#brixton clothing

[wiiildflowerrr]

Proxy sweatpants by Brixton (on sale for $35), as seen on Calum during this epic display of interpretive dance:

[juzzybear05]

Brixton // Coca-Cola Collaboration range SS23 www.emale.store #emale #emalestore #emalelifestyle #shop22 #female #femalestore #sistastore www.fe-male.store #brixton #cocacola #ss23 #available #instore #online #shopnow #collaboration #summer #collection #nostalgic #clothing (at Gladstone, Queensland) https://www.instagram.com/p/Co4azk4JxwR/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[poundent]

. @xo.chuck.ox . Chillin In Her B-Girl Stance . Rockin That ALL WHITE @poundapparel.ca Tracksuit . #PoundApparel #ChuckBadNiss #clothingbrand #clothing #fashion #Toronto #mississauga #brampton #scarborough #rexdale #UK #london #birmingham #manchester #brixton https://www.instagram.com/p/ClHCU6_uYPt/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[folkloresthings]

❛ HEAVEN KNOWS ❜ ❨ lando norris x singer!reader ❩

📻 track two: wendy.

in which the they were the perfect couple, until they weren’t. or in which we take a look back into what made heaven itself fall apart.

. . . SEPTEMBER 2023

INSTAGRAM. september twenty—seventh.

liked by niallhoran, lizzymcalpine and 761,320 others

yourusername first song from the good witch! i wrote wendy after a day huddled under my duvet rewatching every adaptation of peter pan that exists. it’s all about falling for lost boys and trying your best to see the best in them even though your heart tells you better. it’s about not making sacrifices even though you want to, learning to put yourself first despite how much love might blind you to do the opposite. what about wendy!

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user STOP these songs are going to tear lando apart i just know it

charlottesiine wendy darling 🤍 lock the windows!!!!

user is lando her lost boy 😭😭😭

REWIND… AUGUST 2022.

for just under three years, heaven was all you knew. lando was a dream, all wrapped up in his love for you and forever devoted to your attentions. maybe the effect of being locked up together for months as the pandemic reigned had given you both a taste of stockholm syndrome and left you with nothing else to focus on. or maybe it was just time.

the beginning of summer break was when you felt the first shift. every other year, lando whisked you away on a holiday to the sunniest place he could find. he wined and dined you, making up for all of the lost time between the racing season and touring. only, this time, he had booked a trip to ibiza with max and his friends.

“what about me?”

“i don’t see them that often either, you know that,” he defended.

it was understandable, you supposed. he liked those kinds of places, you didn’t. so while he partied there, you spent a little extra time in the studio. but then it was a week in spain with carlos, another in croatia with daniel. the compromise came in the form of monaco. you would take some time off, leaving your london flat behind, and come stay with lando in his monte carlo apartment.

you were all excitement, until you realised your time there was scheduled around lando’s meetings and dj sets and boys night out. the desperation to be close to him trumped all else and so you followed him around like a lost puppy, forever blinded by the sweet kisses and doting promises.

“i’ll take you to dinner tomorrow night, just me and you,” lando would murmur in your ear, letting your frustration subside long enough to let him go back to his friends.

it took that whole month in monaco to realise that this is what lando wanted: someone to follow after him and live for the short term magic, only to be let down by the endless maybe’s, trusting that he’ll catch you when you fall. it terrified you, and yet your undying love kept you playing along.

“i have a show in brixton next week,” you told him on your last morning in monaco, shoving the last of your clothes into your case. “it’s low-key, for some of the really devoted fans. i got management to put your name on the list.”

lando zipped up the last of your belongings, soft thumbs caressing your cheeks. “i wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

you grinned happily, uncaring for whatever doubt sank in your stomach when it was just the two of you, his lips soothing on your warm skin. he loved you, truly.

INSTAGRAM. august twenty—first.

liked by nicolacoughlan, hozier and 780,629 more

y/nupdates y/n in brixton tonight! 21/8 🤍

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user1 the intimate shows w her are my fav 🥺🥺🥺

user2 mother!

user3 was lando there? i heard she gave him a shoutout

⤷ user2 she sang feels like this and dedicated it to him!

⤷ user4 yeah but it seemed like she was looking out for him in the back when she said it and it didn’t look like he was there ☹️

⤷ user5 ouch 🥲

“are you alright?”

it’s the first thing you ask when he answers the phone, and you know it’s horrible that you hope something bad has happened — but it’s better than the truth that weighs heavy on his lips.

