Can us Brits ever hope to master the art of savoir vivre? We get a lesson in Frenchologie

Why is it that French women are, on the whole, so much more stylish and self-possessed than the rest of the continent? Is it because they invented the word chic?

I think it’s largely down to fashion, but according to Tamiko Zablith it’s got a lot to do with attitude. You won’t find Gallic ladies fumbling with which knife to use when dining at a posh restaurant, she says, nor will they struggle through small talk at a party, eking out mundane weather chat because they can’t think of anything else to talk about. That’s because they’re well-versed in the art of savoir vivre – the French term that means ‘to know how to live’ or, essentially, how to get the most out of life.

Zablith, of Minding Manners, was on hand to deliver a lesson in French etiquette last Monday night at the launch of Frenchologie.com, and Jo and I were there, hoping to pick up some pearls of Parisian wisdom.

 

Frenchologie is an online store stocking only French made and designed wares. From heels to homeware, jewellery to jams, the selection is curated by founders Beatrice Drovandi and Cécilia Cauville to cater to your every je ne sais quoi.

So, what did we learn in our Frenchologie lesson last week? Here are three top tips I took away:

1. At parties, always hold your drink in your left hand. That way you’re ever ready to shake hands with your right and don’t have to hastily swap your drink over or, worse still, go in for one of those clumsy opposite hand shakes.
2. Relinquish that oh so British desire to talk about the weather in social settings. Beatrice Drovandi and Cécilia CauvilleThe French love a debate so make sure you’re up to date with culture and current affairs and be prepared to argue your corner.
3. Don’t feel that you have to wear a suit in all business and formal occasions. Take your style cues from the likes of Charlotte Gainsbourg and Vanessa Paradis and inject a bit of insouciance into your wardrobe.

After the talk, we were treated to a cheese and wine tasting session. The swooningly French owner of wine bar Antidote off Carnaby Street, where the event was held, talked us through a fromage menu straight from the supplier of many of London’s Michelin starred restaurants. A soft, tangy goat’s cheese spread thickly on crusty brown bread and drizzled with &Terra rosemary honey (available from Frenchologie) was my favourite – it was so divine I swear it made my taste buds shout ooh la la.

Click through the gallery below to check out some of the fine Frenchologie pieces that were on show last week (including Jo modelling some very cool jewellery), and gawp at the cheese and charcuterie porn. Warning: this is probably going to make you very hungry.

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I love Made in Chelsea and I’m not afraid to say it.

Yes, they’re laughably posh, and yes, you’re never quite sure if they’re actually, genuinely like that – but did they deserve their BAFTA? Of course they did.

Many reasonable folk hate Made in Chelsea. And that, sir, is fine. Only it’s actually quite good.

I am a regrettable advocate of trash TV; I have been known to get hooked on all things ‘reality’ (particular favourites include The Hills, Laguna Beach – basically the same thing – and Chasing the Saturdays), essentially because it’s like being friends with really cool, pretty, rich and dramatic people, but with none of the negatives. Such downsides as having to spend a fortune to keep up with their overblown lifestyles, engaging in shouting matches in some club or other, and having to wear make-up every day are taken out of the equation. Me and my box set are just curious socio-spectators egging on our two-dimensional champions in the battle of Real Life.

I have deduced that in amongst the back-stabbing, bitching, almighty rows and amazing apartments, there is a key ingredient in these, to use the technical term, ‘scripted reality’ shows that we, as viewers, need: jealousy. This is why I’m not a watcher of TOWIE – I have next to no desire to be them, to share in their lives, and I sure as hell don’t want their wardrobes. I might casually watch if I can’t find the remote, but I can’t root for them. They’re just too much.

Arguably, MIC (yes I use the acronyms, for I am a superfan) could face the same criticism. Like TOWIE, it falls under the category of social caricaturing and thus my parents and other sane human beings find it physically repulsive, especially the endless endless awkward pauses between dialogues. Except – and answer this honestly – who doesn’t want a Chelsea life?

Multi-million pound houses, fast cars, parties, endless dinners and drinks and designer wardrobes with that sense of wealth that you can’t buy; this is the life that produced Cara Delevingne! (She grew up in Belgravia). Call me shallow, but if that was my life, I’d assume I’d Made It. Unfortunately, tuning in to Made in Chelsea once a week is probably the closest I’ll ever get – and that’s why I love it so much.

It partly has to do with my embarrassingly rose-tinted view of London – a view which apparently the camera man of MIC shares, because it is always sunny – as a city paved with success and youthful optimism. Kinda like how Alicia Keys feels/yells about New York, I guess. In the same way I’ll browse photos of A-listers in Cannes or at NYFW with the almost melancholy sense that this is a life I’ll never have, Made in Chelsea provides me with three important things – a weekly fix of new iTunes purchases, a hankering for a fur gilet and most importantly, a good hard dose of London ambition.

Nailing it part 2: Summer nail designs worth perfecting

Have you ever read the book Outliers? Well, if not, in a nutshell it tells you how no one gets good at anything without practice – around 10,000 hours to be exact. And if you saw my nail art post a few months back you may know that I have a new hobby, and have been spending many Sunday afternoons steadily becoming more and more light-headed through using copious amounts of nail varnish remover and learning to steady my shaky hands.

