My friend Cylene had had a disastrous night out a few days
before, so on my day off I took her for a meal at her favourite Ethiopian
restaurant (Kokeb in North London, in case you’re interested – and don’t be put
off by the astroturf bizarrely covering the front yard), and then for some
retail therapy in Camden. It is a truism among alternative people that ‘Camden
is not what it was’, but then that opinion has been current since about 1990.
In some places, ‘gentrification’ means rising property prices and less
prosperous residents being squeezed out; or it can simply mean that there are
fewer drug dealers in street corners and fewer pools of body fluids around the
pubs. It’s an ill wind that blows nobody any good. I have never seen much that’s
genuinely creative and edgy about Camden: it’s always been touristic and self-conscious.
Of course there are differences. The area seems to have
decided that the late Amy Winehouse is a bit of a draw, on the slender grounds
that she worked on a market stall there for a few months: her statue now stands
in the Stable Market and her image graces T-shirts and memorabilia in the
outlets. The one-stop Goth-shops continue to retreat and vanish, but one can’t
really lament too much the loss of opportunities to buy overpriced
synthetic-fabric corsets and coats that will fall apart after you wear them
twice. Of the higher-end retailers, Black Rose is still there, Sai Sai is still
there, Burleska Corsets are carrying on, and because Cylene wanted something
fluorescent we even ventured into the Stygian pit that is Cyberdog, still
plying its varicoloured wares despite the near-complete eclipse of the rave
culture that it ventured into once it decided cybergoth wasn’t enough to pay
the rent.
But then we found Psylo, and I thought that was genuinely
interesting. Its tribal/punk fusion aesthetic clearly isn’t marketed
exclusively, or even mainly, at Goths, but there was a Goth lady serving when
we were there and the schmutter is at
least Goth-friendly, provided your taste veers towards the punky or industrial
end of the spectrum. Natural fabrics, muted colours, well-made and showing
signs here and there of interesting design – although none of it is to my taste
as such, I was quite impressed. None of the clothes and accessories are cheap,
but there’s no reason why they should be.
I was more impressed still when I found out the background to the company – not so much the hippie-ish story of
its origins in the experiences of two Westerners travelling through the
developing world together or its hifalutin self-image, but its management and
organisation. The design team and production is based in Bali, and the
company’s major outlets are – apart from Camden – there, two in Mexico and two
in Thailand, which is an unusual profile to say the least. It seems to be a conscientious employer, a
developing-economy business based around exporting neither sweated
bargain-basement standard Western fare nor faux-ethnic costume, but something
genuinely different rather than just posing at being different. As I say, not
for me, but interesting nevertheless. Cylene even made a purchase.
My flute teacher used to describe the oboe as an ill wind that nobody blows any good.
ReplyDeleteI can't help asking whether he ever expressed any opinion of the bassoon.
DeleteHe was sympathetic to the low woodwind in general, though he did observe that the bass clarinet, if not handled with care, could sound like a problem with the U-bend.
ReplyDelete