Archive for the ‘ZINE’ Category

friday bits and blogs

Blogs>>> The week started with an evening at the January edition of the Oh My Blog workshop on Mastering Social Media hosted by‘s editor Cate Sevilla and guest mentor the Twitter/FB expert Mauricio Samayoa at the TechHub near Old Street roundabout. Cate and Mauricio each did slick, friendly presentations and there was an informal, supportive atmosphere (mmm wine) amongst the 20 or so bloggers in attendance meaning that everyone was happy to share their questions and knowledge with each other. I was scribbling away throughout, but the one thing that Mauricio mentioned that I remembered without looking at my pad was TweetStats, a tool which analyses your activity on the site. It’s a good way of checking how useful/effective your tweets are by collating data on your top @s and RTs. Made for some slightly terrifying stats when I checked ours but nothing unexpected!

After the workshop wrapped, we headed to the pub across the road for some proper chats and old fashioned social-networking (facetoface!). I’ll definitely be at the next Oh My Blog and have major respect for Cate – both for launching the fabulous Bitchbuzz and for sharing her expertise and connecting internet peeps through OMB.

Bits>>> Last year Phoebe and I were interviewed by Jade Warne, a features writer for Australian fashion magazine Shop Til You Drop about style zines and the piece has just appeared in the new issue of the mag. It’s always flattering to be included in zine features even after all these years, so thank you to Jade for contacting us. I’ll post the scans shortly, but in the meantime you can read them at Girl With a Satchel.

another pamf11 taster: TWITTER ME THIS!

@pamflet are bad twitterers – we sometimes forget that we have an account, we’re shy and self-conscious, we’re scared of making mistakes. [after a few major public spelling blunders]. But we do like reading/keeping up with other people’s minutiae-missives. How lovely to be able to observe like never before the lives of others: the untouchable sarah brown bigging up her charities or bearing witness to mad pop stars spluttering at their critics…HOWEVER there are several successful women on there [NO LINKS!] who at one point I might have looked up to, typing away a whole lot of tedium that i really don’t want to read. Everyone has bad days, crawl-down-a-hole-weeks, hate-filled hours, questions their existences [*CRISIS*]. They just used to do it in private. Somehow now it’s acceptable to reveal to thousands your existential hell: that you burnt the dinner, you’re sleeping in meetings or #fail whatever.

But what’s happened to professionalism? If you’re tweeting as a rep of an organisation, then throwaway (only they’re temporarily saved on the internet) remarks look sloppy and embarrassing. It smacks of self-deprecating i’m-a-bit-crap-ism. High profile women writers and media mavens have a duty to inspire, not just moan. To those who stray into questionable territory, i’d like to say: hey you’re my idol, so act like it! Even if people aren’t following you, they can read your updates, so tweet with caution. 

Our culture of casual empathy means that there’s no mystique, no glamour, just faux-honesty and familiarity and so-called *real life* in social networking… if Emily Dickinson or simone de Beauvoir or Sylvia plath was alive today would she be twittering? I hope not.

I’m not advocating the brushing of serious mental health issues (if that’s what’s behind your bad day) under the electronical carpet, just simply suggesting that sometimes it might be best to share your problems with a real person and show some dignity.

It’s amazing to read about women’s everyday lives via twitter and it can be an excellent support and networking tool but let’s not sell ourselves short via the medium by looking like idiots.

above: careerwoman @Barbie maintains a dignified silence at her home/office/studio.


Just to wet your appetite, here’s an article from our latest issue – Pamflet XI: the last of the famous international playgirls

If you want moremoremore, cast your eyes right and click on the Paypal button, or come along to the National Portrait Gallery on Thursday night where there’ll be Pamfs-aplenty, 2f0r1 drinks and us DJing winter warmers…


This was the song that got me jumping up and down like a mad thing on the stage at Camden Palace, the song that got me wearing bindis and skater chains and combats and crop-tops, that made me feel the first faint glimmerings of feminism – hell yeah, how dare you say I can’t do something cos ‘I’m just a girl!’

I must have first seen and heard it on MTV in the summer of 1995 and it completely stunned me. This beautiful, strong, angry girl, pogo-ing madly, doing press ups, leading her all-male band with this anthem that perfectly expressed everything inside me which I’d barely even felt, let along articulated at that point. Gwen didn’t stick a label on what she was doing, she just did it. I had spent years listening to grunge and Britpop and this felt and sounded so fresh.

Gwen looked like a girl – the Britpop chicks with their androgynous hair and clothes looked like boys. But with her lipstick and platinum coiffeurs, Gwen wore combats and trainers. She was physical, loud, brave and honest. She sang about loving boys who didn’t love you back, and talked about being the weird girl at school who had to work really bloody hard to look good and feel strong. She inspired me to be proud of being different, to embrace it and make it my strength, rather than something to be ashamed of and hide. I put away my tacky platforms and conventional clothes and started experimenting. It didn’t always work (pink n black bowl cut anyone?) and some might say I was simply swapping one uniform for another. But I consider myself very lucky indeed that as a suburban teen who didn’t fit in, I switched on the TV to see Gwen singing her heart out for me and all of us awkward girls.

That song screamed frustration and the refusal to be silenced anymore. Every time it played in a club, I came alive – jumping and singing ‘til my throat was raw – this was my song. She was saying it because we didn’t know how to. Just a Girl, yes, yet so much more to me.

playing in the ladygarden at ladyfestten

Yesterday we broke out the leopardprint on our very own stall in Ladyfest Ten’s Lady Garden space. In front of us, a surreal scene unfolded with craftivists knitting boobs and the London Word Festival Landgirls digging for victory and veg to print with.

We caught up with the supercool Victoria who was dropping off flyers for the upcoming Bust Craftacular on Sunday November 28 at York Hall in Bethnal Green. It’s going to be amazing, be there and get your Christmas shopping done in a trice.

Our stall was next to the Feminist Library‘s table – this amazing institution in Waterloo has a unique collection of second wave feminist literature and is run solely by volunteers. They are always looking for help in running the library so if you want to sign up visit their website and get involved.

PAMFLET XI: The last of the famous international playgirls.

Pamflet’s eleventh issue is about to go to press! it’s been 18 months in the making, so naturally it’s going to be our best ever issue with the least typos of all time and will feature:
try-hard trends/nuns/joan collins/girl geeks/boys who cry/twitts/the song that changed phoebe’s life/fallen idols/food/indie cliches/pictures of us/and more

rumours have been circulating that this will be our last ever print-issue of pamflet. we would like to respond to those rumours by saying: MAYBE. at the moment PAMFLET XI is just our latest/extremely late new issue and we have not made a decision on our paper-future. we would however like to reassure all of our concerned fans that even if we won’t be bothering any photocopiers with any further sticky pamf pages, we will be continuing to keep the spirit of pamf alive on this very blog with our thoughts on london girl-indie-pop-culture and anything else that happens to get in our way.

we’ll be letting you know how to get a copy of PAMFLET XI later this week so stay tuned!



"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