#Pitchy Patchy

[schweizercomics]

Companions of Christmas 13: Pitchy Patchy

Once a highly decorated Akan military commander, the man who would become known as Pitchy Patchy was stolen from his home and enslaved in Jamaica, but he was able to escape to freedom and, operating from the Maroon towns that he helped to defend, would regularly lead raids against the plantations to free others.

Since the folks that he rescued didn’t have access to the kinds of ornate trophies and medals that he’d worn in the past, they would honor him with a simple strip of colored cloth as a sign of their gratitude for his valor. He saved so many people that he was eventually festooned with these cloth strips, to the point that they covered his entire body.

At Christmastime, he would parade boldly through the streets during the festival of Jonkonnu (or Jankunu, or Junkanoo, etc), and he continues to be a part of Jonkonnu parades to this very day.

[maskmonday]

Environmental Disaster by B Via Flickr: These figures appear to have struggled along their journey. Despite their formal clothing, the tidemarks on their trousers seem to suggest they waded through water or a flood. Many countries, including Guyana, are at risk of significant flooding due to global warming. Guyana’s agricultural coastal strip covers 10% of the land, houses 90% of the population, and is on average one meter below sea level. The Dutch reclaimed this land during the early colonial period, using slave labour to build a nation-spanning seawall, back-dam and canal system. The carried flag includes images of the land and architecture under threat – landscapes that Locke fears are being washed away in a literal flood of his childhood memories. ...The influence of both Indian and Indo-Caribbean culture can be seen in The Procession, as in much of Locke’s work to date. It is unclear whether the procession participants are wearing masks or if these are their true faces. Several figures and costumes within The Procession reference specific Caribbean Carnival characters from across the region. These include Mother Sally in her voluminous dress, Midnight Robber, wearing a huge, brimmed hat, Pitchy Patchy, dressed in a suit made of tattered, colourful pieces of cloth, and Sailor Mas, inspired by British, French and American naval staff. Each has its histories, and its portrayal differs across the Caribbean. [Tate Britain] Taken in the 2022 Tate Britain Commission: Hew Locke: The Procession (March 2022 – January 2023) A procession is part and parcel of the cycle of life; people gather and move together to celebrate, worship, protest, mourn, escape or even to better themselves. This is the heart of Hew Locke’s ambitious new project, The Procession. The Procession invites visitors to ‘reflect on the cycles of history, and the ebb and flow of cultures, people and finance and power.’ Tate Britain’s founder was art lover and sugar refining magnate Henry Tate. In the installation Locke says he ‘makes links with the historical after-effects of the sugar business, almost drawing out of the walls of the building,’ also revisiting his artistic journey so far, including for example work with statues, share certificates, cardboard, rising sea levels, Carnival and the military. Throughout, visitors will see figures who travel through space and time. Here, they carry historical and cultural baggage, from evidence of global financial and violent colonial control embellished on their clothes and banners, alongside powerful images of some of the disappearing colonial architecture of Locke’s childhood in Guyana. The installation takes inspiration from real events and histories but overall, the figures invite us to walk alongside them, into an enlarged vision of an imagined future. What I try to do in my work is mix ideas of attraction and ideas of discomfort – colourful and attractive, but strangely, scarily surreal at the same time. Hew Locke [Tate Britain]

[bits-and-babs]

𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 — 𝐃𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐉𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍

» PAIRING : Din Djarin x Reader

» CONTENTS : Smuttt. Needy Din- maskless Din is a sub, fight with the wall. Body worship (face… worship?). P in V sex- emphasis more on the P on V sex). Not proof read.

» SUMMARY: Traditions form after Din removes the mask.

» DIN MASTERLIST : here || MAIN MASTERLIST : here

It’s freezing cold to the touch, the sharp edges of his helmet practically slicing your fingers open as you tentatively lift the beskar from his face. You feel his aquiline nose catch on the foam padding on the inside. You utter a sorry.

Din’s palms splay over your hips where you straddle him in the minute cot, leather biting lightly against your bare skin where he digs his fingers in. His eyelashes flutter as the edge of his helmet is pulled up, and he’s exposed to the harsh, untempered lights inside the Razor Crest. Din turns his face to the side, unable to look you in the eye. Even now, after all this time, he’s still momentarily apprehensive about displaying his face to you.

