Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon

Fashion, places

One does a lot of growing up after university.

And I can say from experience that adulthood is a bitter pill to swallow. As inevitable as it is unpleasant, growing up is something that you immensely look forward to as a child, and then realise the true extent of your erroneous thinking more and more with each passing year.

Adulthood – the mistake you somehow keep on making.

One thing that I have personally noticed about ageing is that I have started enjoying things that I didn’t like when I was younger. I used to hate alcohol but over the years I have reluctantly had to tick cider, wine, beer, rum and, most especially, gin off the no-drink list. Whiskey is my only holdout because it literally tastes like paint stripper, but I can only assume that within a few years, I’ll be sinking it down with no regard for my health or tastebuds like a middle-aged hedge fund manager.

I also enjoy tomatoes, spinach, granola and tonic water, even though I know for a fact that none of them taste good. But worst of all, I now have a predilection for Supermix Haribo – a flavour that is objectively and undeniably inferior to the classic Starmix or  the exotic Tangfastics.

God, have mercy on my soul.

On the plus side, among maturity’s other consolations, I have recently discovered the understated joy of wandering around stately homes. This discovery has led me to succumb to the only thing that ages a person more than male pattern baldness: I signed up for National Trust membership.

Like a sort of MTV Cribs for baby boomers, visiting a heritage property offers a glimpse into an unattainably lavish lifestyle – a peek into what could have been, had I not been born to parents of such humble means.

The younger me would have scoffed at the thought of spending a day in an ancient mansion. But the younger me wouldn’t have able to afford it even if he wanted to, so he can pipe down.

It is for this reason that, whilst visiting the property some weeks ago, I decided to do an impromptu blog shoot in the grounds of Castle Howard – one of the grandest houses in the country.

Home-ownership might be looking less and less likely for millennials, but a boy can dream.

Borrowing the neutral shades and minimal feel of Scandinavian style, today’s outfit is simple but packs a punch. So let’s start of with today’s statement piece – my dragon print shirt.

I bought this at a vintage shop in Belgium. I love being able to say that, it makes me feel fancy and cosmopolitan. What sounds less fancy and cosmopolitan is the fact that it only cost €3.

A simple off-white shirt with a Cuban (or revere) collar, the pattern elevates what would otherwise be quite a basic item. The ‘oriental-style’ print hints at the Chinioserie trend that has been popular over the last few seasons. East has met West time and time again in designs from Maharishi to Gucci, culminating notably in the popularity of  last year’s standout item – the embroidered souvenir jacket.

Fortunately, my printed dragon evokes the aesthetic, whilst costing me considerably less than Gucci would have me pay for this embroidered shirt.

You’ll notice that I am wearing a white tee underneath my shirt. This is for two reasons:

  1. It provides a casual, yet put-together look that also offers an extra layer of warmth
  2. A button fell off the dragon shirt the first time I wore it and the hole
  3. would expose more of my midriff than I feel comfortable about.

Annoying as that is, you really can’t complain when you paid €3.

Below midriff level, I have gone for the beloved favourite of hygge-loving hipsters and middle-aged piano teachers alike, beige chinos. When you literally have a dragon emblazoned across your chest, it’s best to go low-key with the rest of the outfit.

These guys were my go-to trouser of the summer and I love the simple, relaxed style. And, as you may have noticed if you have read this blog before, I continue to be physically unable to wear trousers without rolling up the hems.

Bringing a little colour to an otherwise plain and neutral outfit is my denim jacket. Another gift from the thrifty Belgian vintage scene, this oversized outerwear is a great layer to throw on for an effortless retro look.

Finally, on my feet are some sport socks (bought purely for aesthetic purposes, I rarely play sport of any kind) and some simple plimsolls from Primark. Try saying that last bit 3 times fast.

Having now spent 6 years as a legal adult, and 2 years out of university, I have to admit that some days I really do wish I was a kid again.

But aside from the changing tastes and the having to go to work like every day (what’s that all about?), if adulthood looks like this, maybe it’s not so bad after all.

 

@ediadegbola

 

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Covent Garden

places

There are few things I enjoy more than discovering new places.

I love a good wander, but more than that, I love being shown around by a local – seeing the city from their perspective.

