Amelia’s Magazine | Film Preview: Just Do It – get off your arse and change the world launches Crowd Funding appeal


Alice Early, approved from her graduate work

Kingston University might be a hop, skip and a jump from the capital, but the 2010 fashion graduates aren’t letting a little thing like distance stop them from becoming real contenders in the fashion stakes. I went along to Graduate Fashion Week to find out just what the noise from the suburbs is all about. 

Standing at the front of the cavernous Earl’s Court 2 arena, River Island’s Graduate Fashion Week sings it’s assault on the senses, a holding pen for the designers of the future. Bright lights, pumping music and hundreds of discerning fashion devotees mill around institutes’ stands; groups form and disperse, giggle and buzz through the milieu. ‘I like her shoes, I wonder if that’s a wig, isn’t that Vivienne Westwood?!’

Amongst the activity, a stand glows at the front, a beacon of minimalist beauty: welcome to Kingston. 

Representative students are dressed in clean black t-shirts, hints of their individuality breaking through with a slick of lipstick or a quiff set just-so. White stands display student portfolios. The monochrome serenity of Kingston’s presentation is impressively slick, but I am struck by how, behind the blank white covers, the students’ portfolios come alive with a turn of the page. Illustrations of every kind dance like flickbook figures running across the paper, the minute but ornate versions of the catwalk to come. Pocketing an equally gorgeous guide to the designs to be shown, I’m soon heading off to Kingston’s prime time catwalk slot, seated just in time for the lights to go down. 


Live front row illustration by Lauren Macaulay

Alice Early’s designs make for a grand debut with her exploration into the craft of tailoring; rounded cape shoulders and flowing dresses enhance the silhouette of the slinky models, but leather tops and soft, wearable tailoring on high waisted trousers show Early has been paying attention to the direction of fashion today. Baby blues and smattering of peacock prints add a subtle femininity that appears in drops across Kingston’s show.

Sophie Hudspith’s rose and teal sheer knitwear seems to play under the lights of the catwalk, a fine lattice intricately woven together. Meanwhile, Lucy Hammond takes to the other end of the feminine spectrum with her tongue-in-cheek girl about town sweaters pronouncing ‘I Love Knitting, I’m not Shitting’. If Dennis the Menace can put up with her potty mouth he’d love Hammond’s knit’n’purl girl decked in red and black stripes and oversize, floorlength scarfs inspired by the work of Sonya Rykiel.

Nathalie Tunna showcases some of my favourite designs of the show in cute, round shoulder dresses, completed by a zesty palette of pastels. The lines of her garments have an exactness befitting of Jackie O, but a playfulness is inherent in the accessories as leather trim backpacks and printed holdalls make an appearance.    

For an institute hitting so many marks, it’s odd that 21 year old knitwear Zac Marshall should announce that he likes ‘getting it wrong’. But experimentation and an exploration into deconstruction and altering panelling have left Marshall with a wrong-and-yet-so-right collection of menswear. The audience could barely take their eyes off their cute, hand-knitted creatures adorning the jumpers, but clever twists on tailoring meant Marshall’s clothes are more than just fancy dress costumes.

David Stoneman-Merret’s garments share a sense of hyperactive jumper joy (you know the joy, when you find that amazing jumper with a teddy bear eating a cheeseburger on it in a charity shop for a pound), with pixelated digital prints of flowers and his Nan in a Christmas hat. Her death two years ago inspired an exploration into the garments worn by the elderly and the darker realms of dementia, but David is adamant that his Nan would be jumping for joy too: ‘She would have loved the attention- she’d be telling everyone ‘That’s me on that top!’ I’d have to agree with Nanny Stoneman Merret, appearing on such odd but strangely entrancing garments is an accolade to be proud of. 

Naama Rietti sends models down the catwalk with breathtaking, contorted knitted headwear and matching neck pieces. They twist and come to life as faces emerge from their fabric as a bestial addition to a collection scattered with snakeskin prints and rich blue furs coats.

Angharad Probert’s lust for large scale ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ style fur creations is evident as models strut to a hypnotic, trendy beat; the large collars and dip-dye effect rustling to the rhythm. Sheepskin and fur headpieces hint at mohicans and transform the catwalk into a beautiful Darwinian manifestation, complete with extra details such as razor sharp teeth adorning leggings. Panelling slits reveal gasps of skin on a knee or shoulder, the armour of the modern warrior woman.

Zheng Zeng mixes up the female shape with contours etched into the patterns, dipping and diving over the curves of the body and ballooning on the shoulders like a superhero. 
The final two showings cross polar opposites in fashion but bring the show to a fantastic finale. First Vivian Wong shows her deconstructed business suits – parts removed, ripped up and replaced. Wong creates entirely new shapes on the body; a lapel is moved and a neckline becomes a triangle, or a collar hangs glibly down. In a comment on the recent MP expenses scandal, Wong is asking her audience what it means to have a rule or a uniform broken down, taken back to the drawing board and reimagined in a new way. Her suits conjure glimpses of the 1980s power woman but distinct lines on the body and luxury greys and browns bring the look up to date.

