The display blinked then disappeared. He was alone again. The room around him seemed deeper and darker than before, the endless expanse of the internet having drifted off into the nothingness from which it came. Michael sat there watching the embers of his hard drive slowly grind to a halt,…
Don’t kid yourself. It may be warm and sunny right now, but winter is just around the corner. And whilst the prospect of freezing cold nights and debates about putting on the heating are nothing to look forward to, Kestin Hare’s Autumn/Winter 16 collection certainly is. Who Is Kestin Hare? In…
It’s cold up north. And even colder even further up north. It’s there where the winds curse and get bitterly into your being and make you hurt. Though there’s something in the frankness of the air, something about its cleanness that seems to produce such stark sights. Such captivating imagery. With its whites…
Let me start by saying I’m not a cleanse guy. Not at all. I’m a bacon sandwich and cigarette after the gym type of guy. Eight pints of beer on a Tuesday, spends Wednesday wondering why he feels so bad type of a guy. Slouched at the back of a…
When my father sleeps the mosquitos come out to feast.
I felt the warm wash of water over my skin. There was a sweetness in the air this evening. Why was I here? What was I letting myself in for? Would he even turn up this time? He’d text me only 2 hours prior, but now my messages weren’t getting…
A freedom to challenge convention and strive to always test ones-self has been the driving force behind the exciting, re-energised Swedish outdoor brand Klattermusen. For more than 30 years, what started as a project to solve outdoor clothing issues has evolved into one of the most creative, bold and prolific high-quality…
“See I’ve been thinking, the thing is. Ah fuck, man, it’s like this. If cocaine was free everything would be fucking great, wouldn’t it? I mean, imagine it; everywhere you go there’s free coke. You go to bars and there’s just a table full of the stuff. Fuck. Imagine it,…
From marionette bowed shoulders stretches sweetened coffee skin. A nude, dimpled four string moaning the low breaths of sunrise. The black stems on which you walk follow me.
Milan is a big city. A city that will empty you. You are punched by cars, trams, subways, pedestrians, tourists, chancers, bums, tat-sellers, fine women and gorgeous men the second you poke your head into its grey skies. Pallid, sooty ochre and fuchsia buildings line the streets. Precarious balconies overhang…