Actually that post now makes me cringe, but proves the Outliers theory about practice being key. All I can say is thank goodness for the likes of Pinterest and YouTube who are currently playing a major role in my nail education and to my friends who are now letting me butcher prettify their paws..

The idea for the Diet Coke cans were spied by our Katie on Twitter, and I am currently attempting to perfect them for her…

Bananas, watermelons, kiwis and strawberries complete my ‘fruit salad’ wheel…

Whilst I picked these neon colours up (four in a pack) for only £2 in good old Primark to attempt this Aztec-y neon design.  You may be able to see I am yet to perfect straight lines…

And here is my attempt at the Roy Lichtenstein pop art design…

So that is my current selection guys!  If you see any designs, have any great tips or would like your nails doing do get in touch and help a sister out.

In Pursuit of Magic – Style & Then Some does New York City

My first impression of New York was “What are these people thinking, blocking out the sun with their stupid skyscrapers?”

That was on my first day in Manhattan, stood on Lexington Avenue facing the Waldorf Astoria hotel and with a nice view of the Art Deco Chrysler Building if I craned my neck and looked downtown.

I hadn’t realised that apart from Central Park and pockets of open space like the Rockefeller Plaza and the steps of the New York Public Library, Manhattan was … shady. NYC is still seen as the capital of the western world, if not the whole world, and it’s partly because of its mammoth, manmade skyline. OK the tallest buildings on earth might be elsewhere (the Burf Khalifa etc) yet only New York has the clout to pull its commanding presence off.

That said, scuttling past buildings so tall they blocked out the sun for well, whole blocks felt weirdly unnatural to me at first.

A couple of days later, I could appreciate that just as I’d get no work done in a Mediterranean country, New York’s peculiar atmosphere of sun and shade motivates everyone to get great things done. Everyday. Then have a bike ride and picnic in the park on the weekend.

Still deciding which music festival to go to? Try the festival finder

Right in time for the music festival season, thetrainline.com has introduced their new U.K festival finder website.

Attending a music festival is practically a rite of passage for modern day young adults, correct? To have reached your mid-twenties without doing so could be considered a little strange, possibly? Well unfortunately I fall into the latter category, although I did try to rectify the situation a few years back and began researching various festivals happening around the UK. Two years later and I am still in the same position after never managing to settle on one particular festival I felt catered to all my music loving needs and that of my friends. Thankfully, thetrainline.com have created their own online festival finder where you can select a group of your favourite performers then it helps you gauge which festival best suits your individual music preferences.

What is great about the festival finder is that if you’re struggling to remember the artists you would like to see live, the website lists a large number of acts set to perform on one of the various UK stages – therefore allowing you to simply pick and click away. If your taste is especially eclectic and you are struggling to find an event that stands out, the online search engine still lets you know the specific festival your choices are playing at. Also, whether or not the venue in question has sold out, what ticket prices are and dates of the occasion.

Music festival tickets aren’t exactly cheap, so making sure to choose the right one for you is an important yet increasingly difficult task considering just how many there are to choose from nowadays. And that just goes for the UK, I’m not even taking into account the various festivals that happen throughout Europe and the rest of the world each year (see Helen’s recent Coachella style overview).

Maybe things will be easier now for all us indecisive folk. Who knows, with the help of the festival finder and Jo’s recent Glastonbury packing essentials post, I may have finally lost my music festival virginity by next year.

Pulling sweet teeth: The week I tried to kick my sugar habit

Unless you actually are Candice Swanepoel, an evening of back-to-back Victoria’s Secret shows does not make for easy viewing, I can assure you. However, after watching the 6ft angels at work, I decided to kick my bad habits and dare I say it, acquire a ‘bikini bod’ in time for summer. Or at least, try.

I’ve watched the interviews with Miranda Kerr and heard her waxing healthy about the benefits of ruddy quinoa and coconut milk – and as much as it’s lost on me, I can’t deny the woman looks good. I know what my downfall is; sugar. What I have is a genuine, all-consuming craving for sweets. Not just idle ’I fancy a Percy Pig’ thoughts - I’m talking choking on Haribo because you’ve just poured the whole bag into your mouth. I react like a rabid dog if someone asks for a Minstrel from my ‘Bag to Share!’ 

So I knew what I had to do: cut out sugar.

Bella Blissett in her article ‘Sweet Freedom’ in the May issue of Elle magazine, assures me that within about a week, my cravings will diminish and eventually cease. So it is with this hope that I push my trolley around the supermarket, walking straight past the cherry bakewells, to the fruit and veg. And eight portions of fresh food later, not to mention some oily fish, rice, lemon juice and several other healthy looking foodstuffs, my new life as a lean mean six-pack machine begins.

Day one, and it’s all going swimmingly. Yoga before a breakfast of muesli, lunch of a Waldorf salad, and a dinner of salmon and vegetables. And then I steal one of my housemate’s chocolate digestives because I figure it’s unrealistic to go cold turkey straight away. Jeez, I’m not Gwyneth Paltrow.