“i’m so sorry love, i meant to call you earlier,” lando groans through your speaker, your dressing room door clicking closed behind you. still in your stage outfit, you await the excuses. “the flight was delayed and then cancelled. i would get the next flight but i’ve got that thing tomorrow evening.”

“oh, i see.” your eyes sting.. “are you back in the apartment now?”

“huh? oh yeah, i just got an uber back from the airport and i’m ordering some food now.”

if you had the energy to scoff and argue you would, for you can hear the distant bouncing of club music on the other end of the phone, most likely muffled by where lando has hidden away in the bathroom.

“that’s nice,” you whisper, picking anxiously at the skin around your nailbed. “well, the show went really well. i think that—”

“babe, you’re breaking up. i’ll call you tomorrow okay?” lando’s voice raises as the bathroom door on his side opens to let the loud music peek in. “i’m sorry again.”

“okay, bye,” you sigh, but the call ends before he can even hear it. sinking into the small sofa of the dressing room, curling into yourself, the tears flow over your perfect makeup — fading the lipstick you’d chosen just for him.

you couldn’t live like this, is what your friends told you when you spent your evening crying on their sofa. but you loved him, and you would follow him to the ends of the earth. you could be married soon, waiting up at night for the sound of the door unlatching. it’s a life you could have and you knew it — even if it wasn’t what you wanted.

INSTAGRAM. august twenty—second.

liked by charles_leclerc, taylorswift and 722,784 others

yourusername a week in neverland

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user1 boyfriend lando pics!!!

carlossainz55 so great to see you!👸

⤷ yourusername time for you to come to london now!!!!

⤷ carlossainz55 ✈️🏃🏻💨

user2 ofc lando brings her to the track even on summer break 🙄😅

landonorris my wendy darling ❤️

⤷ user3 does this make lando peter pan?

⤷ yourusername 🤍🤍🤍

user4 still sad we didn’t see lando at the london show :(

writers note: did i promise this new chapter ages ago? yes but just be happy you guys have it now 🫶❤️‍🔥

taglist: @openthenyoor01 @racingheartsworld @celestialend @cha-hot @gr1mes-cc @allywthsr @imsorare @youdontknowmeshh @bellewintersroe @orangetreekid

[nathaniel-underwood-is-an-intj]

A very shy Kitty Jones cosplay

This fandom is absolutely starved of content as it is but it's absolutely barren when it comes to cosplay content so shy as I am imma put these here. I figure Tumblr is a safe space for healthy dose of cringe right? 😅

I know these are a little 90s / 2016 grungy for Kitty, but those are the vibes I got from her while reading the books.

Starting from the top are the sort of things I imagined her wearing in the early days of the resistance at about 13/14 - I always got soft punk and very tomboyish vibes from her.

(I always think of Krysten Ritter as Jessica Jones when I think of Kitty, and as she gets older Jane Margolis from Breaking Bad in terms of looks)

Going down- at about 15/16 after the resistance is disbanded I imagined her to be more into grunge clothes and a little more feminine.

And at the bottom at 18/19 when Kitty is working in the Pub as quite a bit more feminine and quite early 2000s Camden Market kinda girl. (I know her hair is short by this point in cannon but oh well)

In an ideal world these would be set against the backdrop of Camden or Brixton but alas I had to make do with a garden.

Maybe I'll redo these at a later point with slightly more 2000s girlie vibes but for now please enjoy (⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

Music to match the vibes:

Cherry Bomb by The Runaways for younger Kitty

And LDN by Lily Allen for older Kitty

[kaedekolya]

"lie and truth."

it's time for the fifth instalment of my musical mondays series, where i share a favourite musical number every monday! this week, we enter an elite academy amidst shrewd lies and shocking truths. will friendship endure, or will betrayal tear them apart?

as usual, the video is not mine, but all translations are!

