Missing my Mum, missing my friends, really missing my Dad, missing working, missing Corrie and Cadburys, missing the NHS and missing someone knowing what a wanker is.

I had to find my way around New York and my new family life and there was maps for the first but not for the second, but in both I got lost frequently. Some real personal stuff happened, that even I as a chronic oversharer didn't want to blog about. Winter days got shorter and darker and colder and then snowy. Then there came some even bigger problems which I couldn'tblog about and then there was some money problems due to the stuff I couldn't blog about.

Throughout it all I missed not having girl mates to talk the extra 15 thousand words a day that women need to say. Finding them became my mission and I was horribly desperate at first, a girl's girl starved of female company. But by the time there was spring blossom outside our window the friends came. Then the friendships had to be fostered through NY girl activities like toxic cocktail drinking and $20 manicures from women who bitch about you in Korean. But mostly it was about the drinking. There is little that cannot be forged over a Manhattan mixed Martini.

Summer, the last season in the cycle. (More) Tears (than usual) for my Dad on the anniversary of his death,temperatures of 100 degrees giving birth to an obsession with air cons. Our green cards arriving in the mailbox and the U.S. immigration service using the worse photos I have ever seen of The Teenager and I. A deliberate ploy I believe, so immigrants will not commit crime and end up with an unflattering picture of them on the news.

I blogged about most of what happened over the year here on Welsh Alien. In fact, I wrote so much I didn't actually write my book, but then I have not been writing my book for at least a decade, so at least that's one comfortable consistency to keep me warm at night. I can safely say I penned at least a book's worth of blogs, except none of you paid 12.99 for my hard work on Amazon. Although I'd like to think you would, given the chance.

I have written 66 blogs so far. This one makes 67.

66 would have been nice. An even, rounded number that evokes World Cup wins and famous American roads. But then that's not my number.

My life here is far more of a 67. A lovely, odd imperfection.

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She works hard for the money...

2010-08-31T14:38:00.000-07:00

Since moving to New York I haven't done much of what could be constituted as a hard day's work.

I appreciate this is unlikely to endear me to anyone reading, so I'll come straight in with the defence that I only recently got my U.S. work permit. Well fairly recently. Two months ago to be exact. I had planned to hide it down the back of the sofa but The American got to it first.

"Honnnneee you can get a proper job now!" he trills, waving the card excitedly around like it's the Wonka Golden ticket .

"I have a job! I am a Journalist."

"Honnnneee. I know you are a journalist, but you kind of have to work as one, not just, like, be one."

"Fuck off and make your own pasta."

To further my defence it's not like I've sat on my arse watching Maury and General Hospital for the last year, instead life has been it's own real life soap opera to which I've become the reluctant producer. I've been pretty busy with a whole lot of something and a fair bit of nothing.

There have been paid jobs here and there, some radio, some writing, a few small TV jobs, but nothing that would pay the rent- and when you live in a bijoux box in the West Village, ain't nutin' going on the but the rent.

I had been trying to avoid going back into tele, for the reasons that I am rather fond of having a life and not so fond of cultivating new deep set frown lines.

But the TV demons want what the TV demons want, so when I get my called by a former colleague and offered a month's work as a New York 'fixer' for a high end Natural history programme I am back in the game again. I have to admit it feels good to be ~~a whore for the money~~ get hired again.

I take the job even though 'fixer' sounds like a someone who goes in and cleans up after a grisly murder in a Tarantino film. As it turns out, it means everything from location and casting manager to producer, NYC restaurant expert and coffee runner.

Before the crew arrive for 8 days of filming I spend the several weeks beforehand researching and finding people and places to film. Turns out I am pretty good at scouting locations, seems my year of doing a whole lot of something and nothing has given me a finely honed sense of this Island.

The crew arrive on a dull, humid Tuesday night. Within 20 minutes of meeting them at their hotel there's a TV crisis, some sandbags are missing for an essential piece of kit. For the majority of you fortunate enough to not work in the industry, let me explain a TV crisis; It is the very worse kind of crisis. It starts as quickly as it is over, but for it's lifetime it's all pervading, encompassing and really, reeeeeally serious. This particular one find us all in a sport's shop at 8p.m. buying 200 lb of weights and then working how we get them out of the shop and back to the crew's hotel.