“Hold still for me,” you whisper, so quiet that you’re sure that your own heartbeat muffles your order, drowning your words out with its pulse. It’s thrumming wildly against your sternum, still thrilled by the sight of Din’s eyes on you.

Mercenary, Bounty Hunter, Mandalorian- Mandalore. All of Din’s titles melt away like beskar in an armourer’s kiln when you’re alone. The alloy drips and runs and cools, melding the warrior a far simpler and benign title- yours.

Din’s breath stalls in his lungs as you begin your ritual, his eyes cast to the durasteel hangar ceiling as he feels you press your lips to his with a gentle urgency. One kiss, then another, and another. You barely give him a moment to register your affections, his own lips lagging behind in their response.

“Mhmm~” You hum, but it bleeds into a whine as you settle your bare cunt over the length of Din’s cock. His groan dies behind gritted teeth as you sweep your hips over the length of him, soaking the velvety skin with your slick.

His chestplate is freezing against your breasts as you lean over him, having given him no time to undress when you threw him back against the cot and took what you wanted. Your nipples are hard against the cold Beskar-steel, dragging back and forth slightly as your hips rock against the curve of his dick. It makes you ache for him even more.

Focusing a slow, steady rhythm with your hips, you allow your lips to wander. They trace his jawline, sharp as the spear he carries with him. Din tilts his head back for you, gasping out your name as you bite the skin stretched across the bone. You nip playfully, focusing your attention on the patchy parts of his jaw, where the hair is sparse.

“C-Cyar'ika,” Din groans, his voice pitchy over the wet sounds of his cock sweeping through your folds. The head bumps your clit, and you whine against the curve of his jaw, your chin pressed to his pulse point.

Din Djarin is the prettiest man you’d ever met. His expressions, however, were even more enticing. Hidden behind a mask for his entire adult life, Din never learnt to neutralise his face. It made him emotive, especially in bed.

As you kiss the tip of his nose, you watch as his eyebrows pinch together, then arch up slightly as you let the weeping tip of his cock nudge at your entrance. You settle on it lightly, let the head sink inside before pulling up again quickly, barely allowing him a moment to relish the tight heat. He lets out a groan of frustration, desperation, as you drag your lips over the arch of his aquiline nose.

God, you love his nose. You praise it, its beauty, worship the way it makes you feel when you grind down on it. Humming softly, you can’t help but grin into the kisses you offer as his jaw falls slack, moaning out your name.

“Stars,” he groans out louder, with a sudden urgency that startles you, “Please, I need- I need to feel you.”

Din’s voice without the modulator is impassioned, cracking slightly on a whine as he begs you for mercy. For relief. A vulnerable tone he barely affords you unless you take control. The leather of his gloves digs into the meat of your ass, palms shifting your hips forward to pull your weeping pussy across his length.

Refusing to give into his demands, you continue your affections. You press soft kisses above his eyebrows, then each of his closed eyelids. His eyes- they took your breath away, stealing your attention when he first removed his helmet for you. You’d heard the tales of ‘brown eyes’, but they did little to emphasise their beauty. Deep, rich, laced with Din’s heavily guarded emotions that he’d veiled with beskar.

“You’re impatient,” you finally point out in a breathy whisper, lungs working a little harder as you feel something delicious settle at the base of your spine. Din looks like he could cry, desperation kicking in as he jerks his hips up against yours.

“I am deprived,” he murmurs back, an edge to his tone. The Child had clung to him for days following his last bounty job- he hadn’t had time alone with you for at least a week despite doing everything he could- stolen kisses in the cockpit, even attempting to shut Grogu in his bassinet. Somehow, he always managed to stumble into the room at the most inopportune time, much to his father’s utter dismay.

Sitting up, one of your palms settles on Din’s breastplate, you push strands of his unkempt curls from his damp forehead. Din, as renowned and feared a bounty hunter he is, also keens for you, vulnerable and achy for your affections. He chases your hand, leaning his face into your touch as you care for him.