musical: eli (일라이)

cast: [lyon] yu taeyul, ki sejung, noh yun • [eli] bae nara, hong seungan, park jwaheon • [sophie] lee seoyoung, lee jiyeon • [alice] im yejin, seong minjae • [yulia] baek yeeun, sun yuha • [justin] shin hyucksu, hong kibeom • [headmaster] jeong jaeheon, byun heesang

synopsis: in the prestigious brixton academy for the rich and elite, the scholarship student lyon and his best friend eli are lauded as role models for the student body. that is, until the transfer student sophie upends the status quo alongside whispers and rumours. amidst the burgeoning distrust, the students defend themselves with lies upon lies that shake the very foundation they've built themselves upon. everyone has secrets, yet everyone seeks the truth — but is the truth they seek truly the real truth? and is there even a real truth at all?

production: new production (twitter / youtube)

[ this musical will be streaming online today at 7:30pm kst here, as well as on the next two mondays here and here (different cast each day)! a ticketlink account is required to purchase the streaming pass. ]

- ☽ -

하나만큼은 – at least one

+ 바람 rep. — wind (reprise)

noh yun as lyon, park jwaheon as eli

[Lyon] What are you doing?

[Eli] I have faith in you. Whatever comes your way, you’ll pull through. That’s who you are. The real problem is me. Nothing interests me nowadays. As expected, the righteous path of law ought to be walked by someone like you. A righteous person, like you.

[Lyon] What do you mean by that?

[Eli] Hey, should I just flunk the exam? That way you’ll definitely get in, regardless of what Sophie does.

[Lyon] What do you think you’re saying?! We promised to enter the same university together. Look, if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t even be here. You were the one who led me into this world. That’s why we have to keep going together, till the end!

[Eli] Lyon… I’m sorry. Calm down, okay?

[Lyon] …I’m sorry.

[Lyon] From a certain point Not a single thing has been going my way Not my grades, nor my evaluations, not even my emotions

The words that surface endlessly in my mind “Perhaps the image you have of yourself May not be the real thing”

Scared, fearful, unfamiliar, anxious These feelings, this side of me This isn’t who I am

I don’t want anything to change I’m going to live as I planned

[Lyon] When I’m with you, I can stay true to myself. The me whom you believe in. That side of me.

[Lyon] The future that I dream of I can’t let it crumble Can’t just this one thing Turn out the way I wish for? Without anything changing Even if it’s just the two of us

- ☽ -

[Lyon] Hey, that’s dangerous. Come back down—

[Eli] Lyon! You remember, right? You told me so — as long as I hold fast to my balance, I won’t be swayed!

[Lyon] I did..?

[Eli] Do you still remember? The day we first came to this place A school we’d never aimed for A dream we’d never harboured As if wearing ill-fitting clothes We were nothing but stifled

[Eli] C’mere. Ah, c’mon!

[Lyon] Coming.

[Eli] Ah, it’s refreshing!

[Lyon] Ah, it’s refreshing!]

[Eli] Lyon.

[Eli] Do you remember that day? You told me, who felt trapped Not knowing where to head towards Or what to pursue, To feel the wind

[Lyon/Eli] Feel the wind If we feel it with our hearts Even without flying, we can soar As long as we don’t lose our balance We can be free, anywhere

[Eli] Hey, grab my hand! Grab it, grab it! Lyon. Shall I tell you a secret?

[Lyon] I have one too. A secret.

[ alternate pairings here (yu taeyul, bae nara) and here (ki sejung, hong seungan). ]

[whinlatter]

??? Wait what’s wrong with London boy? I love that song!

In The people v. London Boy, the International Criminal Court at the Hague found Taylor Alison Swift guilty of:

romanticising English men dragging you to the pub to watch rugby with their terrible friends, thereby doing irreparable harm to the long-suffering women on London’s heterosexual dating market

implying that walking around Camden Market in the afternoons is in any way a pleasant and/or relaxing activity rather than an extreme sport dodging tourists and goth teens (no offence to goth teens it’s just a lot of your clothes are really spiky)

endorsing Brixton nightlife (a night out mired in the fraught politics of South London’s gentrification dancing alongside the world’s rudest horse girls? I think not!)

inadvertently dragging Joe Alwyn for being a lil posh boy (‘took me back to Highgate’ — we get it Taylor! He’s asset rich!)

suggesting Shoreditch these days is anything other than a playpen for off-duty bankers and truly terrible DJs

inflicting upon the world the immortal line ‘but god I love the English’, thereby undoing decades of reckoning with the many sins of the British empire

Ms Swift was, however, cleared of the charge of promoting a toxic drinking culture, as the judge found that ‘drinking in the afternoon’ was, in fact, ‘very fun actually’