That's just the entrée. Over the following 8 days there are many more real-life TV dramas and surreal moments.

There is extortion from the locals in Chinatown, there are rats and their catchers, there are angry honeybees on a show stopping rooftops in Queens. There are 6 a.m starts, midnight finishes, a soundman with suspected martini poisoning and a night out that ends with a cameraman riding a mechanical bull in a Lower East side bar.

There is a fight in another bar that has hundreds of women's bras hanging from the ceiling (not involving any of us crew I would like to point out), there is the panic stricken 5 minutes when we think we've locked some contributors on a 7th floor balcony and there is getting chased down by some graffiti artists in Long Island City.

Then there is the weather. After a glorious NYC summer, it is stubbornly grey when all we need to film is golden sunshine.

The American is patient while I work day and night, although really I suspect he just enjoys playing a lot of x box unhindered. While I am gone our apartment goes to shit: laundry sits in the basket, nothing gets picked up from where it was dropped and a cure for cancer grows in the sink. The American does not do any of these household chores because he has a penis and is busy killing Nazis.

I don't have time to write or see my friends or do anything else I love. I am out every night having dinner with the crew and this means booze becomes my major food group.

I also don't go to the gym which means I get grumpier by the day, although I do lug lots of camera equipment around up endless flights of stairs and carry a lot of waters and coffees. Me and the driver find ourselves doing a lot of drinks runs actually- on one of them we work out we have a combined age of 65 and three degrees and a postgrad between us-which we think might make us the most well educated pair of coffee runners in town. We laugh about a lot about that. No really, we're in total stitches.

On the last day, with the words "it's a wrap" ringing joyfully in my ear I wave goodbye to the director as she heads off for Newark.

I bounce down 27th street, feeling the satisfaction of a hard month's work. Just that old fashioned buzz of a job well done and bringing home the bacon. Feels good. I had forgotten how good. I want to go crazy, pay some bills! Do a food shop! Mail a rent cheque!

The euphoria lasts until the next morning when I get sick. A raging sore throat, a thumping headache I can't shift and a lethargy. Tele hangover. I swear I will not do another TV job again, even though I know I will, especially when I add up what I've earned. This causes my fingers to disconnect from my brain and make their own way to my laptop to buy some new stuff for the apartment and an ipod and that perfect pair of summer wedges without the ankle straps that make your legs look fat.

Then I take to my bed in dramatic Victorian fashion and dispatch The American to Duane Reade to buy me Theraflu and tissues that don't make your nose go red. I tell him I think that maybe TV work does not agree with me. He says I should rest and not worry about another job until I'm better.

I tell him I suspect it will be a long recovery.

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You can ring my Liberty Bell...

2010-08-31T14:37:00.000-07:00

New York and I need a break.

My Welsh alien ship has been stranded for too long in Manhattan. The wheels are rusty. Just like any relationship, I know my love will be renewed after some time apart.

This is what finds me on the Bolt Bus bound for a postcard pretty suburb of Philadelphia. My plan is enforced solitude so I can work. I need to escape the city's whoreish pull on me, it's murky and delicious temptations that lurk on every corner. To achieve calm in the countryside. To see butterflies. To not have my groceries thrown at me. To remember what manners sound like.

I am going to house and pet sit in Bala Cynwydd, a former Welsh colony. I wasn't aware my forefathers were at it either. No longer can us Welsh claim a moral superiority over our English cousins and their voracious appetites for stealing lands that didn't belong to them. We likely did it with less panache though-brandishing daffodils and shouting "Alright' butt' I'll take this land now. Ta."

When I arrive I can see what the appeal was-the place even looks like Wales with lots of greenery and trees. I meet my charge-an 80 pound 14 month old golden retriever- who's described as '"Frisky". He's apparently partial to toilet roll and kitchens, having already eaten his way through an entire one. 80 pounds is a lot of a dog, almost as big as some humans. It's roughly the same size as Nicole Richie in her partying with Paris days.