A couple of weeks ago, I had some time to kill in Covent Garden so I met a couple of friends for coffee, wandering etc.

After rambling around the piazza and St Paul’s Church, carefully avoiding eye contact with street performers, I stopped for a quick bite to eat at Whittard’s Tea Bar. It was lovely, though victim to the smaller than expected portions and inflated prices that we’ve come to expect from London. I’m not complaining – they have high overheads, I get it. On the plus side, the sun was shining and it was lovely eating al fresco on such a glorious day.

Hands down, the highlight of the day has to be the visit to Crosstown Doughnuts. The more perceptive among you will probably have guessed what they sell there. (Clue: it rhymes with ‘slow butts’.)

I went for a lime and kiwi flavoured number which admittedly sounds quite odd, but was fantastic. These guys seem to be all about the details – even the jam had what appeared to be kiwi pips in it to give it the proper kiwi feel.

A tiny little shop, Crosstown’s interior is a monument to minimal and monochrome style. Black and white masonic floor, black furnishings, doughnut-shaped stools, neon signs and a live Instagram counter (oh, what a time to be alive!) accompany the selection of doughnuts. Outside, they’ve decided to brighten things up a little more with a deep purple hue.

One of his favourites, my friend also took me to Magma – a magazine/bookshop. You might remember from a previous blog that I visited the branch of Magma in Manchester some time ago, but if you have any semblance of a life, you probably don’t. Anyway, this Magma was bigger than its northern counterpart and filled with even more magazines, books and odd trinkets over two floors.

My friend also took me to Reality Church – a relatively new community that meet in an art gallery in Covent Garden. I loved it there. The people were great, really friendly and welcoming, the teaching was relevant and well-delivered, and the music was beautiful.

In the evening I went for some food and cocktails at a Latin restaurant/bar called Salsa. Perhaps a little on the nose with the name there, but nonetheless their Sunday deal was surprisingly cheap so we gorged ourselves till we could eat and drink no more while a Latin dance workshop took place on the dancefloor a few metres away. It was kind of like being at a bar or a wedding party where the DJ is a little too talkative and keeps stopping the music to say something or other. Except, this time, what the DJ is saying is actually helpful to people, and he is from South America instead of Hull.

After dinner we went for a stroll through Hyde Park and up past Buckingham palace. Having recently watched The Crown on Netflix, I couldn’t help but imagine Clare Foy wandering around looking burdened and pensive while Matt Smith moans about something.

The palace and the London Eye looked stunning reflected in the water of the Serpentine – a beautiful was to end my day in London.

Belgium

Fashion, places

I recently had the pleasure of visiting for a second time what I think is a very underrated country.

You don’t really hear much about Belgium, do you? It’s all Paris this and Amsterdam that, while Belgium sits there quietly enjoying the best of French and Dutch culture.

I was there for ‘I Have A Dream’ – a week of events organised by a group of Christian students at the University of Leuven. These events aimed to provide students an opportunity to think about the big questions of life and hear about and discuss Christianity.

We had a really good response from students there and it was great to chat with people and get to know them, and to talk about some of the deeper things in life that we don’t always get time to think about.

Leuven is a beautiful city (also criminally underrated, I think) and I loved wandering around, taking in the mix of gothic, contemporary and neoclassical architecture. St Peter’s cathedral is an imposing gothic structure on the main market square, but the stunning 15th century town hall accross the road commands your attention with dozens of carved figurines all over it.

The library was definitely another favourite building of mine and, though it took a beating in both of the world wars, it stands tall and proud on Ladeuzeplein Sqaure. Well, at least until the next war. Outside stands a huge statue of a fly impaled on a needle. Why?

Because art. That’s why.

Belgium is the land of chocolate (and Stella Artois too, but the less said about that, the better) so of course I had my fill of sweet treats, especially truffles, waffles and ice cream. Filled to the brim with coffeeshops, cafes, bars and restaurants, the standout for me had to be The Capital – a bar that boasts 2000 different varieties of beer. Yes, you read that right. With 20 beers on tap and bottled favourites at the bar, the rest are kept in their extensive cellar and sent up to the bar on an industrial elevator.

The Capital spits in the face of your local.