(also if you see me on a night out in Brixton throwing it back to this song no you didn’t 👀)

[nitannichionne]

If He Was Your Fan (A Henry Cavill Fanfic), Chapter 71, Version 2: Found Wanting, Part 2

Shopping becomes a blur, now. Even though you are all shopping for dresses and such, your friends are giving you special attention. You know you didn’t commit a fashion faux pas; you just did what you wanted and said to hell with the fads and did your own thing. There is no law against it, but your heart winced at some of the reactions. Henry is a millionaire actor, but he is also descendant of nobility, therefore is seen as needing to hold a standard. Between his looks and status that was tough. You knew that, but you didn’t know that till now.

But you made it. And not a moment too soon. Sophia made arrangements for tea at Hyde Park’s , her treat, which is nice.

You are all sitting and enjoying yourselves.

“Do you think I did okay on the dresses this time?” you ask.

“You did fine on the dress you picked for the premiere!” Stella said, and rolls her eyes. “Don’t worry about the public. You’ll never please them all, anyway.”

“I know that’s right,” Chiru chimes in. “Fuck ‘em, they just want to be in your place, anyway.”

Suddenly, you hear a chuckle…a familiar one. You frown. That can’t be…you turn around and rise from your seat to confirm your suspicions. You go into the bigger room and find Henry and some woman at a table for two talking. He does a double take and notices you.

“Henry!” you say brightly. You bend down to kiss him and laugh softly, “I didn’t know you’d be here today!”

“Hello, darling,” he says quickly. “I thought you were at Trent today.”

I’ll bet you did. “We started at Trent,” you say sweetly. “but we decided to go shopping for that Christmas party we got invited to. Sophia surprised us with reservations here for tea.” You look at the woman, who seems familiar and raise your eyebrows at him.

“Oh, this is Lara, Lara Winters—”

“Lara Winters?” you extend your hand, giving a slight frown. She looks familiar to you.

“Ah, yes,” She smiles up at you as she takes your hand and shakes it. Your glance drops to her beautifully manicured hand and you also take in her extremely groomed appearance, her makeup and nails impeccable, her clothes giving her the impression of one who modeled. You were in a long sleeved tee and suede sports jacket with riding pants and boots from that morning.

“I knew I’d seen you before. You were at the London Grand Dame function not long ago.”

“Yes, yes I was,” she says slowly, and glances at Henry, then back at you.

“I remember you because you volunteer at the children’s hospital and library in the city,” you say with a smile. “I volunteer in Brixton.”

“And you ride at Trent,” she went on. “Oh, my, you’re the one who rides Lucifer—”

“Luc,” you correct. You look over your shoulder and see your friends looking at this situation. Stella looks upset, Chiru is giving a side eye and Sophie is trying to smile but her eyes look more anxious. “Well, I’d better get back. Nice meeting you, guess I’ll see you at the Grand Dame Christmas party.” You bend again and kiss Henry’s forehead. “See you later.”

“Cheers, darling.”

You give him a quick smile and walk back to your table.

“Well, what a surprise,” Sophie says with obviously feigned optimism. “Did you have a nice visit?”

“Sophie,” Churi rolls her eyes.

“Ladies, I need to get through this tea,” you tell them. “So if we can go on with the conversation we were having about our arrangements for the party?” They all look uncertain. They all don’t like what happened any more than you do, but you are trying to keep your composure, and if the lump in your throat gets too big you won’t be able to breathe and your eyes will water. “Please.”

They all comply, but you don’t like this, and inside you feel you are dying. First he doesn’t seem excited about you accompanying him on the press junket, and now this. And the ways he broke it off with women in the past? Are you a flavor of the month-no, wait-year?

As you continue the conversation with the others you Google Ms. Lara Winters. She is upper class like Henry, looks like his mother, is slender and taller than you...does volunteer work...has a cute dog named Buttons, and is marketing executive and project manager for a video game company?

Shit.