Unfortunately by day three, all the digestives have gone and sorry, a carrot doesn’t cut the craving. I just want a Fruit Pastille, for God’s sake. Maybe a Tooty Fruity.

For work on day four, I forgo an inevitably wilted salad and plump for a Mediterranean tuna bagel. But unfortunately I overfill it, and all the tuna comes out. The tomato salsa makes my lunchbox look like a crime scene and it stinks to high heaven so I abandon it and eat some sesame seeds. So very hungry.

By the weekend I’m going to the cinema, and you physically cannot watch a film without pick ‘n’ mix, so I load up on cherry cola bottles – they’re gone before film starts.

Throughout the next few days, I try to be as creative as possible – honey glazes for salmon, banana splits, sweet potato mash, endless endless seeds. But the difficult thing is, I don’t feel any better for it. I’m still tired, and grumpy, except now I don’t have Jelly Babies for company. I know I hit a low point when I shakily text my boyfriend around 11pm, ‘Please. Just get me a f***ing cookie.’

Yesterday, whilst desperately eating teaspoons of dry hot chocolate powder out of the tub, I realise, this is what addiction feels like. Eventually I figure inhaling/eating powder is never a good destination, so I go and I get a Caramac, and feel great.

I’m not knocking the healthy lifestyle – I have a new-found love for salmon salads, and I do really like vegetables. And if other women can survive sugar-free, well done them; they are stronger and inevitably healthier people than me. But as a contract with Victoria’s Secret really isn’t on the cards for me, I can’t justify being miserable for the sake of a few inches of thigh-squidge. I don’t drink, smoke, eat fried food or much dairy. Just for Heaven’s sake – let me eat cake.

Have you ever tried to cut down on sugar? How did it go? Hints and tips gratefully received in the comments section.

Can you make the perfect bloomer loaf at home? I put Paul Hollywood’s recipe to the test

A few weeks ago, I had the sudden urge to bake my own bread. I longed for a thick slice of crusty white toast with butter and honey – and that cathartic release that only bashing about a lump of stretchy dough can bring. Plus I’d read somewhere that supermarket bread is often full of sugar and other nasties so I wanted to create as naked a loaf as possible.

So I had a go, using the first recipe that Google brought forth. Truth be told, it wasn’t very good. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t golden and crusty and chewy and tasty in the way great bread is supposed to be. Then lo and behold, my prayers were answered when Great British Bake Off’s finest, Paul Hollywood, goes and gets his own BBC TV series called Bread and the very first type of bread he make is a white bloomer loaf. Watching the episode I was amazed at how different Hollywood’s recipe and technique were to mine, and I resolved to replicate them. The resulting loaf far exceeded my previous paltry attempt, and my subsequent two loaves have been even better. I can’t recommend it enough.

So, here’s Paul Hollywood’s bloomer recipe as interpreted by yours truly, with all his excellent tips from the TV show thrown in.

Ingredients

500g strong white bread flower, plus extra for dusting

10g salt

7g fast-action dried or quick yeast

40ml olive oil, plus extra for oiling

300ml water

1. Tip the flour into a large mixing bowl. Add the salt to one side of the bowl and the yeast to the other (they can’t mix yet or it kills the yeast) then add the oil and 240ml cool water and mix it together using your hand in a claw shape (dinosaur growling sounds optional at this point). Gradually add in the rest of the water until you’ve got a sticky dough.

Paul’s tip: You might not need all the water. Stop adding it once all the flour is absorbed.

2. Knead the dough by working it firmly on the work surface until it has turned from a rough texture (a bit like cellulite to be honest) into a smooth and springy ball.

Paul’s tip: Use about a tablespoon of oil on the work surface to stop it sticking and make it easier to knead. Just don’t use too much or it absorbs into the dough and makes it too sticky.

3. Put the dough in a large, lightly oiled bowl and cover with clingfilm until it has tripled in size, which will take up to three hours.

Paul’s tip: The dough doesn’t need to go somewhere hot to rise, between 18 and 24 degrees will do. (My house is freezing though so I put it on a tea towel on the radiator in winter).

It should go from this:

To this:

4. Take the risen dough out and ‘knock it back’ by tipping it onto your work surface and simply bashing it flat into roughly a rectangle. To shape it into a bloomer, fold the ends into the middle, flatten it again, then fold the other ends in and flatten again. Curl the ends under and you should end up with an oval loaf shape.

Paul’s tip: try and get the dough into a nice fat oval so that it rises up rather than out in the oven (my first bloomer was flatter than it should have been for this very reason).

5. Put the dough on an oiled, floured tray and cover with oiled cling film suspended over a couple of mugs on the tray. Leave it to prove (that’s what they call the second rise) again until it’s doubled in size, about an hour.

Paul’s tip: You’ll know the bread is ready to bake if it springs back when you press it with your finger.

6. Preheat the oven to 220ºc/gas mark 7 and put a roasting tray in the bottom of the oven. Lightly spray or sprinkle the dough with water and then flour and make a few diagonal slashes across the top with a sharp knife.

