Kent - A love story

They're the only band I've ever considered tattooing on me. And it breaks my heart that I can't see them on their current tour.

Cut-o-phobia

Over the years, I've developed a bit of a phobia against hairdressers. I've never burst into tears after hours of agony, only to see my poor locks fall to the floor, leaving me looking like a Barbie doll that's been given the obligatory shaven head - treatment. (I have had a shaved head once, but that I did myself).

No, it's not that bad. It's just a returning feeling, every time I look in the mirror after another attempt to face my fears, a feeling of "well I've could've done that myself", a feeling that they are not really living up to my expectations, a feeling that they just don't UNDERSTAND me nor my poor locks, once thick like horse hair, now ever thinning and of that hated "Nordic" fine quality. If I am to part with money, I want miracles. This may come from my teenage years, when I was a bit of a DIY queen when it came to doing my own hair. Black and red hair? No problem. Dreadlocks? (What can I say, I was young and listened way too much to Rage against The Machine) Done.That, as well as the aforementioned shaved head.

The thing is though, my wishes and desires when it comes to my hair have changed a bit since. Now, I would be happy with shiny hair. Undamaged hair. And I'm sure that all hairdressers are out to stress my hair to the point of breaking it or have it simply fall of.

You see, I found a brilliant salon in London. One of the best salons in the world, probably. Real Hair. Apparently, my hairdresser was trusted with the hair of Vidal Sassoons wife. That reassured me. I felt safe in a hairdressers hands for the first time since I was 13 (when we had the incredible luck of having the headmaster of the hairdressers school as our personal family hairdresser. I swear, I've never had as good hair as the school photo when I was 12.) and they didn't let me down. They managed to turn my hair that wanted almost-white colour and together we came up with a do that made even the hairdresser himself stunned by his own brilliance (well, together with my own : )). Birds sang and all was happy ever after.

Til I had to get my roots done. This safety and bird singing I got in the London salon came with a quite hefty price tag. So I decided to go for the budget option, let a local salon have a try. I mean, it's only the roots, right?

Wrong.
Three breath holding hours later I came out with part white, part yellow hair, and when I got home, I couldn't help but notice that quite a big bit of the top hair had simply BROKEN so that only a few centimeters was left, creating a Dennis the Menace-like little lock on the top of my head. Needless to say, I'm not going back to Central Studio.

The problem remains: What AM I going to do next time I have to get my roots done? Go back to London, tail between legs and beg for forgiveness for my infidelity? I see no other option, if I want to keep the rest of my hair. That, or go back to the shaved head.

Shake your ergonomically correct chair

Now, I'm not the biggest hipeti hopper in town, but sometimes I make exceptions. 

St. Johns Dance is something of a super trio when it comes to Swedish hip hop, it consists of Adam Tensta, Eboi & dida and if you can sit still to THIS, you might want to go visit your doctor cause you might be paralysed.

This is The Plot.

Alice in Wonderland, 1903

I can't wait for Alice In Wonderland. While we wait, here's a truly magical rendition of Alice from 1903 with Cecil Hepworth and Percy Stow. The film was originally 12 minutes, but only 8 of could has been saved by BFI National Archive. When it was first released, it was the longest film ever to have been made in England.

Manchester revisited.

Better late than never. Here's some pics from Manchester, nostly from fabulous Afflecks palace. Cupcakes! Old furniture! Bling Kittys! Vintage jewellery in £1 boxes!

Reading material for the train journey. Can you be more middle class?

Cupcake heaven.

Gangsta rap bling Kittys.

Random cute things from Studio Ghibli films. I don't know what they do but I WANT THEM ALL!

Woollen sock surprise

When I was a child, I always got a pair of knitted woollen socks for Christmas. Several pairs, in fact. From both grandmothers. One of them, Mummi, always hid a chocolate bar in each sock, like this:

It's Patkis, Fazers littlest and sweetest and mintiest chocolate bar, the one originally made of the left overs from the other chocolate making machines:


And I have one at home.

Husky Rescue

When it comes to credible, cool but still mainstream music, Finland is kinda behind the rest of Scandinavia with the likes of Robyn, Royksopp, Lykke Li and The Concretes getting all the spotlight. For a reason, of course. Finland's got Boomfunk MC's. Errhm.  

Don't get me wrong, when it comes to really filthy techno and dance music, I don't know anybody who does it better than the Finnish/Berlin based New Judas label, with Downtown, Les Gilliettes, Huoratron and my favourites Pets on Prozac, to name a few. 

But it's the commercially available indie I miss from Finland. There's a few sparkling lights in the bottomless arctic darkness though. Ones of them is Husky Rescue, now touring UK. On Wednesday, we're gonna go see them in Bath. (They're not coming to Bristol, for some inexplicable reason - this is a phenomenon I've seen before; bands coming to Bath, but not Bristol. I recent that.)  

It's a bit folksy, a bit whispering (like their biggest hit "My Home Ghost" from the album "Ghost Is Not Real".
Now you can download their new single " We shall burn bright" for free on their site>

http://www.huskyrescue.co.uk/

Watcha waiting for? Get enlightened, get some finndie in your ears!