“Dressing is a matter of taste, and I've met very few glamorous types with good taste." Keith Watson
Nights out with good mates remain one of the highlights of my life. Yeah parenthood is pretty awesome, and being able to fund roof over head and put food in belly is an achievement but being able to go out with great mates and shake booty to old skool tracks and sink rosé is also pretty much up there on reasons to be cheerful list. You fret about what to wear, then fret about transport, then forget to continue to fret about either as once in the venue you drink, chat and dance with mates and even make a few new ones. Not exactly the most difficult formula clothes+transport+ good times= night out. What is not to be cheerful about!
The fretting about the clothes thing has usually been resolved with a sparkly top over a pair of jeans, a bit of lippy, and a couple of inches on the heel. The transport problems have been resolved by going out locally due to south east London/north Kent having dire transport links to the rest of London. And seeing I do live sauffeayst lundin into nauff khent there is a plethora of brilliant venues in which to meet my mates... the area is renowned for its love affair with dance music, so once the gang is all together under one roof... we’re onto good times.
However... a couple of things have changed recently. Our transport links have improved and suddenly the old formula seems to have got infected with a virus.
Last night I went out with my mates for a wobble around the handbag... and although I swear I was definitely out in my own locale...(I could tell... the crowd was doing the “woehoes” in the Fatback Bands “I found Lovin” with such passion an gusto. [Chanting ’Woehoe’ in the musical interlude whilst slightly bent forward, one hand over heart other arm splayed outwards, slightly over emotional shaking of head, all whilst stepping side to side]... everyone but my friends and I looked as if they had escaped from an episode of Jersey Shore...or worse... The Only Way is Essex!
What the HELL was with the very dark spray tan, obvious and huge hair extensions, massive fake eyelashes and nails, thick drawn on eyebrows and boobs pushed up so high that they sit under the chin. (And that was just the guys!!!) No seriously... I had to check the sat nav... for one moment I thought I was not out in south east London/north Kent. But sat nav defo said Latitude 51.41492 and Longitude 0.11493. I was still located sauffeayst lundin into nauff khent.
Should you be unfamiliar with the locale so Google sauffeayst lundin into nauff khent Google would bring up anything between Blackheath and Chislehurst with a side serving of Bromley and Dartford. Now, in this locale we take our nights out pretty seriously and you will find that everyone is catered for from age of majority through to age of retirement. (Though usually in different venues!)
However you can expect to feel the power of the bass wherever you go in the area for a night out. We have a history of dance culture going back into the fog of time, but the prevailing temperature is based on the SauffEaystLundin Soul Movement of the late 70’s. This historic change brought about a hitherto unknown phenomenon of even Caucasian males being able to dance extremely well. All our guys dance, all our girls dance... it’s kind of what we do... and we do it well. In fact our little pocket of London is kind of known for dressing for dancing rather than glamour. Not being able to cavort about in the centre of town due to shockingly bad transportation links meant that we made up our own rules and have been influenced more by the modesty of our home county Kent, than the big city we are nominally part of. Mottingham to Maidstone, it has always been more about busting moves than busting out. But yeah we scrub up well, but face facts we were the last place in the Greater London Urban Area to ban leisure footwear in night clubs.
London’s influence on South East London and North Kent was weakened due to the fact that historically we have not been linked to the rest of the city by tube. This means that a night out in the city poses a logistical nightmare when getting home. Black cabs frequently refuse to take people who live in any suburb home for fear of losing the more profitable short fares in centre of town. Those who live in the far flung East, West North and South West suburbs were serviced by underground trains that would run at antisocial hours. However SauffEaystLundin would become inaccessible after 10.30 when the last overground train would leave Charing Cross. Once a Black Cab driver caught wind of the dulcet tones of a SauffEaystLundin accent it was metre off for hire sign down. Geographical isolation followed. However, nothing can remove a SauffEaystLundiners right to party so to overcome this we created our own micro-society; we created party towns where we can wobble around our handbags till dawn without fear of hearing another accent. Nothing keeps a SauffEaystLundiner away from a good night out...after all WE are the people who invented the “woehoes” in the aforementioned Fatback Band classic.