From the start, Montana-who shall be known as Slobadan on account of his highly productive dribble producing jaws- follows me everywhere, only leaving my side occasionally to try and destroy something. When I shower he sits outside the cubicle, when I am on the loo he opens the bathroom door with his paws and sits next to me. When I eat, he thinks it's dinner for two. When I try and work he soaks the keyboard with drool. When I turn my back on him he tries to mount me.

By the end of the first day the items I have retrieved from his mouth include (but are not limited to); my pen, two notepads, several books, something unidentifiable from the bathroom, my vintage scarf, most of my lunch and two toilet rolls.

Everytime he does something bad he looks up at me panting, his pink tongue lolling like a giant slice of deli ham, his soft golden face framed by long sandy eyelashes. Yes, he has doggy eyelashes. I am putty in his paws.

That night I sit drinking wine on the porch, looking out at the trees and flowers and listening to the sweet sound of nothing but crickets and and birds saying 'coup coup' in the trees. Fireflies are darting in and out of the hedges. Slobadan wants to play ball. It is nearly 10 p.m.

On day two I discover that-as warned- nothing here is in walking distance aside from lots more trees. I will need to use the car. I have slight qualms about this due to the fact that I haven't driven in a year/have limited experience on the wrong right side of the road/have always thus far refused to operate an automatic. So, that's actually quite a few qualms, but I have never been one to let logic lead me off my destined path.

I set off to buy my groceries for the week, arriving in one piece at the retail park, happy there is little to distract me in sleepy Bala Cynwydd.

That's when I discover the local Lord and Taylor sitting right next to the supermarket. I have never even set foot in The New York branch, imagining it to be one of the less exciting, more old lady department stores. In this setting though, it gleams like Tutankhamun's tomb. It is consumer Atlantis.

Inside, my retail radar leads me to the clearance section. The rails aren't anywhere near as plundered like they would be in New York, even though a sign informs me there is another 40% off all the lowest marked prices. When I get to the till the assistant tells me there is further 20% discount. Game changing, some dribble escapes from the side of my mouth. I go skittering back off into the rails and find a classic navy Ralph Lauren cardigan for $20 and a floral BCBG Max Azria dress for $50. I feel a little faint with excitement, but I put them both down and force myself to leave, exercising my If-you-are-still-thinking-about-them-tomorrow-you-should-buy-them-policy.

The next day I pull back the curtains to hear birds tweeting and see a butterfly float past the window... I can think about nothing but the Lord and Taylor clearance racks. I take the dog for a long walk to distract myself, through the 19th century graveyard nearby, where I see the grandoise resting places of the area's former brewery owners.

My crypt's-bigger-than-your-crypt was apparently a popular game in Philadelphia at the turn of the century-some of them are more spacious than my Manhattan apartment.

I breathe in the air, it's clean and there is absolute quiet and austerity...Then a little voice says "I wonder if that BCBG dress is still there?"

It's no good, I have to go back. Montana asks if he can come, but I tell him bargain hunting is a dog-eat-dog game and he may not be safe in the crush. Of course, he knows there will be no crush and cocks his head to the side and demands an extra cheese string as guilt payment.

I return and regretably discover a whole other floor with lingerie and sports wear on and some more clearance racks, including the shoes. I leave with a bag almost as heavy as the feeling of disappointment in myself for being so easily distracted.

The next few days drift by- I write while sitting on the porch in the sunshine, read a book called The Sex Lives of Cannibals, watch movies, work, sunbathe, work some more. I take lengthy morning dog walks in the abundance of local cemeteries and take pictures of the Welshies' headstones.

I wrestle my bra, more toilet rolls, People magazine and a punnet of Blueberries from the Jaws of Slobby. I get covered in giant mosquito bites, I try to figure out how to get a train into town, but they only seem to run every 5 hours. I clean dog slobber off everything I own. I spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about the Lord and Taylor clearance rack.

On the last day, after a week of perfect weather, I am trying to even up my tan in the garden when the skies darken and I hear a rumble in the near distance. Within minutes it's like a monsoon hit. I run inside with Montana, who growls every time the thunder does. We sit inside and I tell him not to be scared, that it'll pass. He just pants at me, which seems to be his standard response to everything.