Rewarding his openness, you reach between your thighs to take his cock in your palm. Din lets out a slight hiss, sucking between his teeth as you work his cock slowly. The drag of your palm against his sensitive flesh has him bucking his hips again, pressing the crown of his head back into the pillow.

“Din,” you whisper his name, watching him squeeze his eyes shut and centre his focus on the swirling arousal that builds quickly.

“Please.”

Pressing a gentle kiss to Din’s lips, swollen from your previous affections, you sink down onto his aching cock.

“Fuuuuck, Cyar'ik-aah-“

@hoeneey @howaboutcastiel @welcometostayingawake @syrma-sensei @ethanhoewke @polaroidpetal @foxilayde @bookfrog242 @wh0reforbucknasty @zakizigekwe @ahookedheroespureheart @buckys-other-punk @anxious-sappho @alexloveskili @captainrexstan @knights-power @southcrnbelle @niallsbunny @hold-our-destiny @vermillionwinter @stormkobra-5 @erenbissexual @alwritey-aphrodite @maggotzombie @deadpige0n @bakerstreethound @whatthehekko @cottagebunny9 @bit-dodgy-innit @peachyproserpina @pedrosprincess

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[katsukis-sad-angel]

Mirai Sasaki x Pregnant!Reader

AN: Why did I write this?

Because I can

Also, because I love Sir Nighteye with all my heart and we only got to hear his voice for less than 10 episodes before he kicked the bucket.

*cries*

Contains: The death of Sir Nighteye (cries more aggressively), mega angst, lots of sadness, graphics? idk… i mean the guy was stabbed in the stomach with a giant spike… 

Summary: Do I really need one? Sir Nighteye (aka Mirai Sasaki) dies.

Being 6 months pregnant was no easy feat, especially with an extremely worrisome and overprotective husband.

He called you at least twice a day while you sat around at home to make sure you were ok, eating, and didn’t need anything. If you forgot to close/lock a door or window he would reprimand you for being careless. And when he was home, at least one of his hands was somewhere on your body.

He was very sweet and brought you flowers and chocolate for no reason, took you out to extravagant and expensive places to eat, and (though society might never believe it), he loved to cuddle.

It was very late, around 11 o’clock and you couldn’t sleep because the baby kept kicking you in the gut.

Mirai had his arms around you and his head on your shoulder.

He was awake too.

Suddenly his phone buzzed.

Pulling one hand away from your swollen stomach, he reached over and grabbed the glowing piece of metal.

He read the message, sighed, and got out of bed.

“Mirai… come back!” You begged, rolling over.

“I have to go, I’m sorry.” He replied, cupping your cheek and kissing your forehead.

“Where?” You asked, clutching his hand.

“We’re going into the Shie Hissaikai base tomorrow. I was asked to help prepare. We might have new intel too. C’mon. Let go of me.”

He pulled his hand away.

“I don’t exactly want to leave, especially when the baby is acting up, but we’ve been working on this case for quite a while. I’ll see you soon Y/n. Goodnight.”

He straightened his tie in the mirror and left the room.

Something didn’t feel right.

You wanted to call out to him, tell him he shouldn’t go, tell him you didn’t feel good to push him into overprotective-almost-dad mode and stay by your side.

But you didn’t.

Oh, how you regretted it.

You woke up the next day at about 8:30.

There was a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach as you stood up, stretched, and ate breakfast.

After eating, you sat on the couch.

The TV remote was on the table in front of you.

Too far away.

Not worth it.

You looked outside at the city below, feeling like a caged animal.

There was nothing to do.

Was your husband ok?

Who was he with?

Had they saved that little girl yet?

Was anyone injured?

Those thoughts continued to plague your mind until, several painfully long hours later, you received a phone call.

You eagerly picked it up, thinking it was a call from your doting husband, but you were wrong.

It was Shota Aizawa, a pro hero who had been working with Sir Nighteye on the Shie Hissaikai case.

You answered the phone with a shaky, “H-Hello?”

“Is this Y/n Sasaki?”

“Yes, it is. Is something wrong?” You knitted your eyebrows together, hoping, no, praying Nighteye, Mirio, Bubble Girl, and everyone else was fine.

