Stanfords Bookshop, Covent Garden

Stanfords is an incredible travel bookshop located on Long Acre in Covent Garden.

Samuel Johnson once said ‘when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford’. I couldn’t agree more. That said, it is nice to dream of visiting far-flung places every now and then. Or, you may choose to use your precious time in London as a springboard to visit other European destinations for a weekend. Whatever your inspiration, escape the hustle and bustle of tourist-laden Covent Garden and transport yourself anywhere you desire in the world – care of this amazing travel bookshop.

Stanfords is bursting with maps scaling every inch of the globe, stylish city guides, an abundance of Lonely Planets and clever gadgets to satisfy the geekiest of gadget lover. It stocks a fantastic range of modern travel fiction and non-fiction to take the place of a backpacking buddy and browsing the shelves is a global adventure in itself. You can also pick up some truly unique gifts and go on, treat yourself to a beautiful  journey to capture on paper all of your own travel tales. It opened in 1901 and past customers include Florence Nightingale and even Sherlock Holmes (in The Hound of the Baskervilles) adding to the sense of history and quintessential London.

Stanfords has an in-store Sacred Café, serving typical New Zealand organic fair trade coffee roast and a range of teas. Hearty food adds to a real Antipodean experience in London.

I love whiling away a few hours in Stanfords because, like travelling itself, entering through the doors is an adventure into the unknown and always inspirational. You may only intend to browse or buy a gift, but guaranteed you will leave with a head full of dreams and solid plans for your next trip.

Although you won’t be able to stay away from London too long of course.

Soweto Kinch - Rich Mix, London, 13 December 2013

For any readers currently unacquainted with Soweto Kinch, now is the time to get comfortably familiar with the award-winning British artist. Kinch is a gifted alto-saxophonist, producer and MC whose ingenuity allows him to straddle effortlessly both the jazz and hip hop scenes.

A Mercury Music Prize nominee and MOBO Award winner twice no less, his deft skills have gained worthy recognition in the urban music world. He he has further flexed his considerable talent by writing scores for musical theatre, acting, collaborating and performing with other notable artists and guest curating at festivals. I had my first experience of Kinch at the Jazz FM Love Supreme Festival where his compelling sound provided the perfect accompaniment to blazing hot weather and crisp chilled cider. Kinch, along with Andreya Triana, was in my opinion one of the standout British acts from the festival lineup and so I was looking forward to seeing him in my home town.

Kinch used to play at Rich Mix regularly on a Sunday evening, and so in some ways this gig was a homecoming. The intimate venue provided the perfect setting for the performance; low-key and unassuming but impressive all the same and with a cool crowd lounging comfortably on plush seats or standing as near to the stage as possible ready for some action. London-based producer and globally respected DJ Eric Lau warmed up the crowd beautifully with soulful beats that thawed the freezing night and kick started the head-nodding and all round good vibes.

From behind closed doors the faint but distinct sound of a saxophone could be heard, Lau slowed down the tempo of his last record and Jazz FM presenter Chris Gilvear  jumped on stage to make a warm introduction before the man himself appeared bang on time. Without words, in a striking deep burgundy jacket, he produced a smooth clean sax sound in an effortless solo, his face drawn with intense concentration and his fingers moving so animatedly and impressively it was hypnotic. THAT is how you open a show with impact - no words needed.

Joined by a very tight backing band featuring Moses Boyd on drums and Nick Jurd on bass, Kinch confirmed all material from the evening would be taken from the influential 2013 album The Legend of Mike Smith, a Dante-inspired jazz journey through modern-day manifestations of the seven deadly sins. With a richly textured laugh and infectious grin he invited the up-for-it crowd to partake in some seriously good audience participation on Invidia. With speed-defying rapping, the crowd responded eagerly with fervent cheers of appreciation and responsive shouts of the chorus line 'When will I be getting mine?'.

Throughout the performance he showcased his versatility to dazzling effect, seamlessly mixing jazz with hip hop with spoken narrative and blurring the boundaries. Being at one of his gigs is not just an exuberant musical journey, it is an education. A poetic and intelligent lyricist with a degree in Modern History from Oxford University, as a writer I learnt words that I am ashamed to say do not currently exist in my vocabulary. The Board Game got us all going again, as Kinch confidently navigated the crowd and divided us in two ready for a battle in song. One side was invited to 'imagine you are all really rich, fat cats' and shout out the line 'privatise the gains!'. I, fortunately, was a Proletariat who wanted to 'socialise the losses' and as we were invited to join in on his cue, he played the crowd off against each other to great vocal effect.