Paul’s tip: The water and flower will help create a nice crust, while the slashes stop cracks forming anywhere else. (But you need a VERY sharp knife to make them, I tried with a less than sharp knife and ended up significantly deflating my loaf).

7. Just before the loaf goes in, pour a litre of water into the roasting tin to create steam around the bread. Bake for 25 minutes then lower the temperature to 200ºC and bake for 10-15 minutes more. You’ll know the bread is ready if it sounds hollow when you tap the bottom. Put it on a wire wrack to cool.

Paul’s tip: Don’t worry if the crust browns very quickly. I thought my loaf was done because it had gone very brown but I realised after taking it out of the oven the bottom was still slightly damp and had to put it back in for another 10 minutes.

And you should end up with something that looks a bit like this…

From pollen to Prevalin – putting hayfever remedies to the test

If, like me, you’re prone to hay fever, you’ll want a robust prevention strategy to limit the twenty-in-a-row sneezing episodes that can result in ligament damage or the weepy eyes which co-workers misconstrue as the awkward, broad-spectrum ‘boyfriend trouble’ that strike this time of year. Here’s my advice on how to combat hateful hayfever.

As usual, I can only give general advice about tinctures and tonics that have helped me and when taking any medicine (herbal or conventional) make sure it’s safe and suitable for you.  I can’t claim any medical acclaim here….

Right, so one thing I’m trying is natural remedies as I always prefer to see what can be done before resorting to the strong stuff.  Having read numerous articles on alternative therapies.  These are some of the recommended remedies:

Bee Pollen – tastes horrendous so make sure you mix it well with cereal, smoothies, Nutella….whatever masks the flavour.

Nettle tea – easy to buy from health food shops and supermarkets

Prevalin Nasal Spray – normal nasal sprays contain steroids so if you’re looking to avoid chemical solutions try this alternative.

Vitamins – by keeping your immune system strong, the effects of the allergy response will be less brutal.  Quercetin is an antioxidant which also acts as a natural anti-histamine.  Find supplements containing Quercetin and vitamin C to build up a defence.  Eating and sleeping well will also boost your immunity, giving you added resistance.

I find the usual advice about staying indoors and wearing wrap-around sunglasses a bit ‘meh’ as I don’t particularly want to do either.  Wrap-around sunnies are not really for me and, as much as  I won’t rub my face on the grass, I’m not staying in a closed-window flat all summer…hence why I’m chomping down on bee pollen and nettle derivatives. 

Failing all that, get your mitts on the conventional antihistamine tablets (I find the own-brand versions work just as well as the branded), eye drops or spray and make sure you keep up a consistent approach throughout the hayfever season, not just using the medication when you’re experiencing symptoms.

Good luck!

Are men now spending more time grooming before a date than women?

Sometimes something lands in my inbox that makes me question my fellow human beings.  The new ‘date-onomics’ poll, conducted by MSN is a prime example.  This new poll consists of data gathered from two thousand participants (men and women) regarding their dating lives and the results, quite frankly, leave me wanting to gauge my eyes out. 

For instance, did you know (according to MSN) men are now spending more on grooming before a first night of passion than women are? Nope, neither did I.  Nor did I realise that before a red-hot date, men are now investing in new bed linen, Columbian waxes (I don’t even want to visualise this one) and facials.  Now, if you are a member of the male species and you do partake in this behaviour, fair enough.  But I am pretty sure this poll must have been conducted either in The City, Liverpool town centre, or perhaps Romford, as I am hella sure if I interviewed one thousand men in the Yorkshire Dales I would get somewhat different results.  I have no problem whatsoever with male grooming, in actual fact male-only salons are a burgeoning market. But if this poll has been devised to make me believe all men are behaving this way, then I must be in Lala land…or just dating the guys that wear really bad underwear.

Don’t overlook the printed book | World Book Night

While YouGov reported a substantial increase in sales of the Amazon Kindle Fire e-reader last week, World Book Night, which took place on Tuesday, appealed to the globe not to overlook the printed book.

There’s no denying that devices such as the Kindle Fire are amazing wee inventions, but despite this, I have no desire to possess one. When it comes to books, in my opinion, nothing much beats that feeling of satisfaction once you are fully immersed in a great page-turner and the proof can be physically felt and seen from the thick wad of read pages clasped in your hand.

Perhaps I’m just easily pleased, but in light of World Book Night earlier this week – an event which celebrates reading of the printed book – I decided to do something I hadn’t done in a while. Instead of having a quick scan of Amazon, I stopped by my local book store to have a thorough look at the latest titles available on the shelves. In this digital age it can be easy to forget what a truly pleasurable experience browsing around a book shop can be, even without looking for anything specific; from that thrill of coming across a surprisingly interesting title, to actually getting to hold and quickly flick through a book you were actively seeking out.