I go out on to the porch for a few minutes to drink in the drama. Rain batters the trees and the brook outside races furiously. The prettiness is destroyed, everything is imperfect, mud sloshes on the lawn. Nature is a bit pissed off. It's a truly entertaining, real kind of beauty.

And just like that, I am ready to go back to New York.

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Look who's celebrity stalking...

2010-08-31T14:36:00.000-07:00

As if I needed further evidence never to leave the house without a camera in New York, I recently bumped into Helena Christensen in Rite Aid.

This is no euphemism, we actually ran into each other at the end of an aisle. She smiled-as technically it was her fault-she was coming around the corner and not paying attention. When we clashed there was skin touching, the brushing of arms as I recall. Which means I have-by association- touched skin with Linda, Christy and Claudia et al. It also means I am just one degree of separation from rolling around on a beach with Chris Isaak:

This sighting of a legendary supermodel-turned photographer and humanitarian- is surprising for several reasons:

1) Rite Aid is the most ghetto pharmacy ever. Even though I spotted her in the West Village branch, it doesn't stop them selling two packs of cakes for 99c and having the deodorants under alarmed casing. There is only ever one person serving and there's always a line. Which leads me to point number 2.

2) Helena was actually queuing. After our clash of skin, I spazzed out a bit and ran round and around the shop, shameful of the 99c 'Freeze at home!' ice lollies I was carrying around, that Helena may or may not have seen. Then I went to the till to find myself behind her in line. This gave me adequate time to memorise her outfit; (black boho cotton dress with white tree pattern, black flip flops and a neutral straw bag), the tattoo on the back of her neck (black, small, some kind of symbol) and her hair (twisty up, messy chic up-do) as well as wondering how many pounds I would have to shed to look even vaguely Helena like (rather a lot).

3) She was buying Vitamins. I would imagine a former supermodel turned photographer and humanitarian would have a specific 'Vitamin doc' for such purposes. Actually, they could have been painkillers, I can't be sure, but either way you would imagine a specialist for any matters pertaining to a supermodel body? Her purchase total came to $14.85. A mere $14.85 people, how attainable is that? You or I could have the same total if we were to go into a Rite Aid and buy the same things.

4) I had already seen Helena just days previously at the Bonsignour cafe in the West Village. I was outside on a bench watching the football on their specially erected T.V. and I nearly choked on my lemonade. She was with her son Mingus, who is like the successful result of an Arian superace experiment. Helena eats at the same place as me. Unfortunately our weight is not in the same place, not even the same zip code. Maybe she just drinks the coffee and doesn't hoof the cakes?

Two sightings of the same supermodel in close proximity can only mean thus: she lives in my hood. This is enough to send my fickle sensibilities crashing into reasoning overdrive that we should no longer move to Brooklyn for more space and sanity, but stay in our overpriced bijoux box in the West Village. How can I now move from my Manhattan knowing that a supermodel and childhood idol lives a mere amble away?

Oh Helena, what a wicked game you play, to make me feel this way.

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Fireworks on my first 4th

2010-07-07T14:35:00.000-07:00

I am stood on the rooftop of the W hotel in Union Square on the night of 4th July dressed in the colours of the USA.

It's 90 degrees at 9.20 p.m. and I have broken out into a full body sweat after racing back from a BBQ in Brooklyn. I have dashed through the Brownstone lined streets of Park Slope, battled a packed 2 train, followed by an ambling L. I have sprinted across the square from the subway exit to hear the crackles and rumbles of the Fireworks starting up in the distance. I have stopped in dry mouthed panic at a street vendor to buy water, scrambled for a dollar, but didn't have any cash. The man looked at me and told me not to worry about paying. This never happens. I can only guess I am that adorable shade of beetroot again.

Now I stand 25 stories up, with my Scouse Welsh mate and The Aussie. Another friend who works at the hotel has snuck us in among a small group of staff members to get an enviable vantage of the Macy's Fireworks.

Unspecified $$$ worth of Pyrotechnics are lighting up the inky sky, shooting off 6 barges on the Hudson River. Somewhere nearby NBC are broadcasting live off a cruise liner with Canadian and exercise in medocrity Justin Beiber leading the proceedings.