Traffic Lights had a mean bass and synth intro, mirroring the album version, and initiated further appreciative head-nodding from the trendy crowd upfront. Kinch is highly regarded as an improvising musician and having heard him showcase this particular talent a few months ago on Jazz FM, the main highlight of the gig for me was the freestyle rap. Kinch explained that for every single letter in 'Rich Mix', he needed a creative word from the audience to transform into an improvised piece. The crowd was willing, offering the most tongue-twisting, difficult-to-articulate-on-the-surface words they could think of. 'Razzmatazz!'. 'Ingenuity!' ('damn London people who come with special words for me', said Kinch good-naturedly). 'Christmas!' said someone, seasonally. 'Ho, Ho, Ho!' said another, appropriately. 'Indigo!', noted Kinch, was a Duke Ellington reference for all the Jazz aficionados. He effortlessly meshed all the words together and produced a brilliantly funny festive-themed rap.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e0TjkH-yugA&w=420&h=315]

Better off Alone was the most vocal song of the performance with a catchy riff. With The Bounce, Kinch said to the crowd, 'if you want to dance, dance' and dance they did. A bit more liberally, buoyed up by the freestyling, the laughing and beer. The show concluded with The Healing and sadly, it was over too soon. Eric Lau, described beautifully by Kinch as 'a prolific beat making beast' closed the night.

At the end of the gig, I got to meet the great man himself who was unpretentious, self-deprecating and chatted about recently flying back from Martinique. He signed an impressive USB flash drive with two albums worth of music on it and even a video, no less. I was also fortunate to meet Moses Boyd, the drummer who was also charming and passionate about his work.

With his performance, Kinch took us on an exciting journey of musical virtuosity and experimentation. One of his many notable skills is the ability to fuse fast-paced hip hop tracks with jazz-infused melodies with ease. Throw into the mix righteous political messages, formidable vocabulary and a great huge dollop of natural talent, plus added charisma and natural rapport with the audience, and you know you are onto a good thing.

Soweto Kinch, a thought-provoking and influential British artist and to the best of my knowledge, the only man who can freestyle using the word razzmatazz. If he can draw a greater and more varied audience into jazz then that is a job well done.

http://www.soweto-kinch.com

https://twitter.com/sowetokinch

https://en-gb.facebook.com/pages/Soweto-Kinch-Official/157925057577022

 

Fashion Inspiration - Maria Soromenho

The world of fashion is, arguably, dominated by the giant heavy weights, the icons. Chanel. Victoria Beckham. Oscar de la Renta. Erdem. To name but a few. The upper echelon of the fash-pack command the advertising pages of the glossy magazines (that I adore) and dominate the catwalk. They are the names to know, the collections to study, the looks to emulate and translate into your day-to-day wear.

But inspiration can be found in many places, and sometimes it's the emerging newbies, the just starting-outs, the underground movers and shakers that can influence and catch your eye.

May I introduce you to Maria Soromenho.

Maria contacted me recently about her first capsule collection, launched in August 2013, and I was intrigued by its unconventionality and taken in by the distinctive textures, the detail and striking colours of her work. Handcrafted sequins, beading and studs cleverly juxtapose leather and leopard skin and create a unique and fresh look. Her work is extremely influenced by music and art, and as a lover of both and of all things fashion related, I am particularly excited to showcase Maria's work on Material Whirl.

A clothing brand that is music / art conscious. Has the aim to collaborate with artists specially musicians. Each piece is different and unique. An experiment of materials and different textures. Experimental yet wearable. Each piece has a story, a song and a name. Fashion to communicate, give identity and to turn a lifestyle into a look that can be translated in clothes. An aim to shape a generation anddress the agitators. Not just about the clothes alone but how people dress them.

Born in Setubal, Portugal, Maria lived in Lisbon and Paris where she studied Stage Design and interned at the museum Les Arts Decoratifs being part of the organisation of the exhibition "Hussein Chalayan: recits de mode".  Having briefly studied Womenswear at the London College of Fashion she also managed to get an impressive collection of internships under her (very stylish) belt including the prestigious Peter Pilotto and Richard Nicoll in London, and with the very influential Wonderland Magazine. She is currently Studio / General Manager and in-house PR at Fannie Schiavoni.

Talented and one to watch. Maria, I wish you all the best and hope to add something from your collection to my wardrobe soon.

Pieces from Maria's collection can be purchased from Kuji Shop

facebook.com/mariaasoromenho mariasoromenho.tumblr.com

cigaretteinmybed.tumblr.com

http://cargocollective.com/mariasoromenho/The-Holy-Velvet-at-Heart

 

An ode to the X68 bus

Oh X68, or eXpress 68 to give you the full title you so gallantly deserve. Travelling aboard your blue speckled double decks is such sweet sorrow. You are the bane of my commuting life yet you know all too well I would be lost without you.

There are countless reasons why the seemingly uneventful journey from West Croydon to Russell Square is so eventful, my current route to work now that I am living temporarily in the Crystal Palace area, but here are some of the reasons why I love you, X68.