True to typical book store form, the atmosphere was extremely chilled and I ended up purchasing three fantastic books. First up, 23 Things They Don’t Tell You About Capitalism by economist and Cambridge University lecturer Ha-Joon Chang. Simply because at the tender age of 24 I have finally decided to find out how the world actually works – it’s about time really. Secondly, Chavs: The Demonization of the Working Class by The Independent columnist Owen Jones, because I have been guilty of laughing at chavs from time to time (Jeremy Kyle anyone?) when I should really know better. The third book was Anne Frank‘s Diary, embarrassingly enough I decided to buy this after the recent Justin Bieber furore (in which he remarked that she may have been a fan of his. For goodness sake) made me realise I had never actually read it.

In support of World Book Night, The Guardian online has compiled a list of quotes by famous writers in a bid to encourage more people to delve into a good book, see it here. Visit the World Book Night website at www.worldbooknight.org.

Instagram envy is ruining my life – but I just can’t quit

With more and more of us communicating visually, I find myself checking Instagram for updates far more than I check Facebook. So, I ask, who needs words when you’ve got heavily edited pictures?

In the days of yore before I got myself an iPhone, I envied the Instagrammers. The members of Instagram, the photo sharing website and app, seemed to live in a perpetual summer, where it was acceptable to post daily pictures of your healthy breakfast simply because it’s such a damn nice photo. In fact, not  just acceptable, but you get likes from other users to reaffirm your choice of smoothie, and can give your brekkie a self-congratulatory hashtag like #bodyisatemple to boot.

But then I got an Instagram account myself and I realised even the best filter (I’m saying Earlybird – what are you saying?) does not make my life cool. I’ve uploaded pictures of my dad’s 60^th birthday cake, a book, my shoes, Elle magazine…all for the sole purpose of saying, ‘this is how I’m living my life’, which would all be very well and good, if it were not cruelly juxtaposed with the way others were living their lives. And when you’re following the likes of Alexa Chung, Miranda Kerr, Chiara Ferragni and Poppy Delevingne, no amount of sepia tone can make a shot of my Primark boots compare to those model beauties with their perfect Insta-lives.

The problem is that Instagram feeds you two kinds of lies:

1. Life is idyllic. All the time. By making an otherwise mediocre photo (I’m no Annie Leibovitz) appear as if it were taken in the 1970′s, what is actually happening in real life is as idyllic as on the screen. Thus you look back at the memory, thinking, ‘my, that Kerouac-esque road trip we went on to Tesco sure was fun.’

Real world

Insta-world

2. Celebrities are your friends. Much like Twitter, Insta-follows do not equate to actual friendship. This is all the more galling when you’re scrolling through your feed, and in amongst your friend’s dog, friend’s nail varnish, friend and boyfriend, there’s supermodels Karlie Kloss in New York. Like the luckiest, richest most annoyingly successful friend in the world.

And, yes, I admit, all this institutionalised jealousy is my own doing. I decided to follow exclusively supermodels and actresses, and I choose to relentlessly refresh to get another toxic hit of a beach, a red carpet, a catwalk. Worryingly, I feel myself changing as a result; last week I went to Instagram the floor of my hairdressers to tell everyone I was getting a haircut. I plan nights out with my best friends on the promise of some flattering, hipster photos gracing the internet the next day. I no longer consider a photo to be ‘good’ unless it’s had the Instagram treatment.

All this has culminated in my general avoidance of mirrors, lest they should show me how my face looks in real life. It’s a tough life, but here’s hoping that one day I get to actually go to Coachella like the rest of my celeb pals, instead of photographing my back garden and putting it through the Nashville filter.

Glastonbury packing essentials

Having secured a  much-coveted Glastonbury ticket and with Coachella festival images burnt into our minds, I’m starting to create a mental packing-list….I bloody love a list.  I don’t want to be that girl who packs way too much stuff ‘just in case’ but on the other hand I can’t survive five days with just a cagoule and a packet of paracetamol.

I think I’ve come to terms with the fact that I won’t be confused with Kate Bosworth in teeny lace shorts and delicate daisy-chain jewellery but I’d rather not look like a mum-on-a-school-trip, all sturdy shoes and SPF 50. Obviously the weather is a tricky little fiend, we could be basking in record-breaking June temperatures or using our sleeping bags as a second jacket if a frost sets in.  I can’t even envisage the packing complications if heavy rain is predicted…please god no.

 

Toiletries – thank the lord for the holiday section in Boots which stocks a mini-everything.  Toothpaste, shampoo and face wash can all be purchased in petite.  Don’t forget these other must-haves:

Avene Cicalfate – antibacterial cream for sunburn, spots, bites, scratches….

 

 

Cheap sunglasses – you’ll break/lose them.  Leave the posh ones at home:

Rehydration salts – hangover remedy:

 

 

Antihistamine – could come in handy if you’re a city-dweller and find you’ve got an aversion to country air and/or grass pollen:

Most things you can trade with friends so don’t pack for every eventuality. One thing is certain, Glastonbury will be more trainers and backpacks than hair stylists and vintage couture.  Phew.