Some friends pointed me towards Think Twice – a vintage shop in Leuven. I will forever be in their debt. Think Twice (or T2) have sales every month to clear up space for their incoming new stock. They do this by means of incredibly generous discounts. Today everything is 30% off, tomorrow 40%, the day after 50%. This is off EVERY item in the store, from shirts and jackets to bags and shoes. After that, each item is €5, then €4, then €3 and so on, until you’re buying leather jackets and wool coats for basically pennies.

Great fashion at ridiculously low prices without the ethical implications of cheap labour, as well as the feeling of knowing you’re recycling an outfit instead of buying yet another new item and adding to the vicious cycle of clothing waste. No surprsises, I was a big fan. I went twice. On the first day I got an black denim shirt for £4. The next I hit things hard, and bought a faded red denim shirt, an embroidered cuban collar shirt, an indigo denim jacket, and a vintage sweatshirt. Unsurprisingly for a secondhand shop, each of the items were larger than what I usually wear, but I quite enjoy the slouchy 90s feel of oversized items.

I also got some time to wander around Brussels which is a half hour train ride from Leuven.

Brussels, being the bastion of culture that it is, has a famous statue called ‘Mannekin Pis’ – directly translated as ‘Little Man Piss’. It is quite literally a statue of a little boy peeing. There are many legends as to the origins of this piece of art. One of them is that sometime in the 14th century the city of Brussels was besieged by a foreign enemy. The attackers had laid explosives around the city to finish things once and for all, but a young boy happened to notice the burning fuse and urinated on it – thus saving Brussels.

Believe it or not, people come from literally all over to gaze upon the admittedly underwhelming manhood that may or may not have saved the city all those years ago. This is culture, guys. Rich, beautiful culture. Annoyingly, on the day I visited, he had been dressed in a weird old-fashioned outfit for some reason, probably a public holiday or something. This marred my experience somewhat as normally he’s a lot less prudish.

Aside from looking at urinating statues, I spent the day wandering around the beautiful buildings of Belgium’s captial like the royal shoping arcade Galleries De Hubert, beautiful neoclassical churches, the palace and the royal library.

I also visited the European Parliament – because three weeks after the UK officially began withdrawal from the European Union, I can’t imagine anything they’d want to see more than a clueless Englishman wandering around, unable to speak any of the three national languages.

It was actually quite humbling to see the frankly huge complex – I immediately felt very small, both in stature and in my contributions to world unity.

It was really interesting and thought-provoking learning about the rich history of the EU at the neighbouring Parlamentarium – basically a museum about the European Union. It was genuinely fascinating – which was a huge surprise to me, if I’m honest. My favourite part was the 360 projection room that simulated being an MEP during a vote. I don’t care how lame that makes me sound. A bittersweet visit for me, the Parlamentarium really hit home the momentous decision that the UK has made.

Politics aside, I had fantastic time in Belgium and my love for the country has only grow stronger. As has my love for waffles and beer.

 

The North(ern quarter) Remembers

places

A couple of weekends ago I spent some time in Manchester.

Manchester is an incredibly cool city and while I was waiting to meet my friend (this is the friend who is a part-time wizard), I spent some time mooching around The Northern Quarter – the city’s recognised hipster refuge.

Home to “alternative department store” Afflecks alongside a barrage of vintage shops, record stores and pseudo-quaint cafes, the pretentious side of me was positively salivating.

Perhaps my favourite location was We Are Cow – a vintage shop whose range is stocked at Topman among other places. Independent fashion meets big business. I enjoyed the decor – the highlight of which had to be a sign that spelt out the word ‘cow’ with filament bulbs in mason jars suspended from the ceiling. I love the ridiculousness of that sentence.

Aside from kitsch decor and lifeless mannequins that were still somehow cooler than I am ever likely to be, We Are Cow clearly took pride in their extensive range of preloved, restored and repurposed clothes that sprawled over two floors of nostalgia. Alongside the usual assortment of classic jackets, jeans and knitwear sat unique Frankenstein-esque creations such as Polo by Ralph Lauren shirts with cotton sweatshirt arms spliced on. And vice-versa.