1. You laugh in the face of the bus timetable (helpfully available in PDF form on the TFL website). You are a free spirit, the nomadic pilgrim of South London. You are not restricted by life's inane structures or plans. You drive to the beat of your own drum. You turn up when you feel like it, preferring to operate by the timetable of life. What I really mean is you are usually sodding late.

2. Sometimes you choose to terminate short of your final destination and instead of concluding at Russell Square, as advertised on the overhead destination board, you stop somewhere else en route. Like Kennington. Or Camberwell, setting us a Krypton Factor-esque challenge to get to work via alternative means - on foot, by tube, via a hitchhiked ride for the more desperate. This presents another problem to solve ahead of an already full day and is both stimulating and good for developing my navigation skills. Thank you.

3. In the nicest way, your drivers are mildly psychotic. Cyclists in the bus lane, traverse at your peril. Passengers who speak to or obscure the driver's vision while the bus is moving? I wish you luck. Running for the bus in a frenzy, perspiring and cursing along the way? Chances are they will wait until you are an inch away from making it and then close those whooshing doors, laughing maniacally like Vincent Price at the end of Thriller. I have seen it with my own eyes. I have also been that passenger, keeled over gasping for breath and shaking my fist at the back of the bus. (Swearing).

4. Said drivers have rather a penchant for the brake pedal. This creates a jolting, bumpy jaunt with repeatedly abrupt stops and starts and leaves poor unsuspecting passengers flying all over the bus, flailing their arms wildly and hanging onto a pole for dear life. Composing a text or reading at least one page of a book is virtually impossible without the use of Hyoscine to ward off extreme travel sickness. Some poor woman the other day ran off with her hand over her mouth ready to spew, the roller coaster ride too much to endure. I could feel her pain. Wedged at the back last week between two hefty gentlemen I had to take deep gulps of breath and fix my glare on a stable object to avoid my own unfortunate puking incident.

5. The commanding announcement 'this is an express service and will now run non-stop to Waterloo' always, without fail, prompts the Theme from S-Express to whirl constantly around in my head for the entire journey. Despite this announcement that confirms the service runs continuously to Waterloo, there is always some poor b*gger who does not know the drill. They are an X68 virgin if you will. They want to get off in West Norwood please, they do not require the onward hour journey to Waterloo, thanks very much. They innocently ding the bell in good time, ready to disembark. Ding. As the driver continues past their stop they press it again, a little more firmly. Ding. Perhaps the bell is not working. Ding. Oh dear, maybe the driver hasn't heard, oh well never mind I'll get off at the next stop. Ding. Then sheer panic sets in. They are not getting off this bus anytime soon. Ding. I am going AN HOUR out of my way and will be horribly late for work. Ding. My boss will never believe me. Ding. Perhaps I'll never get off. Ding. OH GOD. They realise no amount of 'DRIVER, LET ME OFF!'s are going to work here. Ding. Ding. DING. (For those Breaking Bad devotees, think of Tuco Salamanca's uncle Hector and that incessant bell). Someone bravely whispers 'you can press the emergency button to open the doors' and someone else says encouragingly 'go, run for your life'! As they press the red button heroically they are released into the fresh air and we wave, smiling sadly, as we continue on our jerky way.

Yet, how can I possibly moan? You take me all the way from home to Waterloo (usually) without stopping. Thus, you are slightly superior to the 68 or even the 468, parallel services that run along the same route more or less but have to stop. Ha. Inferior route sisters, we laugh at your perpetual stopping. You offer unbeatable views of amazing London town and all it has to offer.  As the brilliant Phil Earle quoted in his article for The Guardian 'one minute it's the electric buzz of Elephant and Castle, the next time I look up, I'm in the shadows of the glorious South Bank and Big Ben'.

Your passengers are true heroes. A quick peek on Twitter reveals that you already have your own admirers, your bus groupies, throwing themselves at you and queuing up to get on board. The X68 has a unique passenger community of its own, amazing individuals with an unbreakable spirit, a strong stomach and a cracking sense of humour. I have noticed some passengers embark, courageously say hello to the (psychotic) driver and take their time to wave at people they know, say hi, as if it they were among great friends rather than fellow commuters.  I love these guys. Some of them also tweet gems such as 'Honestly, the X68 bus never fails to entertain. Always a drama!', 'The mighty X68 bus is like warp drive to S London'... and 'Power to the people! X68 bus driver goes off course, his passengers start shouting directions. #humansatnav saves the day'. This makes me smile a lot and feel part of a high-achieving team. I'm an X68'er and proud of it.

When I move back to the East End next year, I am not ashamed to say that I will miss it - the unpredictability, at times the downright cruelty of it all, the jerkiness, and the drama.

X68. I've got the hots for you.