Finally, Harriet de Roeper closes the show in style, as her moody, androgynous suits are paired with Dr Martens, in an homage to the anarchy of Lord of the Flies. Flies stamp the exterior of her suits in spludges and splashes, a sense of chaos that jars against the formality of button up collars and polo necks. 

As the last model trails off the catwalk, I’m struck by the maturity inherent in much of Kingston’s work. Whilst fashion inspiration can be tenuous and at times somewhat off the mark, the Surrey fashion gang have certainly been doing something right. Collections express a clear and solid direction. For a class that draws so much inspiration from rebellion against tradition, it would be promising to see the next students amp up the risks a little more, but you can’t complain about a graduate collection that is making this writer head off for some serious talks with her bank manager.

Alice Early, pills from her graduate work

Kingston University might be a hop, and skip and a jump from the capital, cheapest but the 2010 fashion graduates aren’t letting a little thing like distance stop them from becoming real contenders in the fashion stakes. I went along to Graduate Fashion Week to find out just what the noise from the suburbs is all about. 

Standing at the front of the cavernous Earl’s Court 2 arena, River Island’s Graduate Fashion Week sings it’s assault on the senses, a holding pen for the designers of the future. Bright lights, pumping music and hundreds of discerning fashion devotees mill around institutes’ stands; groups form and disperse, giggle and buzz through the milieu. ‘I like her shoes, I wonder if that’s a wig, isn’t that Vivienne Westwood?!’

Amongst the activity, a stand glows at the front, a beacon of minimalist beauty: welcome to Kingston. 

Representative students are dressed in clean black t-shirts, hints of their individuality breaking through with a slick of lipstick or a quiff set just-so. White stands display student portfolios. The monochrome serenity of Kingston’s presentation is impressively slick, but I am struck by how, behind the blank white covers, the students’ portfolios come alive with a turn of the page. Illustrations of every kind dance like flickbook figures running across the paper, the minute but ornate versions of the catwalk to come. Pocketing an equally gorgeous guide to the designs to be shown, I’m soon heading off to Kingston’s prime time catwalk slot, seated just in time for the lights to go down. 


Live front row illustration by Lauren Macaulay

Alice Early’s designs make for a grand debut with her exploration into the craft of tailoring; rounded cape shoulders and flowing dresses enhance the silhouette of the slinky models, but leather tops and soft, wearable tailoring on high waisted trousers show Early has been paying attention to the direction of fashion today. Baby blues and smattering of peacock prints add a subtle femininity that appears in drops across Kingston’s show.

Sophie Hudspith’s rose and teal sheer knitwear seems to play under the lights of the catwalk, a fine lattice intricately woven together. Meanwhile, Lucy Hammond takes to the other end of the feminine spectrum with her tongue-in-cheek girl about town sweaters pronouncing ‘I Love Knitting, I’m not Shitting’. If Dennis the Menace can put up with her potty mouth he’d love Hammond’s knit’n’purl girl decked in red and black stripes and oversize, floorlength scarfs inspired by the work of Sonya Rykiel.

Nathalie Tunna showcases some of my favourite designs of the show in cute, round shoulder dresses, completed by a zesty palette of pastels. The lines of her garments have an exactness befitting of Jackie O, but a playfulness is inherent in the accessories as leather trim backpacks and printed holdalls make an appearance.    

For an institute hitting so many marks, it’s odd that 21 year old knitwear Zac Marshall should announce that he likes ‘getting it wrong’. But experimentation and an exploration into deconstruction and altering panelling have left Marshall with a wrong-and-yet-so-right collection of menswear. The audience could barely take their eyes off their cute, hand-knitted creatures adorning the jumpers, but clever twists on tailoring meant Marshall’s clothes are more than just fancy dress costumes.

David Stoneman-Merret’s garments share a sense of hyperactive jumper joy (you know the joy, when you find that amazing jumper with a teddy bear eating a cheeseburger on it in a charity shop for a pound), with pixelated digital prints of flowers and his Nan in a Christmas hat. Her death two years ago inspired an exploration into the garments worn by the elderly and the darker realms of dementia, but David is adamant that his Nan would be jumping for joy too: ‘She would have loved the attention- she’d be telling everyone ‘That’s me on that top!’ I’d have to agree with Nanny Stoneman Merret, appearing on such odd but strangely entrancing garments is an accolade to be proud of. 

Naama Rietti sends models down the catwalk with breathtaking, contorted knitted headwear and matching neck pieces. They twist and come to life as faces emerge from their fabric as a bestial addition to a collection scattered with snakeskin prints and rich blue furs coats.

