Thank Furcoat it’s Friday

1) I’m sure it’s considered pretty démodé to link to Vice, but I enjoyed their piece on awful photo poses – How to Look Like a Wanker at a Party. Definitely guilty of the Party Burqua move, although it’s more through a paralysing fear of photos than anything else. I also enjoyed playing ‘spot the people you know in the Vice photos’ game. I only got two, but I’m sure you can do better.

2) Time Out reviewed the Black Plaque app – and it sounds awesome. Currently half price, the app shows interesting facts about wherever you are in London. Except the facts aren’t things about the Beatles or the Great Fire of London, they’re far more interesting – ‘what your dad might describe as a bit fruity,’ as the review says. Dead cat effigies, sheep intestine condoms in a Soho sex shop, a man with a taste for dead leopards… Imagine the fascinating facts you’ll be able to bring to your post-work drinks??

3) When we were in Iceland we some guys posing in front of Geysir with lol-taches on. Stick-on taches, eh? Comedy gold. Total legend behaviour, instant profile pic material. Anyway – nothing new, as this series of pics from 1941 on Teenage demonstrate.  I quote:  “Sick of letting the boys have all the fun, the Young Women’s Republican Club of Milford, Connecticut decided to have a ‘smoker’ of their own. On the evening of May 20th, 1941, the girls drank, smoked pipes, wrestled, and had their very own strip-tease. Life Magazine’s Nina Leen documented the debauchery.”

4) There’s nothing I like more than a historical tale! Evelyn Nesbit is a fascinating case in point – teenage model, murder, Joan Collins… all sorts. First read this feature in my favourite New York blog this week then went on to read about a billion articles and add some books to my mental reading list.


5) We missed Reykjavik Fashion Week by a week (classic Gibson timing) but this video gives a good round up – and shows some beautiful Icelandic architecture and countryside too. And Taylor Tomasi Hill jumping around a bit. Watch this and tell me you don’t have that bastard song stuck in your head for the rest of the week. Go Iceland, anyway, I love you!

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