 

ISABEL MARANT POUR H&M

I am plagued with anxiety this week about a looming deadline. THURSDAY 14 NOVEMBER. It has been sitting, waiting patiently for a while now in my diary. Written in huge scrawling letters, in blue pen no less - not pencil, as indicates its significance. It is even double underlined.

It keeps me awake at night, images fluttering around my head and unnerving thoughts of how I can make it possible, how I can achieve this seemingly impossible feat. It is not directly associated with my day job, which itself is jammed full of deadlines and dates and the like, nor thankfully does it have a direct impact on my health or relationship with my husband, family or friends. Debatably.

Yet, it is nearly here and I am nervously perspiring a little more each day as it looms and will finally reach its climactic end.

Isabel Marant's much awaited collaboration with H&M finally hits stores and online this Thursday.

What? Me? Dramatic you say? Your heart was racing for nothing? Pah! You may consider me theatrical, perhaps roll your eyes upwards to heaven, but believe me when I say this is a huge, huge deal. Gargantuan. It has been firmly in my diary since the news first broke back in June and in my eyes all November days lead to Marant.

Isabel Marant is arguably the most influential womenswear designer of our time. She has singlehandedly changed the way we dress. As the fabulous Mimi Spencer recently said, No one has done more to author the look of the decade than Marant. I would bet my entire collection of Vogue that you wear at least one of the following items: Printed trousers, ankle boots, a studded something. Bashed-about leather. Skinny jeans with an ankle-grazing cut. A beautiful embroidered jacket, a grey marl T-shirt and of course the ubiquitous wedge-heeled trainers that have been imitated so widely but never beaten. Yes? Well, you have already been touched by the power of Marant, and its rock n’ roll bohemian edge has snared you in its fabulous trap.

Marant, born and raised in Paris, started her eponymous label in 1994 after graduating from the acclaimed Studio Bercot and working her way up through the fashion line. The A/W 2010 collection saw the hit python print pattern while S/S and A/W of 2010 brought us leather motocross trousers and fringed cowboy boots. The collection for H&M edit of the key pieces taken from her archive. So in effect you can get your hands on a reinterpreted piece of fashion history.

That effortless, casual insouciance and very Parisian way of dressing has always remained firmly in my head / look book / magazines but devastatingly never ever in my wardrobe due to its significant price tag, despite the diffusion line Etoile being a slightly more affordable option (if I forewent food).

However, an affordable way to channel Marant / Carine Roitfeld / Lou Doillon and those other French hotties is now all but a finger’s grasp/click away. Plus there is a menswear debut for the Parisian brand, which is exciting in itself, and a campaign that features Milla Jovovich, Doillon, Daria Werbowy and Saskia de Brauw, as well as male models Guillaume Macé, Clément Chabernaud, and Niels Schneider. Zut alors!

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ci7JMO-YrI&w=420&h=315]

Yet, is it a case of so near yet so far as I fear? To purchase a piece of Marant presents the following dilemmas:

1. Going to my nearest participating H&M store. Gulp. Queuing at dawn, or perhaps camping out and sleeping in a sodden tent, sharpening my elbows, pushing other hungry fashionistas keen for a piece of the Marant magnificence, tussling over a printed sweatshirt or chainmail cuff. Plus, the last time I visited the flagship Oxford Street store to buy something from the Paris Fashion Week Collection, they had an in-store DJ. She was dancing. It was 2.15 pm in the afternoon. Time, energy and age are not on my side - I know only too well what determined twenty-somethings can be like, I used to be one. In addition, I have a very busy day job and thus kicking myself for not booking the day off in advance. There is also The Queuing System in place specifically for the ladieswear collection, which sounds terrifying. There are coloured bracelets, allocated to groups of twenty customers, and the colour determines when it is your time to shop/fight. So I am hoping positively there will be something left post-5pm as opposed to a solitary jacket in a not-my-size size.
2. Being alert and ready online at 09:00 on the dot, and super sharp with my clicking to purchase via the website. After all, I have done my research, I have planned and plotted and prepared for this deadline. I have studied every single one of the fifty-two iconic pieces, deliberated and subsequently selected what I want, saving ferociously. When it comes to fashion I am a certified Grade-A geek and I hope my hard work will reap the rewards. Should be easy, right? No website crashes, no other clever clogs with the same idea? Reasonably (tut) purchases are limited to a maximum of one item per person ‘so that everyone can buy something from Isabel Marant pour H&M' so this makes my head kind of spin. I also have an afore-mentioned day job that I love and do not think shouting PLEASE WAIT I AM BUYING ISABEL MARANT POUR H&M will cut it.
3. Purchasing on eBay, although there is talk that the collection has already found its way on to the online auctioning website thanks to some people buying pieces at a preview sale and sneakily putting them online at hugely exaggerated (example). How business savvy. How impertinent.

