It’s been a rough couple of weeks. Extra illness, extra stress & very little sleep have taken a toll. My mood has taken a nose dive. I’m battling a fairly substantial wave of anxiety & the urge to just hole up at home.
I am fighting, though. One of the things keeping me going is how far I’ve come. These lows will probably always hit, but it helps to know things are not as bad as they once were. On days like this reading my own dark words shine a tiny light through today’s depressive fog.
I’m hoping some sleep & resolving some of the stress inducers will alleviate this bout of blue. In the mean time I’ll be digging deep in my chest of resources to keep myself focused on the light.
Rest assured this boy is always looking after me.
Last night I pretended I was a hip young thing & went to The Twistettes album launch. Of course I am in fact a tired old thing so I didn’t stay until the end, but I did have a very good time. Also, today I’m broken.
The Twistettes are a riotous two piece. Before last night I did not realise they are sisters, somehow this knowledge increases their cool factor for me. The launch party for their new album A Strange Play was exactly the loud feminist event that I expected. Housed in the cellar club space of Stereo (excellent vegan food FYI). The night kicked off with Quotes of the Dead, a very enjoyable cross between 90’s girl attitude & early 00’s goth rock. Their set was followed by the most excellent Leyla Josephine. Her angry, amusing & awesome poetry really made my night. Give me 3mins of non earnest spoken word on the vagina & I’m sold.
Next to take the stage was The Honey Farm, possibly Scotland’s only female rap group. I didn’t expect to enjoy them quite as much as I did. Rap isn’t my preferred genre, but I suppose intelligent women with attitude can make anything agreeable. Girobabies turned out a buoyant performance & then it was time for the main act.
The Twistettes were absolutely worth tarting my old arse up for. For a two piece they create a tremendous onslaught of sound. Riot Grrrl influence was definitely in evidence with an undercurrent of 90’s indie rock chick. Their lyrics are captivating & I particularly loved the slightly spooky bent of the title track. Original material is intriguing, their encore covers were large & in charge. If powerful talented women are your thing, give this punkish duo a listen.
* Photo Credit – Stephen Black
On Monday the Toyboy & I headed off for our annual (it’s the 2nd year, that counts, right?) trip to the Edinburgh Fringe. Three days of exhausting, but fabulous adventures ensued.
Our first show of the 2018 fringe was Phil Jupitus is Porky the Poet in Living in A World Where They Through the Ducks at the Bread . That title is quite a mouth full as was some of this show, but in a good way. I’ll be honest, I only really knew Jupitus from Never Mind the Buzzcocks & it turns out I like his poetry much more than I liked that programme. His poetic style is silly & witty & heartwarming. His in between chat is also all of the above. I’m a spoken word/poetry fan, but I think even poetry virgins would enjoy Porky’s words. Oh & bonus I got a free badge that sums me up fairly accurately.
Voodoo Rooms is a perfect example of example of Edinburgh Festival venues. It’s down a lane, riddled with stairs & you’re packed in tight enough to lose circulation in your extremities. We made the mistake of trusting directions of a stranger (male, why can they never admit they don’t know?). We walked around in a massive circle before discovering the venue was about 2 minutes from where we started & on arrival I realised I had actually known where it was all along; I just didn’t know the street name. Anyway, what I’m trying to tell you is this is a quintessential festival experience. Finding most venues will become a magical mystery tour of possibly the least disabled friendly city in the world. Everything is up a hill & 3 dozen stairs. Spoonies beware or budget for a lot of taxis!
We acted the tourist for a little bit; had a lunch from a food truck & bought Edinburgh rock. Then I tortured the TB with outfit pictures before an outfit change & catching up with some Edinburgh based friends. After a few cocktails & much hilarity we headed off to our last show of the day.