“Unfortunately, yes. Your husband sustained critical damage during the fight and his chances of survival are extremely low.” He paused, “A car is coming to pick you up. He wants to say goodbye.”

You fell into a chair.

“I’ll… I’ll be waiting.” You whispered and hung up.

You shakily set our phone aside.

Critical damage? What does that mean? Where? Goodbye? Wait, NO! He can’t die! H-Hold on… no, he’ll be ok, right? He’s a fighter! Plus I bet Aizawa was making it sound worse than it really is. It’ll be fine. Everything’s fine.

You took a deep breath and went to your room, changed, made yourself look at least a little presentable, grabbed a coat and purse and took the elevator down to the lobby.

There you stayed until a car pulled up.

Bubble Girl poked he head out and beckoned you outside.

She seemed really upset too.

He held her arms out to give you a hug, but she was visibly shaking.

She helped you into the car and you, Bubble girl, Centipeder, All Might and Recovery Girl went to the university hospital where everyone was.

You arrived at the doors about ten minutes later and soon the group was on the way up the elevator.

The doors opened to a slouching dark-haired man standing next to a green-haired boy in a beat-up, green hero costume.

“Recovery Girl! All Might…!” The boy exclaimed, “Why’re you-”

“I called him here. Because…” Bubble Girl’s eyes filled with tears, “Sir, he… to him, All Might was always…”

She wiped away her tears and held back her sobs.

Centipeder put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly and offered her a tissue.

Then, you made your way to Nighteye’s hospital room.

All you could do was stare in shock at your husband’s body.

Tubes of every size, shape, and color protruded from his middle like a horrible mutant plant or something. Each of those was connected to a machine.

He was missing an arm.

You didn’t realize it at first, but you had become a human waterfall; tears poured from your eyes and showed no sign of stopping.

“There was nothing we could really do… Honestly, it’s a miracle he’s even breathing at all.” A blonde, masked doctor said sadly.

“My healing won’t be able to help at this point either…” Recovery Girl said regretfully, staring at her feet. “Sadly… He won’t make it… to see tomorrow…”

The pitchy beeps from the heart rate machine droned in your ears.

Nighteye’s patchy breaths made your heart clench.

He couldn’t be saved.

“Nighteye!” Gasped All Might.

His yellow eyes opened slightly.

“All… M-Might…” He rasped, “You didn’t feel like coming to see me… until I was dying…?”

“I don’t know what to say… how I… wronged you…”

“Nighteye! You gotta live! Hang in there!” The greed-haired boy begged, his own eyes brimming up.

“No need… to be so uptight… I… I never… held anything against you… I just… always… wished for your happiness… that’s all… If you’ve… decided to fight against fate… that’s fine… in my book…”

“You need to fight too! Give me a chance to atone for what I’ve done!”

“Atone? I’m the one… who’s caused trouble… for so many… All this time… I wanted… to keep you from getting killed… I searched for a way to change things… all this time… But nothing came of it… There was nothing… I could do… to change the future. But… Midoriya showed me something today… I… could never… clear my head of those thoughts… “Can’t change it.” “Nothing will change.” That negativity… was always in the back of my mind. But within thoughts… is a sort of energy… I believe that now. Energy from striving for a certain future… when one doesn’t allow for doubt… A vision that strong… energy… from wishing. It wasn’t just Midoriya… everyone… came together… and believed so strongly in that future. What we saw happen today… was… perhaps… the result of all that energy centered on Midoriya… The future is uncertain… you’ve changed my thinking… and that’s enough… for me. My… one regret… is…”

He raised his hand and moved his yellow eyes to your shaking form.

“I will never… get to see… my… child. I can’t… protect… you anymore Y/n… I’m sorry.”

Then came a shout; “WAIT! MR. TOGATA!”

The door swung open and hit the wall with a loud BANG.

A tall blonde boy burst into the room.

“SIR NIGHTEYE!”

“You mustn’t be about!” Strained the nurse, tugging on Mirio’s shirt.

“Mirio…”

Nighteye turned his gaze from you to his illegitimate son student as he frantically rushed to the side of the bed.

“No! You gotta live! Don’t you die on me!” Mirio cried, clutching the bars surrounding the bed.