So it looks like I am going to have to work hard for my fringing and my tribal prints. I am having dreams (nightmares) about the trophy jacket with beaded embroidery (£199) selling out - but I am going to try my damnedest to get it even if I cause myself an injury, a Marant malaise if you will.

I am not sure my nerves are quite up to this but I'll keep you posted. It will be brutal.

Good luck out there…

Isabel Marant for H&M launches in-store and online from November 14.

http://www.hm.com/gb/isabel-marant#see_all

http://www.graziadaily.co.uk/fashion/news/isabel-marant-h-m

http://www.isabelmarant.com/en/

I consider this collection a gift to my lovers...

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bmzRLasJpp0&w=420&h=315]

 

Dishoom!

So to Covent Garden on a beautiful, boisterous Thursday night in London where the autumnal light was suitably golden and there was music and merriment in the crisp air (and excessive post-work wine). A perfect night to visit Dishoom, London's first ever Bombay Café and a modern, fresh interpretation on Indian food.

Dishoom first opened its ornate doors in Covent Garden in July 2010 and is named after an old Bollywood sound effect, made when the brave hero lands a cracking good punch, or when a bullet flies through the air. It is similar to popular slang usage of the expression mojo or he's got Dishoom!, and mojo it certainly has evident by the sizeable queue of patient diners chattering outside (and offered a steaming hot chai to warm their cockles while they waited). The original ‘Irani’ Cafés of Bombay, which inspired Dishoom, were abundant at the beginning of the 20th century, and welcomed people from all walks of life across the vast city – rich businessmen would sip chai next to sweaty taxi-wallahs, courting couples, and writers finding their character.

From almost four hundred at their peak in the 1960’s, sadly there are now fewer than thirty remaining, as commercialism and expansion dominated the city of Bombay. Dishoom draws on the heritage of these cafés, with their all-day menu paying homage to the food of Bombay and they are keen to capture some part of this disappearing tradition, and share it with us hungry Londoners. Dishoom's Chowpatty Beach bar sprung up on the South Bank from May to October 2011, closely followed by a second café in Shoreditch in October 2011.

रंगमंच सजावट

So, back to the other bustling city of London. On entering Dishoom, pow, your senses are immediately awakened, in an exhilarating way instead of a great big in-your-face kind of way. The decor is striking with rich panelled floors, fans whirling slowly to cool the sizzling air and sepia photos of ancestors and Bombay starlets in wooden frames adorning pistachio brick walls. This creates a sensational visual display and each tells a fascinating story of its own. The restaurant is classy and stylish, and although the queue and hard-to-get-a-table offers a sense of exclusivity, Dishoom manages to do what other modern restaurants can often fail - make you feel welcome and part of a big gang of mates rather than grateful to be there, and the faded elegance welcomes all. Your mates for the night are a mixture of hot young things, distinguished ladies and gentleman, chattering friends, and chic couples and Marcus Wareing was dining on the night, which was a very good sign. Yet, there's no snobbery here. Dishoom could afford to be a bit sniffy if it jolly well felt like it but instead it doesn't take itself too seriously or compromise on its values, instead treating you like a long-lost friend come round for tea.

The toilets are a sight to behold. Yes, I did say the toilets. Although I cannot speak confidently about the gents (that would be weird), the ladies' loo has huge pictures of the champion Parsi body builders from the 1960s and vintage Indian toiletries in medicine cabinets provide a point of interest, and charm, while you, ahem, go on with your business.

पेय

I had vowed to stay firmly on the wagon the night I visited, but the Dishoom cocktail menu laughed heartily in the face of my abstinence. They could see right through me; they knew my game and that I am partial to a tipple or two. Before I had the chance to feebly make my excuses, I found myself with a flute of the delicious BollyBellini in my hand, and disappointed I was not. With sweet raspberries and lychees, fragrant rose and cardamom topped off with sparkling first-class Prosecco it was a bellini to be reckoned with. The menu describes it as a very pretty missy and pretty it was, although I fear after one too many of these easily drinkable delights this here blogger would not be a pretty missy, rather a shouty and dancing mess.

अन्न

Enough of the decor and the loo's and my unnecessary tales of tipsiness. It is, of course, the food you are clamouring to know about and my goodness, it does not disappoint. At Dishoom the menu is easy, welcoming and not too try-hard, with distinct strong flavours, tasty marinades and food that gives the impression it is created using good, quality produce. The all-day café menu takes inspiration from the food of Bombay. Our waiter, the very amiable Keith, encouraged us to order a number of small dishes and share the feast among ourselves and we took his very sound advice. We started with some Far Far, described on the menu as a carnival of snackery, which were like a salty, lemony, crisp-popadum hybrid that conjured up memories from our childhood.

