The Edge of Love

  A film I have always been attracted to especially production design wise has been "The Edge of Love" (2008) by John Maybury, to me it is a massive eyegasm with victory rolls, florals and other war-time lovelies. I am so into it that I have even decided to dress more in the style of the film's main two protagonists, Caitlin (wheyyyyyyy!) and Vera. Caitlin and Dylan Thomas were infamous for their relationship, their union suggested that a couple who drink together, stick together. Naturally this theme of alcoholism fits rather snugly into my current artistic practice. So I may even research more theoretically into Dylan Thomas' life.
   I am sure we have all been in a situation at some point in our lives in which you and your best friend like the same guy, and sometimes even in a sort of extreme situation, have ended up in some bizarre love triangle scenario. So this film focuses on the dynamic which is portrayed when two best friends have had/have a relationship with someone, and Cillian Murphy's character, Wiliam Killick states,

   "First love's all right as far as it goes; last love, that's what I'm interested in." which when you think about it, this quote could serve as the film's theme. 

   Also funnily enough, my mum being the lit nerd that she was in her younger years, saw the name of Dylan's wife when she was pregnant with me, and given the baby name specification she so desired which included Irish names only, actually named me after her. So in a bizarrely almost-narcissistic way, I probably feel I can relate more to her story due to our identical titles. 
   But aesthetically, some of the shots in this film are truly stunning. I spent a wonderful evening sipping tea and screen capping the shit out of this film.
   My personal favourites are the parts that pay close attention to small colourful details, i.e. a paint pallet, or a bright children's rattle. Or even the 5 second shot of Caitlin Thomas' son playing with a dead fish outside.

Not only that, the costume design is incredibly appropriate and accurate, particularly for day-to-day living in rural Wales, hats, long socks and wellies are the fitting uniform of convenience for harshly cold and rainy conditions.

Sorry for the shoddily out of focus quality of these photos. Just click to zoom. I just love that blue colour on her. 

Frolicking on the beach, seriously how skinny are they both? :/ In fact, when you look at photos of the real Caitlin MacNamara nee Thomas, you observe a massive chunk of historical inaccuracy. The real Caitlin definitely had more junk in the trunk...

I just want this jumper.. Caitlin wearing Dylan's chunky fair isle jumper in a time of crisis.

Sienna Miller looking like Emma Watson (???).

   Not only do the girls wear just day-clothes, on special occasions they don bright lipsticks, slickly rolled hair and pastel coloured suits. We see this in the court case at the end of the film, and when William returns from the war, Vera gussies herself up nicely. As much as I love their "formal" wear, I prefer the outfits they sport mucking round Wales, that is just a personal perspective though. I'm more of a dressed-down gal myself.

Wahhhhh how gorgeous is this shot?! Love the depth and sadness in it.

Sozzzz for the Play symbol. HER HAIR!!!

The story moves into the courtroom near the end of the film.

   Caitlin and Vera's emotional goodbye, even thought they were rivals, and one of their husband's ruined the other's quality of life, they were still "best friends" and vowed to write to each other.
   Also if anyone knows of any films that are similar in terms of costume design, give me a shout please.

Loose Lips Sink Ships

   I am just ob-sesssssed with the "Land Girl" style anyway of late. I even made a Pinterest board. See? I'm so committed.

   I see a economic struggle around me, particularly as an art student, which leads to a necessary creativity, a modern "make do and mend" if you will. My housemate last year made Christmas decorations out of granny porn i.e. those Mills & Boon books you can get in Smiths. Girls around me are hemming and tying and making something new out of nothing at all. And this as an artist since I can remember, always fascinated me. I am really into blogs like Vixen Vintage, she can tie THE PERFECT head scarf. And she owns so many tartan skirts and saddle shoes. <3.

 Why the shit are there no saddle shoes anywhere in England by the way? Is anyone else facing this problem? If I find any they are cheesy 1950s rockabilly girl fancy dress and they suck. I want the real deal, y'all. Someone hook me up, please.