Angharad Probert’s lust for large scale ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ style fur creations is evident as models strut to a hypnotic, trendy beat; the large collars and dip-dye effect rustling to the rhythm. Sheepskin and fur headpieces hint at mohicans and transform the catwalk into a beautiful Darwinian manifestation, complete with extra details such as razor sharp teeth adorning leggings. Panelling slits reveal gasps of skin on a knee or shoulder, the armour of the modern warrior woman.

Zheng Zeng mixes up the female shape with contours etched into the patterns, dipping and diving over the curves of the body and ballooning on the shoulders like a superhero. 
The final two showings cross polar opposites in fashion but bring the show to a fantastic finale. First Vivian Wong shows her deconstructed business suits – parts removed, ripped up and replaced. Wong creates entirely new shapes on the body; a lapel is moved and a neckline becomes a triangle, or a collar hangs glibly down. In a comment on the recent MP expenses scandal, Wong is asking her audience what it means to have a rule or a uniform broken down, taken back to the drawing board and reimagined in a new way. Her suits conjure glimpses of the 1980s power woman but distinct lines on the body and luxury greys and browns bring the look up to date.

Finally, Harriet de Roeper closes the show in style, as her moody, androgynous suits are paired with Dr Martens, in an homage to the anarchy of Lord of the Flies. Flies stamp the exterior of her suits in spludges and splashes, a sense of chaos that jars against the formality of button up collars and polo necks. 

As the last model trails off the catwalk, I’m struck by the maturity inherent in much of Kingston’s work. Whilst fashion inspiration can be tenuous and at times somewhat off the mark, the Surrey fashion gang have certainly been doing something right. Collections express a clear and solid direction. For a class that draws so much inspiration from rebellion against tradition, it would be promising to see the next students amp up the risks a little more, but you can’t complain about a graduate collection that is making this writer head off for some serious talks with her bank manager.


Alice Early, sickness from her graduate work

Kingston University might be a hop, order skip and a jump from the capital, viagra sale but the 2010 fashion graduates aren’t letting a little thing like distance stop them from becoming real contenders in the fashion stakes. I went along to Graduate Fashion Week to find out just what the noise from the suburbs is all about. 

Standing at the front of the cavernous Earl’s Court 2 arena, River Island’s Graduate Fashion Week sings it’s assault on the senses, a holding pen for the designers of the future. Bright lights, pumping music and hundreds of discerning fashion devotees mill around institutes’ stands; groups form and disperse, giggle and buzz through the milieu. ‘I like her shoes, I wonder if that’s a wig, isn’t that Vivienne Westwood?!’

Amongst the activity, a stand glows at the front, a beacon of minimalist beauty: welcome to Kingston. 

Representative students are dressed in clean black t-shirts, hints of their individuality breaking through with a slick of lipstick or a quiff set just-so. White stands display student portfolios. The monochrome serenity of Kingston’s presentation is impressively slick, but I am struck by how, behind the blank white covers, the students’ portfolios come alive with a turn of the page. Illustrations of every kind dance like flickbook figures running across the paper, the minute but ornate versions of the catwalk to come. Pocketing an equally gorgeous guide to the designs to be shown, I’m soon heading off to Kingston’s prime time catwalk slot, seated just in time for the lights to go down. 


Live front row illustration by Lauren Macaulay

Alice Early’s designs make for a grand debut with her exploration into the craft of tailoring; rounded cape shoulders and flowing dresses enhance the silhouette of the slinky models, but leather tops and soft, wearable tailoring on high waisted trousers show Early has been paying attention to the direction of fashion today. Baby blues and smattering of peacock prints add a subtle femininity that appears in drops across Kingston’s show.

Sophie Hudspith’s rose and teal sheer knitwear seems to play under the lights of the catwalk, a fine lattice intricately woven together. Meanwhile, Lucy Hammond takes to the other end of the feminine spectrum with her tongue-in-cheek girl about town sweaters pronouncing ‘I Love Knitting, I’m not Shitting’. If Dennis the Menace can put up with her potty mouth he’d love Hammond’s knit’n’purl girl decked in red and black stripes and oversize, floorlength scarfs inspired by the work of Sonya Rykiel.

Nathalie Tunna showcases some of my favourite designs of the show in cute, round shoulder dresses, completed by a zesty palette of pastels. The lines of her garments have an exactness befitting of Jackie O, but a playfulness is inherent in the accessories as leather trim backpacks and printed holdalls make an appearance.    

For an institute hitting so many marks, it’s odd that 21 year old knitwear Zac Marshall should announce that he likes ‘getting it wrong’. But experimentation and an exploration into deconstruction and altering panelling have left Marshall with a wrong-and-yet-so-right collection of menswear. The audience could barely take their eyes off their cute, hand-knitted creatures adorning the jumpers, but clever twists on tailoring meant Marshall’s clothes are more than just fancy dress costumes.