Tears dripped from his big blue eyes onto his shirt, making the thin fabric nearly see-through.

“Mirio…” Nighteye repeated, “I’ve put you… through so much hardship… If only I’d… been there for you…”

“I only got stronger cuz of everything you taught me! It’s thanks to you I’ve got the life I do!” He sobbed, wiping his eyes. “You gotta keep teaching me! You can’t die now!!!”

Slowly, painfully, Sir Nighteye raised his hand again to clasp Mirio’s pale, tearstained cheek, and say, “You’ll be ok… You’ll make… a fine hero. That… is one part of the future… that mustn't… be changed… So… keep smiling!”

He smiled up at the three men by his bedside, “A world without smiles and humor… has no bright future…”

The heart monitors’ beeping lessened, and his thin, pale face turned to you.

Your knees were about to give out, you were a total mess of mascara and tears, and the hands that gripped his bed rails were visibly trembling.

You bit your lip and locked eyes with you.

“Y/n. I… I don’t th-think… I ever told… you… how beautiful… you are. Chin up… I love you…”

The beeping slowed to a complete stop.

His golden eyes slid shut as he took his final breath, a look of peace softened his features, and you fell to your knees overcome with immeasurable grief.

Credits to http://w14.readheroacademia.com for Nighteye’s last-words dialogue!

[rastafarimarket]

noël en Jamaïque

C'est la période de Noël et tout le monde est impatient de faire la fêter ! Mais comment les Jamaïcains fêtent-ils Noël ? Vous vous demandez peut-être. Existe-t-il des traditions de Noël particulières à la Jamaïque ? Vous auriez raison de dire que les Jamaïcains ont leurs propres traditions. Et non, je ne parle pas de chanter des chansons de Bob Marley en guise de chants de Noël.😅 En tant que pays fortement influencé par son passé colonial, bon nombre des traditions jamaïcaines sont enracinées dans cette riche diversité culturelle. Bien que certaines traditions de Noël puissent ressembler à ce que l'on peut voir dans d'autres pays, la Jamaïque ajoute définitivement sa propre saveur au mélange. Quelles sont donc les traditions de Noël en Jamaïque ?

LES TRADITIONS DE NOËL JAMAÏCAINES QUE VOUS DEVEZ CONNAÎTRE

NETTOYAGE DE NOËL

Les Jamaïcains ADORENT se montrer sous leur meilleur jour , Noël est le meilleur moment pour se montrer sous son meilleur jour ! Les maisons sont repeintes et nettoyée de fond en comble et les meilleures décorations (qui ne sont réservées qu'aux occasions spéciales) sont sorties des placards. Quand j'étais enfant, j'ai grandi en Jamaïque, c'était toujours une lame à deux faces. D'une part, j'étais toujours excité de savoir que Noël arrivait, mais d'autre part, cela signifiait aider ma famille à nettoyer la maison (je veux dire, quel enfant aime nettoyer ?). Même les rues reçoivent un coup de jeune, car le gouvernement lave à blanc les bordures des rues et élague les arbres.

JONKANOO

La tradition du Jonkanoo trouve son origine dans le riche héritage africain de la Jamaïque. "Qu'est-ce que c'est ?" demanderez-vous peut-être. Le Jonkanoo est une parade de rue qui met en scène des personnages vêtus de costumes exagérément sales et effrayants. Pendant qu'ils défilent dans les rues, les enfants (et même certains adultes) courent pour se mettre à l'abri de ces personnages souvent antagonistes. Les principaux personnages coupables sont très certainement la Femme Ventrue, la Tête de Cheval, le Diable et Pitchy Patchy.

GRAND MARCHÉ

Comme son nom l'indique, il s'agit d'un GRAND événement pour les Jamaïcains. La veille de Noël, les vendeurs s'installent sur la place principale de la ville et exposent leurs meilleurs produits, vêtements, nourriture et friandises de Noël, qui sont tous à vendre. Les Jamaïcains sortent en masse pour participer à cet étalage généreux, s'adonner aux festivités et profiter de l'ambiance de Noël. Ai-je mentionné que les Jamaïcains sont aussi l'un des groupes de personnes les plus à la mode que vous puissiez rencontrer ? Tout le monde se met sur son trente-et-un (ou, comme le diraient les Jamaïcains, "s'habille pour faire la fête") dans ses plus beaux habits de Noël. C'est un spectacle à ne pas manquer. Bien que la tradition soit de moins en moins populaire, vous trouverez certainement encore ces événements en ville..