Anyway, here is a plethora of photos of things that I think are pretty/fit into my Land Girl obsession reverence. I'm thinking, victory rolls, overalls, dungarees, head scarves and tea dresses.

Owwh Rory. This is kind of where my Land Girl love was sparked again, in this particular episode of Gilmore Girls, "We've Got Magic To Do" in which Rory throws a WWII themed DAR party. Just- her hair. It helps that Alexis Bledel seems to really suit the vintage look (see below).

A shot of Alexis Bledel taken from one of my favourite photoshoots ever, "American Icons" by Amy Spencer featuring famous actresses donning the look of American pioneering women of history.

Some bint with banging hair and a fabulous ride- source: http://puttarukka.tumblr.com

TEA DRESSES!!!

Rita Hayworth. Source: http://vintagedressups.blogspot.co.uk/2009/09/1940s-hair-and-make-up_16.html

Vixen Vintage's Solannah with one of her impeccable headscarves. What originally started out as a safety measure to avoid the female factory worker's hair being tangled up into dangerous machinery, then ended up a pin-up fashion statement for years to come. Source: http://www.vixen-vintage.com/2010/01/how-to-tie-40s-headscarf.html

   There's also the formal suit wear of the 40s which showed a proportionate shoulder/hip balance, puffed and accentuated shoulders usually in pastel colours, and the famous . I'm not as knowledgable on this style as I am the Land Girl style but I still think it's a really strong look.

Some 1940s style tips, featuring "swing shirts" and the like. Source: http://www.myhappysewingplace.com/2011/03/pinafore-inspiration-part-2.html

Another costume design gem, "Miss Pettigrew Lives For A Day". Source: http://www.fanpop.com/clubs/miss-pettigrew-lives-for-a-day/images/8462748/title/miss-pettigrew-lives-day-photo?ir=true

"Service women checking out new, artificial silk-plated stockings specially designed for them c. 1943"

  Anywho- I am definitely going to be channeling my inner WWII factory worker-cum-land girl this summer. Particularly at Glastonbury Festival, which I have rather loserishly been planning what I'm going to wear for it. Whilst my best friend intends to grow some dreadlocks and wear Indian/African/beautifully ethnical looking prints, I am going to be V-Daying it up.

  I EVEN DREW THINGS FOR IT.

   Yes so the above depicts my summer sketchbook, a leather bound notebook I got from when I was in Turkey last year, it is small and compact enough for me to take everywhere with me for random ramblings that roam in my head that need to manifested on paper. I have these thoughts and ideas that are expelled out of my pen. I did the majority of these sketches whilst en route home to Bucks from Norfolk, so hopefully they're not too shaky (the Loose Lips Sink Ships typography was haaard to execute).
   To be honest a lot of these things I tend to wear and do anyway, i.e. the fairisle jumpers and floral patterns and brogues are forever on my feet, it's the A-Line skirts and headscarving I need to work on. But I feel as though I already have a little head start, my friend Emily (her writing is here, if you want to read something touchingly personal and tender, yet sharply concise when it comes to matter of style and beauty, check her out) calls me her Land Girl for shits et gigs after all.

Hogging the Middle Lane: The awkward moment when your cabbie defends the EDL

   “But the man was black and had a black dog and wore black clothing and walked on the dark country lane-“ The woman on the radio with the thickly East-Anglia accent almost screeched out of the back seat speakers, the topic for discussion was the new charge that accompanies “hogging the middle lane” on motorways, a subject most motorists feel passionately about. Anything that causes road rage should be reprimanded, in their opinions. I dunno maybe get some anger management therapy instead… Maybe? Call me a Freud groupie but this kind of anger usually stems from something else. As said to me once by a qualified therapist I used to know, “usually you are not angry at the external situation, it’s just the external situation that has made you angry about something internal.”

   Road rage has always been something I could never get my head around, in all fairness, I do not drive. My driving experience spans as far as my dad plopping me in the driving seat of his Astra and then instructing me to stall the car at least 11 times, a probably psychologically scarring experience that explains my aversion to joining the motorist gang and my recently hilarious mistaking of the handbrake for the clutch.