After leaving the shop, safe in the knowledge that I too am in fact Cow, I wandered around a couple of record stores and a few more vintage shops until I was drawn in by the distinctive neon sign outside Pop Boutique (an independent vintage chain) which said “Come and Worship” in green and electric blue. I thought it might be a hipster church or something, I don’t know.

Inside I was greeted not by a vicar, but a by bearded man in a wood panelled room full of retro clothing, leaning nonchalantly on a glass topped counter in front of an onsite barbershop. That was good enough for me. Downstairs was the furniture department, which was basically like stepping into the set of a Wes Anderson film, with its nostalgic yet somehow timeless yet still very 70s atmosphere.

I popped into self-proclaimed “design store and speciality coffee bar” Fig + Sparrow for a drink and a sit down. The cafe (which also boasts an apartment, rentable on Airbnb) has a light and airy interior – tall ceilings, white walls and lots of pine. After enjoying a delightful peppermint tea, I had a browse of the products on offer which were mostly cool knick-knacks for the home.

I also got the chance to have a brief look in book and magazine shop Magma. I’ve always loved magazines and this design-focused shop didn’t disappoint with their unprecedented range. They basically stocked all the cool design publications that I already followed on Instagram. Supplementing the literature was an array of cool gifts and fun things. Pretty MAGnificent.

I’m sorry, there was no need for that.

Ok, that’s about the extent of my Northern Quarter wanderings, really.

As you can probably tell from the reference that I crudely shoe-horned into the title of this post, I’ve been watching a lot of Game of Thrones recently, so I thought I’d sign off in classic Westerosi style.

Yours sincerely,

Edi Adegbola of House Adegbola, First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.

Beverley Forever-ley

Fashion, places

I’ve lived in York for over 4 years now but due to a mixture of laziness, lack of funds, and the unrelenting, soul-snatching appeal of Netflix, I haven’t explored much of Yorkshire in that time.

So naturally, when my friend offered to take me to Beverley, I jumped at the chance. I was even more keen to go when I realised that Beverly was the name of an East Yorkshire town and not just some lady he knew.

So on the 5th of November (which I’m sure is an important date, but I just can’t remember, remember) we headed up to Beverley.

We spent most of the day walking around the Saturday market and exploring the quaint little town. That said, last year a new shopping complex opened in Beverley that is far from quaint (though is relatively little) and the locals I spoke to seemed half-heartedly unhappy about it but reluctantly willing to accept it, much like how we respond when Mark Zuckerberg decides to update Facebook.

The Beverley Minster (cathedral) was lovely, though not as big as York’s one. But as short people the world over often say while standing on their tiptoes, size doesn’t matter. The building was absolutely beautiful inside and outside like it was on a Dove Real Beauty advert. A highlight for me was the decidedly modern geometric marble floor in a building that was built 800 years ago.

One advantage that the Beverley minster has over its York counterpart is that it’s possible to get a good photograph of its exterior. The area around York minster is too dense with buildings and obnoxious trees to get a good picture of the mammoth building.

For the style fans, I’m wearing tweed trousers from Asos that I’ve rolled up twice at the hems, giving quite thick cuffs in a bit of a 90s-esque throwback. I’m also wearing black suede desert boots from Boohooman.com, a green tartan scarf from Gap and my friend’s oversized coat i.e. the coat is too big for me but I’m going to pretend it’s done on purpose.

After wandering around town for a couple hours we headed back to my friend’s house to get something to eat before heading out again to see the Guy Fawkes Day firework display. Getting to the fireworks was something of an ordeal as we found ourselves climbing over and under fences and racecourse barriers, respectively, and trudging through fields littered with horse poo. I was assured by my friend that this was all legit and not untypical of countryside life, but I took that with a pinch of salt. And a pinch of horse crap.

The fireworks were great though. We arrived a little late and basically had to follow the lights in the sky to find our way, but it was beautiful climbing a hill and gazing at the sky lit up with stunning colours and patterns. It would have made some great shots for the film/reality show that I’m still waiting to be made about my life.

I had a great time exploring Beverley – a town who’s density of bakeries by square mile rivals Starbucks in central London –  and I enjoyed writing this too so I might try another post like this next time I visit somewhere new, especially if it’s a place with the name of a middle-aged woman.

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