Monday, 11 August 2008

Brick Lane

To Brick Lane on Sunday.

Memories of the early 90’s when I was a regular visitor for a bit of anti-Fascist ‘direct action’. There’s not much danger of running into any Fascists in Brick Lane nowadays. Plenty of language students, fashion students, art students, Euro gap-year-ers and trusti-farians. Or numerous other sub-genres that require a stupid haircut and expensive second hand clothes that imply a knowing post-modern sense of irony.

The thing is I really want to like Brick Lane. I like the idea of the bohemian-ness of it all. It feels as if this is what city-life should be about. On a Monday morning when most my workmates are telling tales of football, birds and ‘Stella, I want to be one of those metro-sophisticate arty types. But when I’m actually there on a Sunday afternoon and confronted close up with their pretension, I can’t help wishing that they’d all just fuck off and get a proper job.

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