MESSE DE NOËL

Le jour de Noël, à minuit, les Jamaïcains se rendent à l'église pour leur messe annuelle de Noël. Si vous ne le saviez pas déjà, la Jamaïque compte le plus grand nombre d'églises par kilomètre carré au monde, ce qui témoigne de ses racines très chrétiennes. Il n'est donc pas surprenant que la plupart des Jamaïcains se rendent à l'église pour célébrer le jour de Noël dans un climat de louange et d'adoration.

DÎNER DE NOËL

Que serait Noël sans bonne nourriture et sans famille ? Il va sans dire qu'un jour de Noël jamaïcain est fortement axé sur un dîner de Noël (souvent organisé en début d'après-midi). Les Jamaïcains se réunissent autour d'une abondance de plats typiquement jamaïcains, tels que l'oseille, le gâteau aux fruits, le jambon et le riz au pois d'Angole, pour célébrer la naissance du Christ et l'unité de la famille.

toute l'équipe rastafarimarket.fr  vous souhaite de bonne fetes

[k00276996]

Pitchy Patchy/Perriot Grenade

Little is known about the origins of the Pitchy Patchy character, but his development has ben recoded throughout the years. His costume of multilayered strips of cloth probably derived from English mumming dress and African prototypes that were made from flora rather than cloth. This particular masker began with a performs with the Jonkonnu masked ensenble [cotton, metallic and synthetic fabric, wire screen mask with marks imitating rough features or impressions of them, straw and varying versions for the bottom half] In Jamaica, the Bahamas and a few other countries including Belize he performed on the English holiday of “Boxing Day”, the day after Christmas. On this day the poor received ‘boxes’ of food, clothing and other supplies from the wealthier compatriots. In the Plantation era - 17th century through early 19th century.

I had intended to make the sketch into a Lino print after Des had taken us through the process and materials during the relief print workshop but the carving tools were not available this last week as they were checked out before me, I still intend to print this eventually as I think outcome would be quite intriguing.

Lino and block printing requires a different thought process than painting not only in the obvious sense but in the concept as well. You must think in terms of space rather that imagery, it is a positive negative relationship that when accomplished produces a bold picture.

between the 4 characters and strips of fabric was to be inked and two of the 4 characters costumes were to be reversed (the lines of the patches were to be negative space or carved so that appeared white) while the rest of the image was to appear as shown.

[selfportraitsofcolor]

Dhiradj Ramsamoedj, b. Suriname, 1986 Flexible Guy / Flexibel mannetje  Suriname and Netherlands (2009-2012) [Source], [Source], [Source], [Source]

This website refers to it as a self-portrait! In these pictures it’s a statue, though it can also take the form of a suit. 

The Caribbean Review of Books says:

In the main room of the house stood a life-size human figure with aspects of mannequin, monster, and Muppet. Covered with tufts of brightly coloured cloth, wearing a pair of spectacles, the figure swayed gently if nudged, but was anchored by a pair of weighted boots. Lit from below, Flexible Man threw an ominous shadow over the wall and ceiling above. Was this sculpture or costume, threatening or playful?

 Ramsamoedj spoke of Flexible Man and its coat of many colours as an investigation of a hybrid Caribbean identity. For a viewer from the islands to the north, it called to mind the Pitchy-Patchy character from Jamaican Junkanoo, the Pierrot Grenade from Trinidad Carnival. Like most of the works in Adjie Gilas, it also alluded to family circumstances and memory. The strips of cloth were leftover fragments from Ramsamoedj’s mother’s workshop: she is a seamstress, and his deceased grandfather was a tailor.