  Anyway… This woman’s voice rang with the typical Eastern England screech, typically associated with Essix[1]. She barked words about “dark” and “black” as she described her motorist tribulations, a man wandering about a dark country road in the middle of the night with no visibility gear. One thing that naturally got picked up on was her highlighting of the pedestrian’s ethnicity, she and Nick Conrad (the DJ at the time) discussed his clothing, “he should have worn high visibility gear” and “sometimes even wearing white is encouraged”[2]. At one point Nick mentions awkwardly that her comments on the man’s racial origins may be picked up on by listeners, and boy, were they.

   Because what for me, was really poignant about this woman’s spiel was plainly the tone of voice she used to describe this pedestrian’s skin tone. She spat out the words, as if trying so forcibly to avoid the touchy subject by overcompensating in her spoken expulsion of “black man.” Her absurdist portrayal made me imagine a 1920’s gollywog man with shoeshine for face paint wandering up and down the road. And to me this was not a comical thought. It made me sad.

   Because this man, obviously, can’t help his skin tone. Just like how I can’t help mine when I turn lobster red when in the playhouse garden in June[3]. It’s genetic, uncontrollable, and part of a person’s visual identity. Yes, his clothing can be helped, I give the anonymous caller that, he could have donned a high visibility jacket, even given the dog a “blind dog” style bright yellow lead. But the colour of this man’s skin is unavoidable, unnecessarily picked up on, and used against this man like it is at his fault. And it. Is. Not.

  So in the back of the cab I shook my head and muttered; “that’s ridiculous.” Ever had that thing where you literally can’t not verbalise your thoughts? That’s what happened[4]. “She is actually being borderline racist.” Borderline racist. Different to full on racist.

   “I think people are too quick to play the racism card though. He was a black man walking a dark street at night.” The cabbie drawled. I sighed. Were we really going there and reprimanding this man for his skin colour? An act of hatred that has been echoed in history for hundreds of years? “I’ve driven lots of black people in my time. And you’d be well- surprised. Often black people are racist about white people.” And that makes it acceptable?! “I recently drove a member of the EDL and he wasn’t actually racist, not at all. He just thinks Britain should be kept British” I felt my mouth beginning to press into a thin line. “That Christianity should be kept in schools, he wants his children to be bought up and not be Muslim.” Be muslim!!? Like it’s some sort of metamorphic type transformation!!? I was quiet. My brain felt all scrambled and angry. I stared blankly at the fish and chip shop we rode past that was ran by a Vietnamese couple and I wondered- what even was British anymore? 

   Sure this man had his opinions on the immigration laws in Great Britain, but that to me certainly does not mean an eye for an eye. I remember finding out recently that the man who murdered the soldier in Woolwich said afterward “an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.” A cruel twist on one of my favourite, and most relevant-to-life quotes of all time.[5]

   Afterwards the driver then made phatic chit-chat on “what the new bakery down the road” was like, and I felt a weird cloud lift out over our heads. Maybe cab conversation should be kept like this, small and chatty.

   But this is something I have always struggled with, I am not the person at the dinner party who raises her hands and laughs “woah woah- this conversation got deep.” I can’t extrapolate interestingly and eloquently on the weather, today it was sunny. That was it. So maybe this woman was right to speak up about “the black man”, she didn’t shy away and that was almost admirable. However I couldn’t fathom what she was trying to say, no matter how I looked at it. I had my opinions and they had theirs, and we all had to try to inhabit this country together, like 4 disagreeing housemates bickering about the washing up.

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[1] Essex, county in England.

[2] I apologise to BBC Radio Norfolk and the people involved in these quotes if inaccurate, I feel as though I get the main point of them, but they are paraphrased as cannot remember what was said word for word.

[3] My shoulder’s are radiating heat right now. Literally.

[4] This blog is called “I Have Opinions” for a reason y’know.

[5] “An eye for an eye only ends up making the whole world blind.”