David Stoneman-Merret’s garments share a sense of hyperactive jumper joy (you know the joy, when you find that amazing jumper with a teddy bear eating a cheeseburger on it in a charity shop for a pound), with pixelated digital prints of flowers and his Nan in a Christmas hat. Her death two years ago inspired an exploration into the garments worn by the elderly and the darker realms of dementia, but David is adamant that his Nan would be jumping for joy too: ‘She would have loved the attention- she’d be telling everyone ‘That’s me on that top!’ I’d have to agree with Nanny Stoneman Merret, appearing on such odd but strangely entrancing garments is an accolade to be proud of. 

Naama Rietti sends models down the catwalk with breathtaking, contorted knitted headwear and matching neck pieces. They twist and come to life as faces emerge from their fabric as a bestial addition to a collection scattered with snakeskin prints and rich blue furs coats.

Angharad Probert’s lust for large scale ‘Where the Wild Things Are‘ style fur creations is evident as models strut to a hypnotic, trendy beat; the large collars and dip-dye effect rustling to the rhythm. Sheepskin and fur headpieces hint at mohicans and transform the catwalk into a beautiful Darwinian manifestation, complete with extra details such as razor sharp teeth adorning leggings. Panelling slits reveal gasps of skin on a knee or shoulder, the armour of the modern warrior woman.

Zheng Zeng mixes up the female shape with contours etched into the patterns, dipping and diving over the curves of the body and ballooning on the shoulders like a superhero. 
The final two showings cross polar opposites in fashion but bring the show to a fantastic finale. First Vivian Wong shows her deconstructed business suits – parts removed, ripped up and replaced. Wong creates entirely new shapes on the body; a lapel is moved and a neckline becomes a triangle, or a collar hangs glibly down. In a comment on the recent MP expenses scandal, Wong is asking her audience what it means to have a rule or a uniform broken down, taken back to the drawing board and reimagined in a new way. Her suits conjure glimpses of the 1980s power woman but distinct lines on the body and luxury greys and browns bring the look up to date.

Finally, Harriet de Roeper closes the show in style, as her moody, androgynous suits are paired with Dr. Martens, in an homage to the anarchy of Lord of the Flies. Flies stamp the exterior of her suits in spludges and splashes, a sense of chaos that jars against the formality of button up collars and polo necks. 

As the last model trails off the catwalk, I’m struck by the maturity inherent in much of Kingston’s work. Whilst fashion inspiration can be tenuous and at times somewhat off the mark, the Surrey fashion gang have certainly been doing something right. Collections express a clear and solid direction. For a class that draws so much inspiration from rebellion against tradition, it would be promising to see the next students amp up the risks a little more, but you can’t complain about a graduate collection that is making this writer head off for some serious talks with her bank manager.


Live illustration of the UEL front row, doctor by Lauren Macaulay

Kicking off Graduate Fashion week, search the East London Show was a blend of slick, commercially-minded pieces, and the challenging designs this pocket of London is famed for. From the glossy brochure showcasing the class of 2010, to several wearable, beautifully crafted collections, it could quite easily have been a commercial catwalk show.
 
Several collections chimed with existing trends – Charlotte Macke’s black moulded felt and macramé dresses, with accessories draped with chain-mail, were a reminder of the ‘urban warrior’ we have seen marching catwalks for a few seasons, and there were countless versions of the nineties body con, maxi length and minimalist aesthetic that Louise Goldin and Marios Schwab have played with.  

Equally easy on the eye was Jane Branco’s “Kiss Me Deadly” collection of draped, soft-toned silk-jersey dresses, and Queesra Abbas Dad’s upmarket traveller, with models wrapped up in fur hats, camel coats, brocade trousers and matching suitcases, off on an exotic expedition. Both collections wouldn’t have looked out of place on a luxury label’s shop floor.  

But you come to a graduate show expecting fresh blood, and there were plenty of students who brought the East London edge.


Live catwalk illustrations by Lauren Macaulay

Bunmi Olayi’s ‘Matriarchy’ collection went for the warrior vibe, but with striking results. Inspired by the Ekpe ‘leopard masquerade’, a women-only cult in pre-colonial Nigeria, and Scottish missionary Mary Slessor (a revolutionary figure in the Victorian age) Olaye’s designs were a fierce combination of the tribal and traditional. Models stormed down the catwalk with sticks topped with pom-poms, and feathered masks and headdresses, their bodies clad in a sharp Victorian silhouette. This was playful power dressing, with well-tailored jackets, balloon sleeves, and a sweet skirt suit in burnt ochre and deep red, adorned with raffia, bells and beads, and cartoonish giant pom-poms.  