Being a vegetarian, for once, is advantageous in Dishoom as it caters so well but it does not discriminate against carnivores. Fellow meaty diners tucked in to a number of Grills on offer, including Spicy Lamb Chops marinated in lime juice, ginger, warm dark spices and jaggery - a traditional uncentrifuged sugar consumed in Asia and Africa. The Bhel was heartily recommended - puffed rice, the infamous Bombay Mix and savoury nylon sev, all tossed beautifully with fresh pomegranate, tomato, onion and lime, tamarind and mint that worked together so harmoniously.

The Ruby Murray's were tasty and satisfying - including a silky Chicken Ruby and as someone who never really felt like cheese with my ruby, I am now a Paneer devotee, thanks to Dishoom's Paneer Tikka, marinated and then gently charred with red and green capsicums.  I'll let you discover the rest of the main menu for yourself, but DO NOT leave Dishoom without gobbling greedily the Gunpowder Potatoes - spuds in brown skins, smoky-grilled and tumbled seductively with butter, green herbs and crushed aromatic seeds. You'll finish them, look around sheepishly and think to yourself, will I look like a gluttonous pig if I suggest ordering one more portion? before going ahead and ordering unabashedly anyway.

Leave room for dessert but if your belly is bursting, attempt to share with friends. We shared the Kala Khatta Gola Ice, and before tucking in were warned that the first spoonful tastes bizarre, the second is captivating, and we unanimously agreed. Fluffy flakes of ice soaked gloriously in kokum fruit syrup, blueberries, chilli, lime and white and black salt - this was more than a palate cleanser, it was a powerful taste explosion in your mouth with a huge kick. It had mojo.

सोटा

Staff are attentive, knowledgable and so affable by the end of the night high on spice and life and one too many BollyBellini's you find yourself wanting to stay in touch, have a beer, swap email addresses etc but thank goodness you stop embarrassing yourself. Our waiter Keith was a gem - he knew the menu inside out, stopped us over ordering unnecessarily and was there with spare napkins and cutlery before we even realised we were without.

My initial dealings with Dishoom were by email, as an enquiring and humble blogger, with the fantastic Tom, Dishoom's Marketing-wallah and Dipak, Reservations-wallah, both absolutely top blokes. They shared with me proudly that Dishoom freely admit to having a sentimental side (too much Bollywood), and they love to see a birthday party celebrated well - that is, starting with something spicy, and ending with singing and dancing. How could anyone resist that?

So, to summarise Dishoom in my opinion it is slicker than your average. It is wallet and taste-bud friendly and serves fresh, modern indian food in a stylish, buzzing and beautiful place. The decor is gorgeously kitsch and ornate and the beautiful magentas, teals and vintage artwork is right up my street. The service is impeccable - from the initial chai in the queue, from entrance to bar to table and everything in between, and combined with the food this gives everything an impeccable, flawless finish. We were treated like VIPs, but with just the right amount of fuss.

Delectable Dishoom, you are vibrant, you have swagger. I cannot wait to see you and your mojo again soon, if you will have me.

DISHOOM

Dishoom Shoreditch – 7 Boundary Street, London E2 7JE

Dishoom Covent Garden – 12 Upper St. Martin’s Lane, London WC2H 9FB

www.dishoom.com

Become a Facebook Dishoom-wallah for news, events, gifts and suchlike: www.facebook.com/dishoomlondon

Follow us on Twitter – we're quite random: www.twitter.com/dishoom

 

 

I'm Going Bananas

Life, eh? What a little b*gger it can be sometimes.

As someone easily embarrassed and prone to calamity, I have experienced my fair share of humiliating minor gaffes. A recent little treat was this:

With tiredness reaching new and interesting levels, I arrived at my office one morning laden with bags, like a donkey, and thus unable to easily locate my security access pass. A kind man came to my rescue and once safely inside the building, I fumbled around in my Mary Poppins bag (one day I will pull out a hat stand) until I finally realised it was tucked safely into my jacket pocket. Feeling triumphant, I decided to take the lift instead of the stairs, taking a crazy diversion to my morning routine.

Said lift was jam-packed with bleary-eyed workers and as I was the last one in, lift-etiquette dictated that I was the one to kick off our upward journey using my pass to activate the sensor. I attempted this by bending my knees, awkwardly, and swiping my coat pocket across the sensor in the hope it would send us on our merry way. It didn't. I tried again. Nothing. In effect, I pelvic-thrusted the lift sensor, twice, in front of a group of strangers. Someone coughed nervously. Determined not to be beaten, I gave it one more thrust and finally we were on our way up, the uncomfortable silence now deafening.