[sexypinkon]

The Cow Head is among a plethora of possible characters such as Pitchy-Patchy, Devil, Warwick and Horse-Head that performed in Christmas Jonkunoo parades once familiar throughout Jamaica. The first known mention of the tradition locally in 1725 stated that they (the enslaved) very often tie cows’ tails to their rumps… and dressed up in grotesque habits and a pair of ox-horns on their head. These described a masquerade tradition still performed in the Sahel region West Africa. However, Jonkunoo is deeply connected with Myal possession, representing a particular rite of spirit and ancestral veneration.

[telnaga]

My cooing to pets is always either gibberish ("ooosa patchy pitchy pitchy patchy eswrsighsjfg") or just like. "Who's a kitty? YOU'RE A KITTY! YES YOU'RE A KITTY"

[itsrattysworld]

Without Prejudice ET/EAT, LEYF Are Safeguarding Risk To Adults With Disabilities Aided By MOPAC IOPC, JCIO,BSB, SRS, CCMCC, DBS To Pervert The Course Of Justice

Without Prejudice ET/EAT, LEYF Are Safeguarding Risk To Adults With Disabilities Aided By MOPAC IOPC, JCIO,BSB, SRS, CCMCC, DBS To Pervert The Course Of Justice

So www.leyf.org.uk the #paedophile RING #advises the UK government what more do they expect? We hope you enjoy looking back and sharing your memories on Facebook, from the most recent to those long ago.ON THIS DAY 7 years agoNaheel Julene Brown Legister is with Valdin Legister and 4 others .Pitchy patchy day at school! Man he’s got swag!ON THIS DAY  8 years agoMervelee Ratty Nembhard is with…

[dominicanslovehaitians]

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As part of our art practice and extending making black dolls we have created s sacred doll workshop to support people in creating your own spiritual vessel. Show Don’t Tell: A Symposium with The Fellowship for Utopian Practice Day I Sunday, April 28, 2019 1 to 5pm Workshops from 1:15 to 3:15pm Workshop I - Junkanoo Come: Help Pitchy Patchy build Wild Indian - Workshop II - Building Common Ground - Workshop III - Preguntas, intrigas, dudas/Questions, intrigues, doubts - Workshop IV - Forming The Sacred Doll - RSVP Culturepush.org/symposia In Common: Making Space for Collective Transformation 3:30 to 5pm Panel with workshop artists facilitated by Jerron Herman II 10 Years of Practicing Utopia: Panel Discussion with Olaronke Akinmowo, Chloë Bass, and Alicia Grullón, Moderated by Sarah Dahnke Monday, April 29, 2019 6 to 8pm #dominicanartists #artmatters #arteducation #panelart #dominicanhaitian #haitiandominican #sacreddoll #blackdollproject @culturepusher @rubinfoundation (at The 8th Floor) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bwm2QRSl76I/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=l88uajxq8wyd

[welldresseddadblog]

It’s no secret that I tend to be a fan of the small brands. The brands that start out with a wish to do something different, pulling inspiration from somewhere outside the mainstream, and maybe without a primary goal of becoming a global brand. Just for the sake of doing something cool. There are a number of brands like this around, and especially in the UK now there is a manufacturing industry with the capacity to cater for the smaller brands. Think SEH Kelly, HebTroCo, Jago, Paladrin etc. Today though, I’m talking about Bristol-based one-man-brand Work & War.

With a vision and creative drive. Work & War from Bristol ticks all the boxes, being a one-man company with a strong determination to recreate and update some of the most ruggedly functional garments from an era where functional army garments were first developed.Work & War is the brainchild of Joe Ruddock, by daytime an art director working in advertising, by evening an enthusiast and collector of rugged 30’s and 40’s style clothing, and moody master of the black and white seaside photos.

The first mini-collection from W&W consisted of a jacket, a shirt and a knitted hat. An odd selection, maybe, with the jacket as the obvious centrepiece and the shirt and knitted hat as interesting collaborations with other makers. While the latter two sold out almost immediately, let’s take a look at what Joe came up with in his first collection.