To my left is the back of the giant 'W' that sits atop the hotel. From here I can see the tangle of wires that light it up. Tonight the 'W' stands for a string of superlatives. Wow. Wonderment. Wicked.

To my right- there is the phallic greatness of the Manhattan skyline. The usual stalwarts like the Crysler and the Empire State standing proud, like concrete cocks.

I don't have my camera and I'm anxious about what a perfect photoblog this would have made. My brain scrambles to write the scene in my head but despite the breathtaking allure, all I'm thinking about is how Fireworks are really quite sad. A lot of beauty that poofs and piffs and goes as quickly as it arrives. Tremendous but transient.

There is an almost eerie silence atop the roof. No "Owwws" and "Ahhs", just everyone watching and thinking their own thoughts. As the gold, greens, reds and blues color the sky I wonder what those thoughts are. Maybe some are simply craving the drink they're gonna get when they get off work? Or as giant exploding firework Chrysanthmums burst into the horizon, how they want to go home and fuck their wife? Is anyone else feeling mournful? Hot and sticky and sorrowful?

My thoughts have fallen inevitably to my Dad.

I wonder if I will always feel sad to see something spectacular, because he won't. My eyes feel wet and I realise I may sob right there on the roof, in front of everyone and they will think I am crying with joy at the Fireworks and that will make me look like a massive twat.

So I bite into the inside of my lip and breathe in hard and steel myself.

A little tear has escaped and is blobbing down my cheek. If anyone could see it up close they would catch the last burst of colour from the fireworks reflected in it.

It is really hot. I breathe.

Tonight I am red, white and a little bit blue.

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NYC heatwave: The Sunnyday Roast

2010-07-07T14:34:00.000-07:00

Summer in New York City is something of a climatical groundhog day.

You wake up in an air conditioned bedroom that feels like a giant freezer. You go outside into a sauna. Walk any distance and you are perspiring like a human hog roast. Eyeball sweat blinds you before you have reached the end of your block. You escape back inside again and you're back in the freezer. Outside Sauna...inside freezer. Sauna. Freezer. Sauna. Freezer.

NY1 is in it's element right now is as this heatwave is upgraded from 'regular' to 'record breaking' There are stories of fainting firefighters, power outages and constant tips to stay cool.

Right now I cannot walk out of my house without raising my hand to my head and saying "Owww!", while puffing like a Grandma in pain. Sometimes I even start singing Billy Idol's Hot in the City to myself like a social retard or I yell "Scorchio!" like Caroline Aherne's weathergirl on the Fast Show.

Today it was 99 degrees with no sun. Cloudy with a chance of heat rash. Disgusting. As disgusting as the sweat that is running down my back and into my arse. Butt crack sweat, what could be erotic than that? Good thing I'm married already.

From that image, I segway neatly into our bedrooms, where we have relief in the form our air conditioning units. The rest of the apartment has to make do with a freestanding fan that just circulates the hot air. The bathroom and kitchen have become go-only-when-necessary zones. It's so hot in those rooms, I am considering renting them out for Ashtanga Yoga classes. I have all but given up cooking- summer in the city is no time to turn on an oven, just the exertion of chopping means perspiration is the main seasoning in my homemade coleslaw.

Leaving the house is no better. It's for the foolhardy and employed only. As well as facing the roasting rubbish scented Eau de New York streets, you also have to pack a survival kit: Copious amounts of water, dollar bills to buy more water and a scarf in your bag to cover your arms when you go back into buildings with over zealous air cons. Take my office for example-better known to most as 'The New York Library'-it's the worst culprit. Never mind the petitions to stop closures, try making it a little less igloo and you'd save enough taxpayers money to solve the budget deficit.

The stifling heat is all to do with the humidity apparently. Am I alone in not knowing what that really means? Everyone is always banging on about it, but I don't really think anyone truly understands it. All I am certain of is that humidity is a city problem and my Mother would describe it as 'close', which is as nonsensical as the rest of what she says.