Is social media stopping us from living in the moment? | Part 2

I came across a story in the entertainment section of the BBC website which I felt echoed the sentiments of an earlier blog post of mine. The subject of which we have all been a victim of at some point, maybe even been the perpetrator ourselves on occasion…

As if worrying about finding a half decent spot at a gig which allows you to actually see the band isn’t hard enough, we now have to contend with an array of smartphone wielding, vision obscuring pests. In these instances you have few options; either knock the phone out their hand and risk getting punched , grit your teeth and bear it or if you are feeling especially brave and confident you can compete with the noise, ask (yell at) them politely to stop. But what if we could skip all this and more performers followed Indy band, the Yeah Yeah Yeah’s example, who recently appealed to the audience at their New York gig to refrain from filming their set. This was reminiscent of Stone Roses frontman, Ian Brown’s announcement to a crowd last year that, “If you put your cameras down you might be able to live in the moment. You have a memory there of something you’ve never lived.”

I applaud the likes of Ian Brown and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs – not only for lead singer, Karen O’s amazing style – but for taking into consideration their NYC fan’s visual enjoyment and being concerned with preserving the artistic integrity of their performance. After all, what really is the point of seeing a band live if you are just going to watch the show through a lens? This is where the parallels between my previous blog entry ‘Is social media stopping us from living in the moment?’ and this recent report became apparent. In it I talked about the time I pretty much ruined a short trip to New York by concentrating more on taking as many pictures as possible as opposed to actually looking around and drinking in such an amazing city with my own two eyes.

After the Yeah Yeah Yeahs aforementioned plea hit the headlines, a discussion ensued on BBC Breakfast asking for comedian, Marcus Brigstocke and musician, Graham Lambert’s views on whether or not spectators of every artistic discipline should no longer be allowed to film live performances. Lambert, a member of the band, Inspiral Carpets was quick to point out that his group welcomes it and are thankful for the free publicity it brings, as it has now become an indispensable way of lesser known acts gaining more recognition. looking at it that way, am I maybe wrong to condemn it?

Margaret who? A young person’s guide to the legacy of Mrs Thatcher

The death of Margaret Thatcher left a lot of young people confused as to what to think or feel – myself included. Was she a hero or a villain? I attempted to find out.

On a good day, I like to think of myself as pretty intelligent.

I’ve been through the state education system and I’m a matter of days away from acquiring a Theology degree. So why, upon the death last week of Margaret Thatcher, Britain’s first woman prime minister, was my first thought, ‘what’s the big deal?’

Adults around the country will be lamenting my youthful ignorance, I’ve no doubt. To be fair, so am I. The extent of what I know about Margaret Thatcher is derived only from that Meryl Streep film, and I am not proud of that fact. I could mutter something about miners and strikes, but that would be my knowledge exhausted.

Perhaps I belong to the inbetweener generation that is too young to remember Thatcherism happening (I was born in 1991), yet too old to be taught about it in school. And despite this gaping hole in our cultural understanding, we are not without opinion. Just consulting my Facebook feed on Monday evening, reactions ranged from ‘bless her, she made Britain great’, to ‘she pioneered active feminism’, to a picture of Maggie as Hitler –  which I felt was a tad strong, really – followed by an overwhelming surge of, ‘why do you care, you weren’t even alive?’ questioning. All of which culminated in this article trending on Facebook. We sure are opinionated for essentially ignorant youngsters.

And so I provide fellow enquiring minds with this short guide to Margaret Thatcher. From both the extensive news coverage and the whistle-stop tour of Thatcher politics provided by my Dad on the way home from Pizza Express, I have gleaned thus:

1. She didn’t much like unions.
2. She was able to take on striking unions by stockpiling coal.
3. She served three terms as Prime Minister.
4. She introduced a Poll Tax that no one liked.
5. She could certainly work a string of pearls.

(Neither my Dad nor Andrew Marr provided the last point.)

It appears that in some way, today’s teens and early twenty-somethings simply lift their political hang-ups straight from their parents, which usually feature such disgruntled pop-observations as: she stole children’s milk and screwed over British industry but also allowed people to buy council houses. So there’s a silver lining.

Like any other politician, Margaret Thatcher did some things right and some things wrong. Perhaps we’ll all become politically enlightened by her posthumous presence. Perhaps her legacy is simply to invoke such passionate reactions in the general public; the good, the bad and the completely uneducated. Whilst knowledge of her policies has not necessarily been handed down the generations – not to me at least – it seems what has filtered through is the strength of feeling behind her premiership. And perhaps sometime soon, I’ll work out what on earth ‘the lady’s not for turning’ actually means.

Want to see a really cool magic trick? Last night we got up close and magical with O2 Refresh

Last night, Helen and I went to by far the most magical blogger event we’ve ever been to.

Held at swanky cabaret bar Circus in Covent Garden, we got the party started with some zingy refreshing cocktails and super fresh sashimi canapes (can you see a theme emerging yet?) served from platters smouldering with dry ice.

Next, magician Oliver B took to the stage and performed some mightily impressive mind-reading tricks that had us scratching our heads for the rest of the night – he also had us in stitches when he ended the show by stripping off his black suit to reveal some seriously questionable undergarments. It has to be seen to be believed.

Later, after watching a host of mind-boggling acrobatics and burlesque dancers do their thing, we were whisked away for a very special private audience with Oliver, where he helped me to magically upgrade my phone in the blink of an eye. Check it out in this video:

Pretty good eh? The party was held to celebrate the launch of O2 Refresh, a new service launched last week that lets you upgrade – or refresh - your phone in a similarly snappy style, as often as you want, while keeping the same tariff.