As we ascended, I concentrated on looking serious, professional, meaning business in a kind of Melanie Griffiths-Working Girl manner. I glanced around the lift in exaggerated impatience at someone's very loud and irritating music, completely unaware that the tinny noise was in fact coming from my own iPhone headphones. It was I'm Going Bananas by Madonna, as featured on the Dick Tracy soundtrack. Which wasn't in the slightest bit embarrassing.

For those unfamiliar with this song, in my opinion, it's a fine piece of music. With a nod to Broadway and a slice of Spanish pop, inspired by the 1940s, it is chirpy, cheepy and makes me think of past car journeys with my parents and two sisters when we were kids and utterly obsessed with the Dick Tracy soundtrack. (Flashback: my Dad finally succumbing to the torture of having to listen to it on repeat 27 times and ejecting the cassette in desperate rage).

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C-JgNduaHgA&w=560&h=315]

The thing is, it's the kind of song you don't actually want anyone else to know you like. Or have purposely, actively downloaded. Especially as it was recorded in 1990. I only had to travel a single floor to reach my office, but I may as well have climbed the full length of The Shard. I couldn't bear anymore fumbling around to try to de-activate iTunes from my phone (hidden somewhere in the depths of bag), so instead Madonna went bananas and so did everyone else. After what seemed like an hour, we finally reached my floor where I ran to the safe cocoon of my office. Mortified.

It was here where I began to think about embarrassing songs we all secretly store on our playlists. Deeply personal, usually connected to an event or time in our life and accompanied by a heap of memories. We love them but know full well they should never should be given public exposure, certainly not in the workplace. My guilty pleasures include As Long as He Needs Me from the Oliver! Soundtrack - often wandering around London's charming back streets or Theatreland when I'm feeling particularly dramatic, I fancy myself as Nancy belting out the 'ell I've got my pride, AS LONG AS HE NEEDS ME! in all her cockney finery for nasty Bill Sikes - and Alone by Heart that amazing soft-rock classic from the 1980s where the lead singer never really cared until she met you. Utter brilliance.

Fortunately, some dignity has been restored by talking to my friends who confirm they too have some absolute corkers on their pods / pads / devices which they have cared to share with me.

Enjoy.

1. Hanson - MMMBop

It is 1997 again whenever I hear this song.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NHozn0YXAeE&w=420&h=315]

2. Backstreet Boys - Quit Playing Games (With my Heart)

Backstreet's back, alright.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ug88HO2mg44&w=420&h=315]

3. Wham! - Wham Rap! (Enjoy What you Do?)

This song defies brilliance. The inclusion of Pepsi and Shirley is almost too much to handle.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BsyHQgiem8c&w=420&h=315]

4. The Theme Tune to White Horses by JACKY with Jackie's Lee's

The friend who confessed to this also admitted alcohol may have been involved.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jtCNbERKvMs&w=560&h=315]

5. Karyn White - Superwoman

Empowerment in one song.  I've got my pride, I will not cry.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AM6n644spw0&w=560&h=315]

6. S Club 7 - Reach

Perky.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8lfHO8QQYJw&w=420&h=315]

7. Girls Aloud - Call the Shots

A fine, fine song. ooh ooh.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RnYHdO1vKbY&w=420&h=315]

8. Spice Girls - Say You'll Be There

Never ever ever will I get bored of this. Yeaaaaah I want you.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ro0FW9Qt-4&w=560&h=315]

9. Meat Loaf - Paradise by the Dashboard Light

Makes me want to be a teenager in 1950s America. Perhaps with a different driver.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SmPMMitJDYg&w=420&h=315]

10. Alexander Rybak - Fairytale (Eurovision 2009)

Alexander is in love with a Fairytale. Even though it hurts.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WXwgZL4zx9o&w=560&h=315]

11. Celine Dion - Because You Loved Me

Robert Redford, Michelle Pfeiffer. Newsreaders. Love.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K3Voc8NPm9A&w=420&h=315]

12. Slade - Far Far Away

Lovely story to this one; it reminds the person of the birth of their first son and made him realise for the first time how much he missed his wife. Lovely.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c_CpItvH7t0&w=420&h=315]

13. David Soul - Silver Lady

He won't run out on you again. Believe him.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yJ1t6r2NFTk&w=420&h=315]

14. Dolly Parton - Jolene

No iPod is complete with Dolly. Essential listening.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1plvBR02wDs&w=420&h=315]

15. Salt n Pepa - Push it

There are no words to describe how much I wanted to be Spinderella when I was a child. None.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vCadcBR95oU&w=560&h=315]

16. Tony Christie feat. All Seeing I - Walk Like a Panther

I have never heard this song before. I find it a bit disturbing but thinking about the person makes me smile.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AtqJpsnsm5g&w=420&h=315]

An excellent selection, and definitely worthy of lift-exposure.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pHthhhPxHfo&w=420&h=315]

Drawing the Stars - Andreya Triana

Last week on a brisk evening in London, I had the honour of reviewing the superbly talented Andreya Triana in residence at XOYO, Shoreditch for Jazz FM.

