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Tim Walker the Story Teller and Me.

Turning “fashion shoots into fairytales”, Tim Walker’s Story Teller exhibition at Somerset House is like entering a surrealist fantasy. An ill-fated replica Spitfire dominates the entrance hall, while over-sized snails skulk in corners, and six foot wasps form a string quartet (well, duh) that holds court in the midst of the magic.

Like Alice in Wonderland meets Narnia, Walker’s photography appeals to my essentially infantile imagination. As a child (encouraged by compulsive reading of The Four Seasons of Brambly Hedge) I believed trees were inhabited by families of self-sufficient mice, and spent hours knocking on knots in the hope of soliciting an invitation to tiny tea. I was convinced of the existence of Borrowers, thought frogs were princes and doggedly defended Father Christmas until I really was old enough to know better.

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Pamflet Presents… F*ck! I’m In My Twenties

This Thursday, 6 September we are hosting a very special Pamflet party to celebrate the launch of Emma Koenig’s book, F*ck! I’m In My Twenties, based on the Tumblr of the same name and we’d love you to join us!

We’re back at Drink,Shop&Dance to party like we’re 21 with our girl gang of 20-something DJs: T4’s Georgie Okell  with Verity & Georgina Langford to toast this potent document of urban angst, booze and fun times. There’ll be giveaways, crazy cocktails, special guests, mini-zines and the best music from our favourite artists in (or from when they were in) their 20s.

F*CK! I’M IN MY TWENTIES the book:

“A sweetly dark look at a life stage, something resembling the HBO series Girls, but defanged a bit. Like the scribbles on a ninth grader’s spiral notebook” [NY Times]

F*ck! I’m in My Twenties is crammed with irreverent missives, DIY diagrams, illustrations and tongue-in-cheek checklists that chronicle Emma’s experience as a twenty-something living in the big city. Including the best of her beloved blog, plus over 50% new material, this is a essential for anyone who has a love-hate relationship with this trickiest of decades. fuckiminmy20s.tumblr.com

“This is a must-have for anyone in their twenties who is experiencing any kind of frustration, ennui, or confusion. It is the ultimate reminder that you are not alone at any age.” Emma Koenig

Emma Koenig is 24. She does improv, writes the odd song and is basically trying to figure out her life.


Granny chic RULZ

“When I am an old woman I shall wear purple” is far too mild a sentiment for the Manhattan dames who are the subject of Ari Seth Cohen’s blog and soon-to-be-released film, Advanced Style. Cheerfully clashing colours, prints, patterns and accessories, these stylish ladies love fashion and delight in expressing themselves through their clothes. Hats, handbags, whacky sunglasses, stacks of bangles and always, always red lipstick, these women have a lifetime’s experience of using the tools of fashion in creative ways.

They are unimpressed by ‘trends’, having spent decades carefully refining their own personal, distinctive looks and trademark motifs. This is fashion as it should be; a medium for self-expression, something to be embraced and utilised rather than feared. With nonagenarian fashionista Iris Apfel as their most famous member, pensioner-punks and disciples of minimalism among them, the Advanced Style brigade show us how to enjoy fashion at every stage in our lives. Their philosophy is contrary- either less is more, or more is never enough. I like that. I can’t wait for the film to be released and we’re also looking forward to Ari Seth Cohen visiting London in the spring to support the release of his Advanced Style (available to buy from April 17.)

Image: Ari Seth Cohen, Advanced Style


SPECIAL PAMFLET ANNOUNCEMENT

We’ve been doing Pamflet now for more than 6 years, with the last 3 of those online in a blog format (we won’t count myspace!). We’ve now decided that the time has come to take the blog to the next level and introduce some advertising to the site and with this in mind we have joined the Glam Media community.

In 2005 we started making an unedited, all-over-the-place zine which said whatever we wanted it to about whoever we wanted. Although in some ways we and Pamf have changed a lot over the years, we still fully intend to keep our editorial stance the same as ever and just because we’ll be hosting ads, it doesn’t mean that we’ll change what we write.

Glam’s ads are tailored according to channel and we are in the Style section. We can’t control what appears, but we are able to say no to advertisements if we think they don’t fit with Pamflet. You’ll recognise the Glam logo from some of our favourite sites such as Bitchbuzz and Stylist Stuff so we’re in very good company!

Please bear with us during our experiment and thanks xx

Anna-Marie & Phoebe


TOWID? Are you kidding?