Lucky little me, I got to take home my refreshed phone. It’s a Sony Xperia Z, the smartphone that Stuff magazine named as their number one smartphone (before it was knocked into second place). The great thing about this phone is that as well as a slick design and loads of whizz-bang gadgety features, it’s completely waterproof. It can be submerged for up to half an hour, which, as anyone who has ever suffered the indignity of dropping their phone in the toilet can attest, is a very good thing.

Oliver B will be out and about this Thursday delivering more magical moments around London. Visit @O2 on Twitter and Facebook to find out where you can get your phone magically refreshed.

Super-health muffins

I’m not going to pretend these are as indulgent as a little pastry-somethin’ from your coffee-emporium-of-choice, but considering they’re pretty healthy, they don’t taste like sawdust.  Promise.

The banana, coconut oil, berries and agave nectar satisfy sweet cravings and being packed with fruit means it’s a lot easier to increase your daily quota.  Seeds and nuts also add minerals and ‘good fats’ making them even more nutritious.   At 11am with a tea (herbal, obvs), you’ll  hardly miss the shop-bought variety.  The best thing about this recipe is that you can add whatever you fancy or throw in fruit that is perhaps past its best to avoid chucking it.  Make them chocolatey by adding organic cocoa nibs for a guilt-free fix or lemon yoghurt for added zing.

Cook a batch at the weekend and freeze.  Heat in the microwave for a warming work snack, as a super-quick breakfast or with ice-cream for a delicious dessert.  Cinnamon, berries and coconut oil are renowned for possessing superfood qualities and they’re relatively cheap to make.  Substitute fresh for frozen berries (which are loads cheaper and frequently on offer) and if we’re talking top-tips, coconut oil is also a beauty product so you can switch it between  your skincare regime and the pantry.

I’ve made these avoiding gluten, dairy and sugar – amend ingredients to suit your personal preferences/intolerance. I’ve used organic products where I can but you can substitute these as needed.

Ingredients:

225g Organic Spelt Flour

2 tsp Baking Powder

2 Large Organic Eggs

50g Melted Organic Coconut Oil

175ml Organic Rice Milk

50ml Agave Nectar

70g Blueberries

70g Raspberries

1 x Banana

2 tsp Mixed Seeds

1 tsp Ground Cinnamon 

You can also add: flaked coconut, chopped nuts, dried fruit, flaked almonds, orange zest….whatever.

Method (makes 12):

• Preheat oven to 200C/Gas mark 6/Fan-assisted 180C lightly grease a muffin tin.
• Add flour and baking powder to one dry-mix bowl.  Beat eggs into a wet-mix bowl, adding the coconut oil, rice milk and agave nectar.
• Add the wet-mix bowl to the dry ingredients to form a lumpy mixture, don’t-over-mix.
• Separate into muffin tray and cook for 25 minutes.
• Keep in airtight containers or freeze for up to a month

Too easy.

Help! I’m climbing some mountains and my training has to start now

Some people run marathons and some people can’t even get up on time on a Sunday morning to meet them at the finish line.

I’m in the latter camp and so it was that I told family and friends I plan to climb three mountains in July. And many of them predicted death.

The Three Peaks to be exact – Ben Nevis in Scotland, Scafell Pike in England and Snowdon in Wales make up the highest peaks in those three countries. The challenge is usually done in 24 hours but my group is tackling it in three days.

Yes, the stairs up to my third floor flat are steep but other than hurtling up and down those and walking to and from stations I haven’t exactly started my training yet. But with just less than three months to go, I’m writing this post to spur myself on to do something about it.

First up, I’m getting myself a pair of walking boots so I can wear them in. Then I need to start on those inclines – I’ll begin with any hills I can find in London then a friend is taking me for a walk around the Devil’s Dyke in Brighton. And finally I might try and do Snowdon on its own with another fitness freak before the Three Peaks itself.

So, wish me luck dear readers and let me know any tips on hiking, training and most of all, self-discipline.

Image: Faraz Pourreza-Jorshari

I’m Going Back to School Vol. II

Remember back in 2012 when I embarked on a London College of Fashion short course in Fashion Journalism? No? Well here’s a reminder.

Anyway, little did I know when I signed up that a year later, two of my classmates – Katy and Jo - would be integral members of the Style & Then Some team, several others would have written guest posts for us, plus I’d list a trip to Edinburgh Festival with Katy as a cultural highlight of last year. Not to mention, the course itself was really enjoyable and gave me a much needed confidence boost in my journalistic career quest.

With that in mind, and ever thirsty for new educational accomplishments, this year I enrolled on a Birkbeck University politics module. Part of the Higher Education Introductory Studies offering, this twelve-week evening course forms one third of a High Certificate of Education qualification, but you can also take lone modules like I am.