Another stand-out name was Johanna Greenish. ‘Unfold’, a collection of simple, exquisitely crafted monochrome pieces, explores “the effect of folding and unfolding fabric”. Layers of rough, unfinished materials were manipulated into geometric shapes, and origami-like creations were toughened up with leather accents – from a leather dress with a paper-thin collar, to rippling skirts paired with thick leather belts. The star of the show was a top that unfolded in two different directions, creating a ‘concertina’ on the model’s chest.  

Uniform across the collections was the attention to detail –with eye-catching accessories just as exciting as the clothes. Diana Gevorgian’s collection of black leather suits and sheer organza shirts were inspired by “metal roosters bought from a car boot sale”, evident in the metal decorations of feathers adorning everything from leather gloves to the avant-garde shoes.  

“The starting point was a photograph of nuns smoking”. Hard to believe, but Stephanie Hemphill’s collection of short, cobalt wool dresses, grey hooded tops and latex peekaboo layers were a contemporary take on the nun’s habit. We doubt you’ll be seeing these designs down a convent anytime soon, but Hemphill’s clean, futuristic designs were some of my favourites in the show.


Live catwalk illustrations by Lauren Macaulay

Also worth a mention was Anna Grzegorczyk’s “Patterns of the Earth”, a rustic range of cocoon shaped dresses, paired with thick wooden sandals, and clunky jewelry. Inspired by “trips to Scandinavian countries” and “the beauty and harshness of Norwegian Fjords”, each dress had an organic feel, with hand-dyed fabrics, and soft romantic shapes. Each garmet was decorated with ripples and cracks from a book of natural patterns, and whilst the shapes weren’t particularly adventurous, they billowed around the frame beautifully.  

In a show of strong, ‘warrior’ inspired shapes, strong colours and heavy embellishment, Grzegorczyk’s pared-down palette and natural aesthetic was rather refreshing.


Live catwalk illustrations by Lauren Macaulay

Images courtesy of catwalking.com

Photography by Mini Mouse

Left Field Films is producing an exciting new documentary film on climate change and is asking for your help to get it completed. Since 2009, order Just Do It: get off your arse and change the world has been following the mischievous antics of UK Climate Change Activists. Emily James, here the film’s director was granted unprecedented access to document a variety of direct actions from the fraught G20 protest, buy the occupation of Blackheath by Climate Camp to Copenhagen and the spectacular failure of the UN COP 15 climate talks.

This is the briefest of introductions to a film that will inspire you to get off your arse and change the world and does no justice to the breadth and width of the activities and activists who inspired the project.

Heard about the time a load of bikes closed down Westminster?

YouTube Preview Image

For more videos documenting the variety of actions appearing in the film, check out the Just Do It website.

What makes this film really special is that it will be completely non-commercial and is being produced by a combination of volunteers and film professionals. As none of the costs will be coming from sales Just Do It are asking the public to help fund the production costs, to enable this exciting documentary to be released completely for free under creative commons.

Launched on Monday 14th June, the crowd funding appeal enables you to help make a film you would like to see by putting your money where you mouth is and sponsoring the film.

Photography by Kristian Buus

This is a community engaged film in which the move away from a financially driven production model towards self publishing enables the contributors and the wider team to have far more rights and input than if this was a commissioned documentary. Importantly Just Do It are able to tell the stories of the activists without the editorial or stylistic concerns of a Broadcaster.

Just Do It is the story of people standing up to worldwide governmental inefficiency to tackle the problem of Climate Change. It is a tale of people getting up, leaving the house and taking a stance for what they believe. Just Do It introduces the people behind the politics as they stand up against corporations and the subsequent treatment they receive.

Photography by Rob Logan

The film is: “a story of heroic individuals throwing themselves against the might of the machine, because it’s the right thing to do, regardless of success or failure. By telling their story, we hope to inspire and incite others to do the same.” Just Do It 2010.

Photography by Rob Logan

By releasing the documentary under creative commons Just Do It are making this film “in a way that reflects the culture that it is about. We want to give it away rather than capitalise on it, and support the Creative Commons and Free Culture movement.” Just Do It 2010

Photography by Kristian Buus

What are you waiting for? Just Do It!

Directed by Emily James it follows the story of 3 organisations, 2 loose affiliations and one domestic extremist: Marina Pepper (Seen in the Last Picture).

Categories ,Activists, ,Bike Rush, ,Campaign Against Climate Change, ,Climate Camp, ,Climate Change, ,Climate Rush, ,Cop 15, ,copenhagen, ,Creative Commons, ,Free Culture, ,g20, ,Just Do It Film, ,Just Do It: get off your arse and change the world, ,Kristian Buus, ,london, ,Marina Pepper, ,Minnie Mouse, ,Plane Stupid, ,Rob Logan

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Illustration by Stéphanie Thieullent

“Ari Up: John Lydon’s step-daughter dies.” The Telegraph’s headline was horribly reductive. Ari Up, information pills try who died on Wednesday at the tragically young age of 48, treatment was the punk legend’s step-daughter but that was just a small and tangential detail in a fascinating life and career. With The Slits and later with the New Age Steppers and solo in several guises, medical Ari Up was a musical icon in her own right, not a bit player on the fringes of the John Lydon circus.   