[theangel-aziraphale]

*knocks on door, fixes tie. their clothes would make them look very put-together if they weren't wrinkly, worn-out and a few sizes too large. Because of their withered face, their age is ambiguous; anywhere from 24-78*

Hello good Sir, Madam, Mx or otherwise,

do you have a moment to talk about our gourd and pavior Marco 🎃? He does excellent work out in the streets, especially for a pumpkin. He paved half of Brixton(although, rather disappointingly, not with a ton of bricks), paving the way for the people, especially the pump-wearing variety struggling on cobble-stone. Here, take a slice of peach cobbler, for we must rejoice! *hands muffin from coat pocket. it looks fine, if crumbly. The person smiles well-meaningly*

...Also is your fine établissement home to a chair, couch or carpet upon with I may lay mine addled head of mine? Actually, this step of yours looks most... commodious. Would you mind? Unless I would disturb your librophilic patrons, a terrible blunder I'd be most regretful to commit! Ah, no, alas, dear me. 'Y' is the name, most pleasureful to have met thee, for 'Y' is what people say when they meet me, see me, pass me or miss me. *Y reaches out to shake Aziraphale's hand*

How kind of thee to listen to the ramblings of silly old 'Y'. (Most tiresome, I should think, although a generous soul such as you shan't admit it!) I should want to bless thee! May you be blessed. May you be happy. May you be at peace.

*Aziraphale stares at Y with a most confused expression. Unsure what to make of the being. So he simply smiles at them and shakes their hand.

He isn't too sure about the cobbler, but he holds it all the same. He doesn't want to be taken for a fool... but this person seems harmless...*

You can stay on my sofa by my desk if you like. It's not tiresome, I'm just surprised! I don't mind if you disturb my patrons at all! It's good to meet you... Y is it?

[haeccorizon]

DENZIL PATRICK

Fall 2023 Menswear

Daniel Gayle, the designer behind the London menswear label Denzil Patrick, is pretty nifty when it comes to naming his collections. This spring was dubbed London Belongs To Me, while for fall he came up with the equally evocative All Dressed Up and Somewhere To Go. That sense of evocation is two fold. For one, with All Dressed Up...Gayle has tapped into the coming season's new mood for menswear: a bit more glam, a bit more peacocking, and a whole lot more newness when it comes to tailoring. And evocative because Gayle is canny in a whole other way too. There's a rich sense of narrative going on here, personal and reflective, emotive and joyful. And that could be exactly the right approach to be taking now as a tiny indie in a world of behemoth megabrands: To make your label meaningful, tell your own story, not anyone else's.

In Gayle's case, that always starts with family, with all the love, connection, and complication that entails. With All Dressed Up... the starting point was an image of his mother taken during the very early '80s in the multicultural south London neighborhood of Brixton. And, another earlier family snapshot from the '40s, of his grandmother glammed up to go shopping in London's West End, a photograph brimming with the palpable and recognizable thrill of having made the effort and having made the effort and

turned yourself out in style in a

sartorial rebuke to whatever else is going on in your life. "I'd spent so much time talking about my grandfathers, Denzil and Patrick [hence the label name]," he said, laughing, “I wanted to give a nod to the powerful women in my life."

That led him to think about the family home in Brixton; to the very fabric (literally and metaphorically) of the domestic environment-the carpets and net drapes—that have become the prints for red or silver gray plush velvet jackets and silken shirts, or lace wrap dresses which can be layered with sharp jackets and pants with a snug-fit higher waistline. The tailoring was inspired by his snappily suited young Mod uncles, while his fake furs (made from deadstock fluffy stuff) came from that image of granny.

In effect, there's a whole generational and gender interplay going on here. That's powering a lot of fashion these days, but Gayle's is specifically familial. You don't need to know anything about the Gayle clan to feel the emotional resonance in these clothes, but it's there, and it makes his work all the more compelling for it. Make fashion, but mak it feel, is the message here-like the familiar comfort of Gayle's cozy Aran cardigans, which have been recycled from vintage ones, then re-dyed in the most gorgeous shades of scarlet and emerald. It's creative ambition informed by emotion.

Elsewhere, Gayle delved again, as he has done in the past, into his early dance training, giving a nod to the the brilliant, Puck- ish Scottish choreographer Michael Clark, who danced with Leigh Bowery and in BodyMap (the bodysuit the cult '80s London duo designed for Clark featured cut-outs, memorably including one exposing his ass). That led Gayle to explore how fit and freedom of movement can work together-that very au courant wider, sloping shoulder, or the narrow, warm- up pant leg, or the deep curving armholes on a pale mauve duchesse satin tee that's been spangled with jewels. That's not the only decorative flourish. Equally personal, Gayle's partner, the artist James Bosley, sketched a sassy character called Lydia, all Jessica Rabbit curves and Riot Grrrl attitude, who appears on the likes of a sweater with an exposed back. So, yes, dressed up, to be sure, all and with enough thought and imagination to suggest these clothes are definitely going somewhere.