 

Why politics? Well, it’s a subject that I’ve become more and more fascinated by in the six years I’ve been living in London. Maybe it’s because I live and work down the road from Westminster, or maybe it’s because Obama’s election in 2008 has had me engrossed in American politics ever since (mainly via the Daily Show), but I get geekily excited about elections and irrationally angry about moronic politicians all the time. However, having never studied politics at school or university, I feel my knowledge has some glaring gaps in it, so I’m hoping this course will help to fill them.

I had my first three-hour class on Wednesday night at the Russell Square campus, and so far the signs look good. You know all those political terms that you’re familiar with, but couldn’t quite define without the help of Google? Things like Neo-Liberalism or social democracy – well, we covered lots of those. Happily, I didn’t feel like a total newbie, we engaged in some healthy class debate (as in among the class, not the other kind) and I’ve already chosen ‘Women and political power’ as my essay assignment title, which I think is pretty well-timed given that Margaret Thatcher’s just popped her clogs. We’ve also got to write a critical analysis and do a ten-minute presentation, which I am also geekily excited about, if a little nervous.

Birkbeck do a huge range of different evening classes – from Egyptology to criminology, German to Japanese. At £950 for a module it’s not cheap (lucky for me my wonderful employers John Lewis subsidise some of that) but if you’re looking for a new hobby, an educational pursuit and social activity all in one you’ve got it.

Check out the Birkbeck website for details of evening course on offer in London.

Colour Me Happy, Let’s Bring The Color Run To The UK

I only heard about The Color Run (yes, it’s obviously spelt colour but we will let our American friends off this time – it’s all for a good cause after all) last week after seeing some amazing images on instagram of runner being doused in powder paints and smiling their faces off.  Also known as the Happiest 5k on the Planet, I found the event only started last year and is snowballing so fast that there is now over 1 million participants registered for 2013.  The website claims The Color Run is all about promoting fitness and well-being, and seeing as there are no winners unlike other marathons and runs, everyone can join in without fear of being left behind.

With the only two rules being A) wear white, and B) end up covered in colour, this seems like one fun run.  The only snag?  It is yet to take place in the UK.  However, if you too want to take part and can’t afford the flight over to America or Oz, there is already a Facebook petition to bring the The Color (or maybe it will be COLOUR) Run to our shores so get ‘Liking’!

 

All images courtesy of The Color Run.

I’m an “Emergent Service Worker” and proud – what class are you?

I’m a big fan of the humblebrag – when the sentiment sounds like self-deprecation or moaning but is in truth a form of boast. And this week we got plenty of “I can’t believe I’m Elite, something must be wrong with this class survey” etc etc.

That’s because the results of the BBC’s The Great British Class Survey were published this week – a study headed by Mike Savage (LSE) and Fiona Devine (University of Manchester) and with the help of BBC Lab UK which asked 161,000 people in Great Britain a series of questions about money, culture, property and relationships.

You can take the test now and see which of the seven categories you fit into: upper, middle and working class just doesn’t cut it anymore in describing our class-obsessed country. The new classes, in order, are as follows: elite, established middle class, technical middle class, new affluent workers, traditional working class, emergent service workers, precariat.

I’m an emergent service worker which means I’m young (average age of 34), enjoy a cultured social life and rent in inexpensive parts of large cities. So financially insecure but these sexy chrysalis kids socialise with a broad range of people, use social media and go to gigs. Tick tick tick boom.

So as you can tell I was pretty happy with my score – at least I wasn’t in the bottom group, the “Precariat” and I’m fairly used to wearing my lack of savings or property as a badge anyway. Then again, it looks pretty unlikely I’m ever to join the exclusive elite who were most likely privately educated, own their own home and score highest for economic, social and cultural capital.

Take the test and let us know how you feel about your new class below in the comments. To read more about the results, check out the BBC news story and if you have a spare couple of hours, read the full PDF of the findings published in the journal Sociology.

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In the April issue of Elle magazine, Dr Meg Jay, author of The Defining Decade: Why Your Twenties Matter and How To Make The Most of Them Now, argues that your twenties are a decade to be taken seriously and in which you should be building up “identity capital”. That doesn’t mean getting drunk, playing video games and lazing around with the same five people every weekend.

Jay’s advice can seem a little narrow-minded i.e. that we all should be picking families in our twenties. The seven groups identified in The Great British Class Survey span different age groups but it’s clear that society needs homeowners and free spirits, couples and singletons, travellers and office bods, hoarders and spenders. What’s right for someone with no economic capital but cultural capital in spades might not be right for the twenty something with plenty of savings but nothing like an advanced degree or work experience abroad.

Part of The Great British Class Survey ask which occupations you socialise with and awards brownie points for those who know just as many scientists and solicitors as they do farmers and lorry drivers. This accidental networking is always something I’ve had to do as a journalist – call in a favour from someone who is not a close friend – but as Jay recommends, knowing the strength of these weak ties is great for meeting new people and hearing about new job or collaboration opportunities.

Just think how much quicker you can track down a new flatmate, fundraise, sell your laptop or promote an event once your friends have posted it on Facebook and Twitter to everyone they know.

It means you don’t have to attend a hideous networking event with sweaty palms and name badges – looks like it’s just as crucial to get chatting to your binman.