The Waverley is just off bottom end of the Royal Mile. It looks like it hasn’t been decorated since 60’s & feels like it might house a tiny part of real festival spirit. In the upstairs room there was a sparse audience & a life size cut out of Billy Conolly declaring ‘This is where I started’. I’m not sure if that’s inspiring or just a kick in teeth to those playing a quiet room, but the woman we came to see gave it a spirited try. Becky Fury (that’s her real name) hinted that she perhaps wasn’t having her best night, but she did have some interesting takes on current state of politics. I suspect the show that emerges from her Edinburgh run will be more polished than Lip Salve for the Soul. In the meantime her Star Wars movie via Corbyn memes was funny. Her visual display of how dehumanisation happens, somehow Hillary Clinton faired worse in polls than terrorists, was insightful. Plus her off the cuff material on my breasts was actually pretty fucking amusing. Anyone who can make ‘that’s how genocide happens’ a punchline & get me to laugh when the size of my tits is publicly discussed has got to have talent. I’d say book early for her 2019 show, it’ll be a cracker.
With only two shows under our belts we grabbed some very expensive fast food & headed back to our apartment. We needed a bit of rest because Tuesday was jam packed. Stay tuned for everything from medieval disco theatre to serial killer book podcasts all viewed with eyes adorned in razor sharp liner.
I had a few rough weeks, but I’m slowly getting back into the whole life thing. I have done some pretty cool things & knocked out some damn fine outfits this past week. Unfortunately I’ve entirely failed to get any photos worthy of an actual outfit post, so I’m giving you a mish mash medley of my doings.
Last weekend was a bank holiday & the sun decided to show up. Of course the entire of population of Glasgow rushed outside to soak up the vitamin d & shed their clothes. I happily joined them. On Sunday the Toyboy & I headed west to check out another Overheard in the Westend. Before enjoying the spoken word & music in the cavernous Inn Deep we had a drink by the river. All in all a perfect holiday Sunday in the sun.
Pinafore & Kimono – Asos Curve
On Tuesday we ventured out to see my all time favourite comedian Luisa Omielan. Her feminist, body positive routines are both inspiring & hilarious. Her latest show Politics for Bitches (for BBC3) goes even further. She’s taking comedy to new places by talking about our political landscape, the inequalities that created it & what we can do to grab back some power. The show in classic Luisa style is empowering, but with poignant moments as she shares her experiences of her mother’s brutal cancer journey & tragic death. She is filming in various locations, check her out if she hits your city.
Dress – Forever 21
I had to squeeze in a little medical treatment this week too, which left me tired & my body very tender. The rain arrived along with my fatigue meaning it was time for a cinema day. So, I ditched my underwire, slipped into a soft dress & met my fav Mummy & son pair at Cineworld. We saw The Guersney Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. The film was good; made me blub a little, but ultimately a happy ending. However, the best moment was definitely my nephew loudly filling his nappy during the big romantic scene. I love that boy. The film is worth a watch if you like a bit of period romance with stunning scenery & excellent retro fashions.
Dress – Primark
Now for the random likely section. I did a little thrifting this. Also a wee bit of bargain shopping. My bigger nephew turned 2, but is on holiday, so I prepped for his return. I obviously painted my nails, made some faces with my niece & clicked pics of generally pleasing things. I hope you likey too.
Ring – Glad Rags
I didn’t have time to mark World Poetry Day through the week, but it would make me sad to ignore it all together. I’ve been smitten with the art form for as long as I can remember. It has basically provided me with a literary landscape to wander around with my feelings. Thus, I must pay homage to some poetic masters & share a few lines of my own.
What better place to start than with Plath. I suspect Sylvia Plath is probably a favourite of every girl who’s had a brush with crazy. I actually read her prose before her poetry, but obviously fell hard immediately upon discovering her poetic genius. This is one of my favourites because it mixes prime fucked up Sylvia with some classic romantic imagery.
Melissa Lozada-Oliva is new discovery, but I can’t get enough of her. Her work covers feminism & race & more. She gets right to the nitty gritty of the female of colour experience with both clarity & humour. I love the structure of her poems & the words she chooses to place her emphasis on.
Maya Angelou is another writer whose poetry came second to me. I read her autobiographies first & once I had begun reading her words I never wanted to stop. Every single line she ever put to paper is so utterly & completely Maya. A women who knows who she is & embodies herself in everything she does is the ultimate inspiration. Her poetry gives me life, which I believe is exactly what she intended it do.
Which just leaves me. I wrote a lot more poetry in my darker days. It seems my mind reaches peak poetic prowess when in despair. So, this one’s an oldie.