Illustration by Gemma Milly

The granddaughter of the owner of Der Spiegel and daughter of Nora Foster who was at the centre of the London music scene for years (befriending Hendrix and dating Chris Spedding before finally marrying Johnny Rotten), Ari Up was born from privilege and chaos in equal measure.  

Nora’s tendency to invite poor punk musicians to bunk down at their house put Ari at the heart of the scene and got her guitar tuition from Joe Strummer. She was 14 when she formed The Slits with Strummer’s former-flatmate Palmolive. Her fascination with reggae gave the band a dubby feel that was in sharp contrast to the guitar thrashing of many other punk outfits.  


Illustration by Aniela Murphy


Illustration by Abi Daker

The Slits debut album Cut, with its memorable image of the band naked but for grass skirts and a liberal coating of mud, featured a cleaner sound than their live performances. While the band’s cover of I Heard It Through The Grapevine is still an indie disco staple, the record is studded with gems particularly the amateurish piano and bouncing bass of Typical Girls.  


Illustration by Faye West

The Splits broke up in 1981 and Ari moved with her husband and twins to Indonesia and Belize before heading for Jamaica, an appropriate location given her an enduring love of reggae and dub. She performed and recorded with Lee Scratch Perry and released a solo album, Dread More Dan Dead, in 2005.  
In 2006, The Slits reformed to some critical acclaim, releasing the Return of The Giant Slits EP which was followed by a new full length record, Trapped Animals, in October last year.The Slits final work together, a video for the Trapped Animals track Lazy Slam, was released yesterday in accordance with Ari’s final wishes.  


Illustration by Gemma Sheldrake

A whirling dervish of dreadlocks and energy even when The Slits returned in their middle-aged incarnation, it’s with sad inevitability that Ari Up will be pegged as John Lydon’s step-daughter first and a musician in her own right second. But more thoughtful souls will remember her as one of punk’s most distinctive voices whose work with The Slits confounded and confronted the heavy-handed misogyny of much mainstream punk – The Stranglers, I’m looking at you.  
The death of Ari up has deprived music of one of its most original and unpredictable voices. It’s a truly sad day.


Illustration by Stéphanie Thieullent

“Ari Up: John Lydon’s step-daughter dies.” The Telegraph’s headline was horribly reductive. Ari Up, link who died on Wednesday at the tragically young age of 48, information pills was the punk legend’s step-daughter but that was just a small and tangential detail in a fascinating life and career. With The Slits and later with the New Age Steppers and solo in several guises, Ari Up was a musical icon in her own right, not a bit player on the fringes of the John Lydon circus.   


Illustration by Gemma Milly

The granddaughter of the owner of Der Spiegel and daughter of Nora Foster who was at the centre of the London music scene for years (befriending Hendrix and dating Chris Spedding before finally marrying Johnny Rotten), Ari Up was born from privilege and chaos in equal measure.  

Nora’s tendency to invite poor punk musicians to bunk down at their house put Ari at the heart of the scene and got her guitar tuition from Joe Strummer. She was 14 when she formed The Slits with Strummer’s former-flatmate Palmolive. Her fascination with reggae gave the band a dubby feel that was in sharp contrast to the guitar thrashing of many other punk outfits.  


Illustration by Aniela Murphy


Illustration by Abi Daker

The Slits debut album Cut, with its memorable image of the band naked but for grass skirts and a liberal coating of mud, featured a cleaner sound than their live performances. While the band’s cover of I Heard It Through The Grapevine is still an indie disco staple, the record is studded with gems particularly the amateurish piano and bouncing bass of Typical Girls.  


Illustration by Faye West

The Splits broke up in 1981 and Ari moved with her husband and twins to Indonesia and Belize before heading for Jamaica, an appropriate location given her an enduring love of reggae and dub. She performed and recorded with Lee Scratch Perry and released a solo album, Dread More Dan Dead, in 2005.  
In 2006, The Slits reformed to some critical acclaim, releasing the Return of The Giant Slits EP which was followed by a new full length record, Trapped Animals, in October last year.The Slits final work together, a video for the Trapped Animals track Lazy Slam, was released yesterday in accordance with Ari’s final wishes.  