The jacket is based on a uniform jacket worn by German U-boat crew, which was again based on a British denim jacket captured at Dunkirk in 1940. A convoluted-sounding history, but to me, it brings to mind the classic WW2 battle blouse. The original was worn with very high rise trousers and is characterised by the huge pleated chest pockets and roomy arms. A really great look, but not all that common these days, so this jacket makes a welcome appearance. The body has been extended so it works with trousers of a more modern waist height. Joe is totally dedicated to dedicated to the details, so managed to find a deadstock 11oz Japanese Chambray fabric to use, and had special 3-holed aluminium buttons made up. And then had the jacket made in a factory in Britain.

With the crew jacket underway, Joe came across Kurtz Clothiers in Australia. Now Kurtz is a similarly tiny company. To be precise, it’s really just Pete. He specialised in making handmade vintage style garments, primarily shirts. For this collaboration, they wanted the pre-war European vintage look and settled on a 1930’s version. With a seldom seen spearpoint back collar, pleated pocket and tunic front. The fabric is an 8.5oz blue cotton duck and the buttons are deadstock British horn. The duck fabric is not a typical shirt fabric and does require wearing and washing to soften up. Then again, it’s made to last, so there is plenty of opportunity for that to happen.

The final collaboration was another meeting of minds, between Joe and the vintage-style knitter, Hen Johnson, known to fans as Miss Pitchy Patchy. The Skull Caps were a definite war-time feature, often worn under helmets to keep their head warm and the helmet more comfortable. Miss Patchy hand knitted them, one at a time, using period knitting patterns and 100% Aran wool. In person, they are knitted from nice, thick wool in a ruggedly solid pattern. As was the style of the time, they sit more on the head than down over the wearer’s ears, so it’s more of a look than something I’d use as winter wear (read about my issues with woolly hats here). It’s a splendid looking hat though, with very much more character than the usual finely woven beanie style. And of course, there is the badge to give it the final touch. The badge is inspired by a German U-Boat wolfpack badge, hand cut in metal and aged.

By the time you read this, I imagine the initial offerings will be long sold out (apparently not, there is a shirt and a few jackets left) and Joe will be working on new projects (he hints about them on his Instagram).

Find more about Joe and Work & War on his website here.

  Work & War - Rugged rags for brutal men - From England with love #workandwar #armystyle #rugged #ruggedstyle #bristol #madeinbritain #mensstyle #mensfashion #vintage #retro It's no secret that I tend to be a fan of the small brands. The brands that start out with a wish to do something different, pulling inspiration from somewhere outside the mainstream, and maybe without a primary goal of becoming a global brand.

[the-sweet-life-ja]

Jamaican Christmas ::  The John Canoe or Jonkonnu has a very long tradition as a folk festival, incorporating both African and European forms. The ‘Jonkonnu’ Festival is secular in nature and its performance at Christmas time is merely historical.  It was conceived as a festive opportunity afforded the slave class by the planter class, as Christmas was one of the few periods when the slaves were relieved of their duties. Hence, Christmas formed an appropriate season for festivities as all normal business activity on the island was halted by official decree and all males were called up for military service, augmenting the population in the larger towns.  Therefore, ample opportunity was given to the slaves to show off their talents to the spectators who had also been given time off from work.

Traditional Jonkonnu most often includes as core participants, the cow head, the horsehead, the devil, the different categories of warriors and Indians, as well as a character known as Pitchy-Patchy. The more popular characters are quite worthy of further mention as their presence in the festival evoked an admixture of fear and excitement in onlookers.

[itsrattysworld]

Without Prejudice Once June O'Sullivan Was Awarded Her MBE This Gave Her Power To Allow Her Mask Of Sanity To Slip And Started With Karen Walker To Rid LEYF Of Women In Leadership So She And Neil King Establish Paedophile Ring

Without Prejudice Once June O’Sullivan Was Awarded Her MBE This Gave Her Power To Allow Her Mask Of Sanity To Slip And Started With Karen Walker To Rid LEYF Of Women In Leadership So She And Neil King Establish Paedophile Ring

So www.leyf.org.uk the #paedophile RING #advises the UK government what more do they expect? We hope you enjoy looking back and sharing your memories on Facebook, from the most recent to those long ago. ON THIS DAY 7 years ago Naheel Julene Brown Legister is with Valdin Legister and 4 others . Pitchy patchy day at school! Man he’s got swag! ON THIS DAY  8 years ago Mervelee Ratty Nembhard is with…