[mia-seth-adventures]

True story: Teenage Years

This film is a great representation of my youth (albeit I was a couple of years younger than the film period). The scooters were still there, going out clothes were the same (handmade suits and shirts – still have the ties), but casual wear had graduated to Levis, Ben Sherman polo shirts and monkey boots. Haircuts were ¼” and we were tagged as Suede Heads or Soul Boys (Skin Heads came later).

Friday night, for a few of us, was blues night at the Marquee Club in London’s West End. We saw some great bands who went on to be huge there – like The Who.

Saturday night was dance night at the Locarno in Streatham. All was good until the balloons came down at the end then, two rival football club fans, would take a pop at each other. It was all one-on-one, no weapons and hand shakes at the end (I was lucky most of the time as my Dad had been an amateur boxer and taught my brother and I how to defend ourselves).

The cops were pretty good in those days. They collected us up, put us in the back of the black maria van, stopped half-way down Brixton Hill and offered us a choice of appearing in court next day or a slapping and a long walk home (the buses had stopped running at that time and we didn’t drive there because of the drinking). We took the slapping.

They were funny too. They used to raid the Ram Jam Club in Brixton looking for reds and blues and complaining about the ‘funny smelling’ cigarettes.

It all ended, in a flash, following a more serious incident, and my best friend and I went on in another direction including leaving home to rent a top floor flat in a situation of opposition to the (wrong) norm. Our live in landlords were a Jamaican family and we were introduced to ‘blues nights’ and a different, caring, way of life.

[lazaefair]

For youtube wrapped: 4 Andy/Quynh 👀

Brixton Strut, by Simon Jefferis and Natty Reeves (the smoothest and funkiest of jazz-hop)

(A lot of the songs in this recap will be jazz-hop, because true to science, my musical taste has frozen at what I was listening to when I turned 30)

(Andromache's Seven AU)

Rich white people tend to look at Quynh, look at her height, her features, her taste in sleekly feminine makeup and clothing - and make certain assumptions based on their own racist heuristics, and assume that she is there to be Andy's arm candy.

That tends to last up to the point where she's robbed them blind and is rubbing their faces in it - occasionally literally. Grace and class? That's for when she's on the con. When the job is done, all that's turned superfluous, and by god she is going to get her crowing in while Andy plays backup dancer to her one-woman celebration in tasteless gloating.

(Booker seemed offended the first time he witnessed one of Quynh's gleeful monologues at a tied-up mark - but whatever, he wasn't the one the mark had try to literally buy off of Andy, so fuck him anyway.)

[the-expose-on-girls]

Small Town Drama: The Hair Salon of Gossip and Entitlement

First, let me give a little context on the small business landscape in this small-ish town. They all fit into one of three categories: they are a client of the shady ad agency with local political connections, they are a client of the town pariah's indie PR business, or they quietly mind their own business and stay out of the drama wars. About a year ago, the pariah PR lady said something that the shady ad agency took objection to, so the shady ad agency rallied all their clients to boycott PR lady's clients. I'm no expert but that sounds illegal, or at least like a major conflict of interest.

It recently came to my attention that a local hair salon has been rising in the ranks of the small businesses in my area. In dealing with the salon ladies' children at my work, I quickly discovered that they're all spoiled, entitled, disrespectful, and get bailed out of punishment for their poor behavior CONSTANTLY by their equally entitled mothers.

My boss told me she used to get her hair done at that salon. Then one day, she overheard all the ladies spreading slanderous gossip about people in town, and she never went back. The venomous glee with which they tried to rip apart the reputations of people around town with lies, at no provocation, was frightening and she was genuinely scared they might go after her next. The kind of stuff they were making up and spreading was the kind of scandalous tales that gets people fired and not be able to get hired anywhere else.

I barely see these women at work, because when they come to pick up their hell spawn every afternoon, they're in 2-story tall trucks with tinted windows. I stand there waiting until they deign to roll down the windows, glare down at me through their Coach sunglasses and tell me the name of the child they're picking up. This description would make most people imagine "Karens" in their forties, but all these women are starting young, somewhere in their twenties and thirties.