Today we are delighted to hand over blogging duties to our favourite ranter and raver, Verity Douglas…

[Image is a vintage Pamflet illustration by the mega talented Nick Gadsby – lauded by Vogue for his ‘Hogarthian graphics’ doncha know…]

So, this may be an elaborate joke but to my knowledge, Vice don’t make jokes because for them humour, like heroin, is so passé.

That said, it could all be ‘totes lolz’ and through being fool enough to mention it on this here blog, I’m inviting the unequivocal scorn of the Vice-brigade (def: dictators of “cool” who all, look, like… Terry Richardson?).

Anyway, enough of this Vice-beating (they love it too much) and back to the matter in hand. While idly perusing the interweb yesterday I came across a headline, so remarkable it made me choke on my full-fat (yeah, what?) latte. ‘The Only Way is Dalston?’ – wha-che-ke-wa-cha!!!? Wait: I’ve-got-flies-in-my-eyes. There’s-a-scratch-on-my-iPhone. I’ve-eaten-too-much-hallucinatory-cheese.I’m-not-awake.The.Only. Way. Is.D-A-L-S-T-O-N? Yep, there it is was, right there in black and white and irony.

Now, I am an unashamed devotee of TOWIE. It’s a guilty pleasure akin to having crisp sandwiches for dinner. The cast are ridiculous but infinitely likeable because they know they’re ridiculous and appear to take themselves the opposite of seriously. Amy Childs – perma-tanned, fake-boobed, fake-nailed – the unlikely hero of the hour with her accidental witticisms and proclamations of “Shat aaaap!?” long before anyone has even said anything. Yes it’s tacky and thoroughly unbelievable, but it’s also harmless, mindless viewing that I admit, frequently reduces me to tears of laughter. I’ll have two “extra reem Lobster Supremes” please Joey, with a side helping of “Cheers united”.

Now, imagine substituting Amy Childs with Amy “I live in a squat” Shoreditch and we have an entirely different enterprise. For not only is Amy Shoreditch a fully paid up member of the nouveau intelligentsia (modern day Withnails who don’t pay rent because they need the money for parchment and candles and torment), but she also takes herself very, very seriously indeed. And, she’s going out with Bartholomew Hoxton, who is actually aristocratic but has decided to disinherit himself because wealth is deeply “un-cool” (as dictated by Vice) and would (somehow) compromise his art. (N.B. His ‘art’ involves folding doilys from the £1 shop into miniature cravats which are worn by dancing frogs, whom he then films. It is a statement about the coalition government – appaz.)

Which leads me neatly to the crux of my postulations – namely that the concept of ‘The Only Way is Dalston’ has one, nay, several fundamental flaws:

1/ Dalstonitesare an incredibly serious breed who rarely venture far from their natural habitat. Like those queer jellyfish residing at the very bottom of the ocean, you have to plumb the depths to guarantee a good sighting. This would involve a great deal of loitering on behalf of camera crews – who are a restless bunch and get bored waiting outside £1 shops and art-house cinemas.

2/ True Dalstonites are creatures of very few words and audiences would soon tire of lengthy, loaded silences if their only reward were a mediocre haiku.

“the frogs aren’t jumping, their cravats are too heavy, like poor old Nick Clegg”

3/ Thirdly, however tempting the allure of promoting their cutting-edge cool to the plebeian masses, appearing on national television is the Dalstonite’s version of Catch-22. Where Heller writes of deranged bomber pilots trapped betwixt the air and asylum, the Dalstonite is in a far more difficult quandary – caught between perceived cool and actual cool. True – it’s a tight spot and my sympathy goes out to those unfortunate enough to find themselves in such a pickle – but let’s face facts; any Dalstonite worth their flannel would balk at the idea of being captured on anything less than 120 camera film. Anything other would detract from their unquantifiable mystique.

Therefore, if TOWID is a bonafide MTV offering and not just the Vice version of an April Fool (ha hahaaaa how totally post-cool of you), who on eastlondon would they persuade to appear in it?

I’m guessing, a westlondon try-hard with a dip-dye and a well loved (slash unread) copy of Ulysses. Race you to auditions?


Pamflovin’

"Vogue loves...Indie mags: Hogarthian graphics and modern feminism from Pamflet"

"It makes me feel less despair to know that somewhere deep inside the Jordanization of modern Britain there are still a few angry feminists out there." Zadie Smith

"Pamflet is the photocopy-quality soapbox for two young, sarky post-feminists from London who want women’s rights and the right to wear pretty things, and want it, like, yesterday." Sunday Times Style

"They’re funny and honest and write about fashion with feminism so I’m obviously all over it." Tavi

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