The American is a bit obsessed with humidity, mainly because it's another factor in his growing weather related arsenal against New York and in favour of his California homeland.

"Whiney whine whine New York weather whine whine whineyyyyyy." he says

"Uh huh." I say

"Blah blah blah terrible humidity."

"I know!"

"Na na noo na, not like this in California."

"Yeah?"

"La de da da lovely L.A. blah blah bad New York, la de da da DRY HEAT."

I didn't think it was possible to become more weather obsessed than when I lived in Cardiff, but since the start of Welsh Alien I have blogged about all the seasons and have now come full circle with Summer, or 'Satan's armpit' as I heard it referred to recently.

There are a few days of perfection in September and April. Precious Manhattan times when it's in the early 70's and the wind blows gently and no one needs clinical strength deodorant and everyone's in a good mood. I don't really remember them, I must have been inside blogging about the weather and missed them.

So what is the ultimate way to keep cool in the city? Aside from frolicking in a virus infected public pool like this foolish child?

I just stick my head in the freezer. Right in there. Ahhhhh. I have the perfect spot, between the ice lollies and the frozen prawns.

It is the only corner of Manhattan where true solace from the heat lies.

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There's a price on my head in Brooklyn

2010-06-21T14:34:00.000-07:00

The last piece of advice I had before going to Brighton Beach in Brooklyn, was "Don't upset the locals."

"Viiiiie you take my peecture vivout permission?" snarls an old Russian lady, after cursing me in her native tongue. The only Russian I know is 'Glasnost', 'Perestroika' and 'Double Vod-ka' and by her tone I guess she doesn't want to discuss any of those.

I also am pretty sure she won't appreciate a diatribe on how photojournalism relies on catching your subject unaware, so I lie and say I was taking a picture of the building behind her. She stares are me so intently I feel a piece of my soul breaking off and crumbling into dust.

From there on, it is not just my imagination that every other old lady on the beach is giving me stinking looks-The Teenager notices too. There is a price on my head with the elderly women of Brighton beach and I'm scared as they all have big umbrellas.

I continue to document our day at Little Odessa with my camera though. Hey, I've been chased out of town before, it's no big deal, especially when you've done the dreaded death knocks as a reporter. Sometimes then, there was Alsatians involved and I was on The Gurnos estate in Merthyr, so I am pretty robust.

After what seems like about three minutes tanning on the beach, The Teenager announces she is bored. I thought at 16, we had moved on from this hyper attention deficit problem, yet we enter into a bartering phrase about what time we can leave.

"Can we go at 3 p.m. Mum?"

"No."

"Can we leave at 3.30?

"No."

"3.15?"

"Huh?"

"I would go sooner that later if I was you."

"And why is that?"

"Cos there is another old Russian lady coming towards us and she's giving you like, proper evil stares."

So we pack up swiftly and make our way down to Coney Island by walking down the shoreline.

On the way a man is practising Yoga and he's doing the crab. On the beach. I am fighting to find the pun.

A mile down the coast and we arrive at Coney. The Russians are replaced by a motely crew of ghetto unfabulous, freaks, schoolkids, tourists and Manhattanites enjoying the 'irony'.

The Teenager and I wander up the boardwalk in the searing sunshine, burgers and doughnuts smoke in the air. We stop and stare at attractions like 'Shoot the freak' with it's real human target. I buy a cowboy hat and get the feeling I should be drunk or on hallucinagenics to fully appreciate the place. Everyone else apparently is-all sipping on what looks like giant plastic bongs full of Margarita. Maybe If I got wrecked I would wear a g-string in public?

We sit down by a seafood stall and watch the colour and craziness go by. I snap away with the camera and The Teenager threatens to get the train home on her own if I don't stop.

"Mother. For god's sake! Why won't you put the camera down?"

I pause thoughtfully and look wistfully at the sky and say: "I guess...it's because...you know, I want to document life wherever I go."

She says "Ugghhh. Because you are a *rolls eyes* bloody journalist?

And I say "Nah. Just because I'm a nosey cow."

And we both laugh until snowcone comes out of our noses.

And because nice moments are rare when your children are Teenagers, I take another picture, but this time in my head.

It's the best one of the day.

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