I recognize most of the other parents' cars and faces. But these salon ladies---I kid you not---all look, live, and act exactly the same. I CANNOT for the life of me tell them apart. They're more twins than actual biological twins. Same hair, same makeup, same clothes, same cars, same husbands, same children, same dogs. It's insane and especially obvious in the salon group photo:

Do these women realize they are all exact clones of each other? And not in the cool sci-fi way---in the creepy horror movie way. Balayage hair, ankle boots, kids named Brixton, Toyota Forerunners with the tree silhouettes pasted down both sides.

A hair salon full of clones who feel they are entitled to everything they want. They think they are soOooOOo powerful because they are affiliated with the uppity people at the shady ad agency and they are "award-winning small business owners". (The contests are, in fact, rigged.)

Shut up, you cut hair! The only difference between you and the ladies over at Great Clips is your stinky attitude. Personally, I would rather get my hair done at Great Clips than subject myself to a room full of grown-up high school mean girls.

[dweetdesign]

Urban Gear Street Accouterment

A youth clothing brand that finds its roots in the vibrant streets of Brixton offers comfortable streetwear designed for everyday use, perfect for those who live life on the go. Embracing minimalism, brand philosophy extends to both the visual identity and apparel design. Each piece is crafted with a focus on simplicity and functionality, ensuring that classic style lives on in the new brand, infused with the spirit and voice of the streets.

Watch more: https://dweet.design/works/urban-gear/

[londonscreenprinters]

Discovering London's Premier T-Shirt Printers for Tailored Style

In the bustling streets of London, fashion isn't just a statement—it's an expression of individuality. From the vibrant markets of Camden to the chic boutiques of Shoreditch, the city is a melting pot of diverse styles and tastes. And for those who crave something truly unique, customised t-shirts have become a staple in wardrobes across the capital.

In a world where mass-produced garments dominate the racks, there's something special about donning a piece that reflects your personality. Whether it's a bold graphic, a witty slogan, or a beloved photograph, customised t-shirts allow you to showcase your creativity and stand out from the crowd. And with the rise of innovative printing techniques and a growing number of specialist printers, finding the perfect provider for your bespoke designs has never been easier.

So, where can you find the top T-Shirt Printing London for that extra dose of flair? Let's take a journey through the city's thriving customisation scene and discover the artisans behind some of the most sought-after personalised garments.

First stop: Camden Market. Known for its eclectic mix of stalls and shops, Camden is a haven for those seeking alternative fashion and unique finds. Here, you'll find a plethora of t-shirt printers offering everything from traditional screen printing to cutting-edge digital techniques. Whether you're after a vintage-inspired design or a contemporary masterpiece, Camden's vibrant atmosphere is sure to inspire your next creation.

Next up: Shoreditch. As the epicentre of London's creative scene, Shoreditch is home to a multitude of independent designers and bespoke boutiques. Here, you'll find t-shirt printers pushing the boundaries of style and innovation. From eco-friendly inks to sustainable fabrics, these artisans are redefining what it means to create customised clothing with a conscience.

But the appeal of customised t-shirts isn't limited to London's trendiest neighbourhoods. From Brixton to Brick Lane, and beyond, t-shirt printers can be found in every corner of the city, each with its own unique flair and style. Whether you're looking for a quick turnaround for a special event or seeking a long-term partnership for your brand, London offers a diverse range of options to suit every need and budget.

And let's not forget the online marketplaces and platforms that have revolutionised the way we shop for customised clothing. With just a few clicks, you can connect with talented designers and printers from around the world, allowing you to bring your vision to life from the comfort of your own home.

But perhaps the true beauty of customised T Shirt Printers London lies in the stories they tell. Whether it's a cherished memory, a beloved hobby, or a message close to your heart, each design carries a piece of your identity with it. And in a world that's constantly changing, there's something comforting about wearing a piece of clothing that's uniquely yours.

So, whether you're a seasoned fashionista or a first-time designer, why not unleash your creativity and explore the world of customised t-shirts? With London's top t-shirt printers at your fingertips, the possibilities are endless.

[mysterymirrors]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Chubbies Originals Stretch Short || The Silver Linings 4" - Grey - M.