However, a few years back, the powers that be finally looked at the map of London and pondered why it was that the tube network went no further south east than New Cross. They decided to have a good look around and thought “my goodness (!) there is infrastructure here... houses, schools, shops, churches.... loads of cafes bars restaurants and clubs.... and no frickin tube!!!”. So they connected us to the city via the DLR and Jubilee line extensions. Now I’m not ungrateful... it’s bloody nice to be able to get to London City Airport in half an hour or less. BUT... what those lovely city planners did not notice they did... was connect us closer to Essex.
Now we have the DLR and Jubilee line there is just one place we can get to quickly all day and practically all night.... Essex. It is now possible for the residents of sauffeayst lundin into nauff khent to find themselves in Brentwood (39 minutes) faster than finding themselves in Brent (65 minutes). Which in simple terms means ... it’s easier to get to Sugar Hut than Wembley from here!
Now for those of my readers who do not quite get the delicate politics of the geography of outer London. Here goes.... The Greater London Urban Area is the conurbation or continuous urban area based around London. Basically; South West London runs into its “home county” of Surrey, which kind of starts at Croydon and dissolves into rural Surrey after Woking. West London runs into its “home county” of Middlesex which kind of starts at Hayes and dissolves into rural Middlesex after Heathrow. Then North London has the “home county “of Hertfordshire which kind of starts around Elstree and dissolves into rural Herts around Potters bar. Of course SauffEaystLundin has the “home county” of Kent which kind of starts after Eltham and dissolves into rural Kent after the river Medway.
The East End of London overspills into Essex... which doesn’t quite recover from the shock until you get to the other side of Colchester... by which time you are practically in Suffolk!
Now every country has their Essex, and I have no disrespect for our upwardly mobile county. I’m not a snob about new money and deeply respect the self made men and women who work hard for their money and love to spend it on ‘improvements’.
Maybe if we good people who live between Mottingham and Maidstone spent less time wobbling round our handbags and practicing our dance moves, we too could have built empires in the worlds of construction, and hairdressing.
However such the new proximity of our flashy neighbours to the east... we cannot fail to be dazzled by them. Suddenly we appear to be the dullards compared to the glamour of them over the river spray tanning themselves into another race, attaching wefts of fake platinum blonde or midnight black hair to their mousy heads, pumping up their boobs and lips and finding themselves the shortest skirt and highest heels in Primarni.
The isolation of our little SauffEaystLundin bubble has been burst. Face facts - many of sauffeaystlundin’s famed dance venues are much more glamorous than the persons within them. So having closer proximity to the painted, inflated and powdered folk of Essex has of course made us think a sparkly over a pair of jeans doesn’t measure up.
And judging by last night we have taken the next steps... we are emulating their look.
However... I think we may just save ourselves.... from ourselves.
Our flashy neighbours look is perfect for the Sugar Hut where no one really builds up a sweat due the phenomenal amount of preening and posing involved. But who are we SauffEaystLundiners trying to kid.... two bars of The Plastic Population and we’re Slaves to the Vibe - Aftershoc stylee! It’s not a pretty sight all that sweat streaked slap. – but we can’t help ourselves.... we like to dance!
I reckon the dance will win... we just can't pull off the Barbie and Ken stuff and pull off moves worthy of Ciara and Chris Brown at the same time. I'm noted that by evening end false eyelashes were put away and a few comments were being uttered in the ladies that push up bras really don't offer much support when droppin it like it's hot!
Here’s hoping that on this trend....The Only Way is Up!
The JaxWorld Blog can be followed on Twitter- @JaxWorldBlog
If you enjoyed this blog and you want to contact Jax or find out more about the JaxWorld blog, pls log onto:http://thejaxworldblog.vpweb.co.uk/
Thanks for continuing to vote for JaxWorld as the Best Blog about Stuff and for ALL your support that has made this blog such a huge success.
No comments:
Post a Comment