Triana is a singer-songwriter hailing from Brixton and began singing at an early age, influenced by the diverse sights and sounds around her. In 2007, she featured on the hugely popular Reset EP produced by hip hop pioneer Flying Lotus, with Tea Leaf Dancers showcasing her hypnotic voice to perfection. She has since collaborated with the likes of Mr Scruff on tracks including the infectious Here We Go and Bonobo (British producer, musician and DJ Simon Green) on the Black Sands album.

Her acclaimed debut album Lost Where I Belong, released in 2010, was produced by Bonobo and features the two working with live musicians and samples to create a classic yet contemporary sound. Fellow Ninja Tune singer and songwriter Fink (British singer, songwriter and producer Fin Greenall) co-wrote two tracks for the album - Lost Where I Belong and Far Closer. It is a charmingly raw and honest piece of music fusing a number of influences including soul and jazz and should feature on any self-respecting music fan's playlist.

I discovered Triana at the monumental Jazz FM Love Supreme festival in July and have been listening on repeat ever since. So it was in the smoky, intimate space at XOYO that I had the chance to hear her live again. There was anticipated chatter in the air as the cool but amiable crowd nodded along to Mirror Signal, Triana's accomplished support act, who made waiting for the main lady very painless indeed.

At 9.15 pm sharp the lights suddenly lowered and in a flash she appeared, eyes closed, that unmistakably sultry voice singing her upcoming single Best is Yet to Come, so clearly, so melodically that the crowd were momentarily stunned into respectful silence. 'London!' she addressed the crowd boldly with her husky London accent and breaking the stillness, 'You gorgeous people!' and the gorgeous people laughed and held on to her every note.

On stage, Triana is charming and ebullient. Despite possessing a talent that surpasses anything else in the room, she makes you feel as though she is your best mate, someone you could genuinely hang out with and have a glass of wine or three. Two songs in, she declared with a cheeky grin that it was 'the time of the show where the shoes come off! I thought I'd last longer but I didn't...' and I admired her candour and self-deprecation, as I wiggled my toes in uncomfortably high boots.

Triana has a unique style and strong creative identity and she illuminated the stage in a colourful marble print trouser suit from Topshop and print shirt from ASOS, paired with a huge orange ring. Her website finely exhibits that inimitable style – prints, beautifully opulent oversized necklaces, striking colours – as well as musical influences. Style and personality aside though, it is the music that enthrals. As resonant guitar chords opened the largely acoustic Changing Shapes of Love you could hear raw emotion and the intensity of her voice live is compelling. She dedicated Everything You Never Had to her Mum and affirmed her extensive vocal range, including a captivating subtlety that transforms her songs into something profoundly personal.

The set list seamlessly intertwined the old with the new including Not Today with a thumping drum beat and Lost Where I Belong, a personal favourite of mine, and clearly the crowd’s too given the excited reaction it received. This is a stunning track, with an instantly recognisable and infectious chorus and the audience joined in eagerly, substitute backing singers to her lead vocal. Even a colossal great crunch of ice from the bar couldn't spoil the moment; the unwanted disruption was handled with the typical charm and poise that Triana exudes at her live shows.

She performs with a loop pedal on stage to enhance and densely layer her vocals, used to amplifying effect on her cover of Sweet Dreams, and with strong vocal hooks, catchy guitar riffs, and reggae-influenced baselines her performance was a celebration of brilliant music.

Far too quickly, it was time for her to leave the stage but no, we did not want it to end thank you very much. We demanded an encore,  stomped our feet and clapped our hands in thunderous protest. Fortunately, she was teasing us as the best was yet to come. On her Lost Where I Belong album opener Draw the Stars, Triana was at her melodic best, with accompanying acoustic guitar and twinkling xylophone. Her cover of Alicia Keys' Not Even the King mesmerised the audience into gratified silence. 'It kills me' she said about the song and its emotive lyrics as couples smooched and potential couples sidestepped a bit closer, exchanging covert smiles. As she ended triumphantly with Far Closer, this was a job well and truly done. I got to meet the great lady at the end of the show and she was as beguiling, engaging and lovely in person as she is on stage.

Triana is currently preparing new material for her second album (and potentially a preceding EP), much of which she has been previewing at her recent shows. Leaving XOYO and stepping out into the cool night air, I felt just like I did after seeing her perform at Love Supreme - excited to discover more of her material and keen to shout out about this talented, home-grown rising star.

So, now I'm shouting loudly. Go listen.

https://soundcloud.com/andreyatriana

http://andreyatriana.tumblr.com

http://www.jazzfm.com/

Vote here for Love Supreme Festival at the UK Festival Awards 2013