Illustration by Gemma Sheldrake

A whirling dervish of dreadlocks and energy even when The Slits returned in their middle-aged incarnation, it’s with sad inevitability that Ari Up will be pegged as John Lydon’s step-daughter first and a musician in her own right second. But more thoughtful souls will remember her as one of punk’s most distinctive voices whose work with The Slits confounded and confronted the heavy-handed misogyny of much mainstream punk – The Stranglers, I’m looking at you.  
The death of Ari up has deprived music of one of its most original and unpredictable voices. It’s a truly sad day.


Illustration by Stéphanie Thieullent

“Ari Up: John Lydon’s step-daughter dies.” The Telegraph’s headline was horribly reductive. Ari Up, who died on Wednesday at the tragically young age of 48, medicine was the punk legend’s step-daughter but that was just a small and tangential detail in a fascinating life and career. With The Slits and later with the New Age Steppers and solo in several guises, more about Ari Up was a musical icon in her own right, not a bit player on the fringes of the John Lydon circus.   


Illustration by Gemma Milly

The granddaughter of the owner of Der Spiegel and daughter of Nora Foster who was at the centre of the London music scene for years (befriending Hendrix and dating Chris Spedding before finally marrying Johnny Rotten), Ari Up was born from privilege and chaos in equal measure.  

Nora’s tendency to invite poor punk musicians to bunk down at their house put Ari at the heart of the scene and got her guitar tuition from Joe Strummer. She was 14 when she formed The Slits with Strummer’s former-flatmate Palmolive. Her fascination with reggae gave the band a dubby feel that was in sharp contrast to the guitar thrashing of many other punk outfits.  


Illustration by Aniela Murphy


Illustration by Abi Daker

The Slits debut album Cut, with its memorable image of the band naked but for grass skirts and a liberal coating of mud, featured a cleaner sound than their live performances. While the band’s cover of I Heard It Through The Grapevine is still an indie disco staple, the record is studded with gems particularly the amateurish piano and bouncing bass of Typical Girls.  


Illustration by Faye West

The Splits broke up in 1981 and Ari moved with her husband and twins to Indonesia and Belize before heading for Jamaica, an appropriate location given her an enduring love of reggae and dub. She performed and recorded with Lee Scratch Perry and released a solo album, Dread More Dan Dead, in 2005.  
In 2006, The Slits reformed to some critical acclaim, releasing the Return of The Giant Slits EP which was followed by a new full length record, Trapped Animals, in October last year.The Slits final work together, a video for the Trapped Animals track Lazy Slam, was released yesterday in accordance with Ari’s final wishes.  


Illustration by Gemma Sheldrake

A whirling dervish of dreadlocks and energy even when The Slits returned in their middle-aged incarnation, it’s with sad inevitability that Ari Up will be pegged as John Lydon’s step-daughter first and a musician in her own right second. But more thoughtful souls will remember her as one of punk’s most distinctive voices whose work with The Slits confounded and confronted the heavy-handed misogyny of much mainstream punk – The Stranglers, I’m looking at you.  
The death of Ari up has deprived music of one of its most original and unpredictable voices. It’s a truly sad day.

Crude Awakening photo by Amelia Gregory
Gathering at Waterloo Station. Photo by Amelia Gregory.

It’s the day of the Crude Awakening. I walk into Waterloo station on Saturday morning and spot a few familiar faces. We wander around trying to look nonchalant, more about giving each other secret smiles. Some people manage to look more discreet and ‘normal’ than others; standing in a group to one side of me is a fabulous gaggle of drag queen laundry ladies, treat all answering to the name of Dot. (A few weeks ago police turned up at a few activists’ houses and were spotted searching them for clothes that matched those worn by people at the Climate Swoop at Ratcliffe on Soar coal fired power station last year. The Space Hijackers‘ Laundry ladies were on hand to give people “an instant restyling that the police fashion hounds were not able to keep up with”.) Suddenly, a little after 10am we give up on the nonchalance and things start to happen. A large collection of ‘oil’ spattered white jackets appear as if from nowhere, legal observers handed out ‘bust cards’ with useful numbers and info about your legal rights, and people started passing around little blue and yellow flags.

Beep beep. All around me I can see people reaching for their mobiles. Before the weekend we had all signed up for a text messaging service that would be sending out updates throughout the day.

text message crude awakening

We set off in a stream of people down the escalators into the tube. I can imagine it might be a bit of a shock for Saturday shoppers to suddenly come across hundreds of oddly dressed people! On the tube I get chatting to this ace older woman who wants to know all about us and is full of questions, thanks, and words of encouragement.

Crude Awakening sinisterpictures
On the train. Photo by sinisterpictures.

Our train is mysteriously delayed so we all pile out at the next stop and start walking through the streets of London. Apparently people overhear some cops running through the list of possible targets, trying to work out where we are going. Safe to say, they don’t work it out in time.

Crude Awakening photo by Amelia Gregory
Crude Awakening photo by Amelia Gregory
Police accompany activists as they reach Fenchurch Street. Photo by Amelia Gregory

When we get to Fenchurch Street station the shout goes out to head for Platform 4. We get onto the waiting train with still no idea where we are going. As the train heads out of the station an A4 flyer which is being passed around the train is thrust into my hand. We’re on route to Coryton, the UK’s busiest oil refinery (responsible for 22% of the UK’s forecourt demand)!

Crude Awakening sinisterpictures
Photo by sinisterpictures.

Hell yeah! I’d guessed that we were maybe going to target an oil company head office but we are actually going to go and put ourselves literally in the path of the flow of oil. Peak oil may be fast approaching but not fast enough that what’s left won’t royally screw up the climate if we burn it. Business, governments and other vested interests have shown time and time again that they don’t want to do anything about it. That means it’s down to us, together.

Kristian Buus crude awakening hedge
Photo by Kristian Buus.

The train is a hive of activity. People discuss the target as they go through the goody bags that have been handed out. Everyone tries on a carabiner wrist straps (a crucial part of arm tube lock-ons that we use to blockade spaces, and which make it easier for us to be removed from somewhere we have ‘locked on’ to).

Crude Awakening sinisterpictures
Photo by sinisterpictures.

Even while we are on the train 12 women blockade the only entrance to Coryton refinery by attaching themselves to the underside of vehicles but they won’t be able to hold the road for long without us. The three different themed blocs (Dirty Money bloc, Building bloc and Body bloc) hasten to join them.

Kristian Buus Crude Awakening police
Kristian Buus Crude Awakening dance
Photos by Kristian Buus.

Stanford-le-Hope is outside of the Oyster card zone so none of us have a valid ticket once we pass Grays. In what is to become a theme for the day there are too many of us working together for any obstacle to be insurmountable. We simply walk through the barriers out of the station and make our way to the refinery in our three different blocs, stopping briefly to pick up some kit stashed under a hedge on the way.

Crude Awakening sinisterpictures
Crude Awakening sinisterpictures
Photo by sinisterpictures.

Basically all the seriously under prepared police can do is follow us and watch us do precisely what we want. They have a go at seizing one of the tripods from my bloc and I heard rumours of attempted arrests (and prompt de-arrests) on the other blocs.

Kristian Buus crude awakening locals
Locals join the protest. Photo by Kristian Buus.

Crude Awakening sinisterpictures
Photo by sinisterpictures.

Travelling cross country we make it to our target location on the Coryton Oil Refinery entrance road, just up from the Shell Haven turning (two oil targets in one, woop woop!). There is a truly beautiful moment as, count ‘em, 12 tripods go up in moments and the road is ours. Now, you may not know this already but the ‘traditional’ metal tripods you see on protests are a bit of a pain-they’re blimmin’ heavy and take 4 or 5 people to erect. Bamboo tripods, as trialled in this video released before the action, can be carried, erected and climbed by just one person in a pinch.

Crude Awakening day of the dead stilt Jody Boehnert
Crude Awakening day of the dead stilt Jody Boehnert
Day of the Dead stilt bloc, photos by Jody Boehnert.

Through the day our blockade gradually grows as we are joined by other blocs, including the beautiful ‘Day of the Dead’ stilt walkers. We grow so strong that the police, after marching at the barricade in a little phalanx, are quickly forced to retreat and let us get on with it. But we do lift a small section of the blockade briefly though in order to let the workers out at the end of their shift. As we’ve said many times before, we have no quarrel with the ordinary workers of polluting industries; we’re on the same side.

Kristian Buus Crude Awakening scene
Photo by Kristian Buus.

Locals tell us that oil tankers normally drive up and down this stretch of road every few minutes so all the time we are there we are preventing thousands of gallons of dirty oil from reaching the capital – 375,000 gallons in total. What’s even better is the fact that this isn’t just us taking action. Crude Awakening is part of a global week of action called for by the Climate Justice Action Network (CJA). We are just one of many protests taking place on the same day by people from 22 different countries… from the Philippines to Argentina.

Kristian Buus Crude Awakening tripods
Photo by Kristian Buus.

Crude Awakening sinisterpictures
Photo by sinisterpictures.

It truly is an amazing day. 500 of us working together to stop the flow of oil with no one able to stop us. Oh, and the police have to hold the train station barriers open to let us on to the train home – the cherry on the cake of an empowering day.

YouTube Preview Image
Film by You and I Films.

Categories ,Blocs, ,Climate Camp, ,Climate Justice Action, ,Climate Justice Action Network, ,Climate Swoop, ,Coryton Oil Refinery, ,Crude Awakening, ,Direct Action, ,Jody Boehnert, ,Kristian Buus, ,Peak Oil, ,police, ,Shell Haven, ,sinisterpictures, ,Space Hijackers, ,Stanford-le-Hope, ,Tripods, ,You and I Films

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