What Grabbed Me Pt I

I often scroll through my phone pictures when I'm feeling nostalgic, and when I was doing this yesterday I noticed how many screenshots I'd taken in 2014. I'm an Instagram devotee and I always grab what catches my eye - that's the the beauty of iPhones eh, it allows me to make pretty but organised clutter. Since 2014 was such a digital evolution and, in my opinion, a year of the visual, here's some of my photo library, or picture journal, for your perusal. It may have been more timely to do this before the New Year, but I don't care. Uploads will be in instalments, because I'm incapable of whittling down 164 images and that's already an edited collection. Perhaps another New Year's resolution would be to use Tumblr...

How to Defeat a Shopaholic at Her Own Game

Last night I found myself attempting to beat box to my family over supper. My sister was my musical sidekick and carried out wild and flailing miming actions. This strange behaviour is not unusual in our family, but this time there was actually some context. We were trying, unsuccessfully, to recreate the mood of our shopping expedition in Manchester on the second Saturday of December when I went to stay with her at university. It was probably one of the most stressful experiences of my life. I am a hard-core shopaholic; I wouldn't make this shit up.

Shopping, for most girls at least, is a kind of ritualistic bonding activity. I'm ashamed on behalf of the sisterhood to admit that I tend to shop better alone, mostly because my unbounded spending power tends to drain others of theirs. My uni housemate regularly got dragged round Leeds city centre in my wake, so from second year on when we'd made more friends, there was a kind of silent agreement that we wouldn't shop together again. It's really only when the shops are closing that I declare I am 'shopped out' - my equivalent of 'tapping out' of a hard fought boxing match: I shop till I drop. Manchester City Centre was one of the toughest matches of my career in the ring, and I was tempted to tap out early on. My sister and I thought it would be a fun, sisterly, girly thing to do to go shopping together. We were MISTAKEN. 

Have you ever thought to yourself that you actually wanted to go shopping because you fancied a pre-night out in prep for the actual night out you still need an outfit for? No, neither have I. Yet every shop we went into had been transformed into a nightclub, complete with DJs; DJs, who also MC'd whilst you rode the escalators. As soon as I stepped into H&M my heart started beating faster, 'Allllriiiight H&M how we doing? Are you ready to get your Christmas presents TODAY?!!' I felt as if I had to grab items in time with the heavy bass that was coursing through my veins; I wouldn't have been surprised to see my pupils had dilated from the adrenaline rush, or to turn and see someone gurning behind me. The effect the music had on us was like some terrible trip. I don't know if the market research behind this atmosphere in shops is that it gets people psyched up into a spending frenzy, but it quite honestly caused me nausea and dehydration. I was mortified to have to take a seat next to the boyfriends and husbands relegated to the soft pleather stools outside the changing rooms to refocus. I wish I had been more spirited and broken into spasming dance moves.

But we ploughed on, not to be defeated. Hope was fairing remarkably well - perhaps because she has a more regular slew of similar nightlife in her weekly student schedule, while I have apparently aged beyond recognition. When we emerged from H&M, empty-handed, the opponent was still dominant. Great tides of humanity swarmed towards us, and we really had to punch and push our way over to Urban Outfitters. It's moments like this when you realise just how many humans there are in the world, and I questioned how many of them were enjoying the consumer experience? A large portion of the human race had certainly descended to give it a try. It was also one of those days were outside it was freezing, but inside any shop I thought I might spontaneously combust from overheating. Luckily I had worn a lot of layers, my other winning fights with the high street had not left me totally unprepared for my greatest challenge yet. 

Topshop was the same as H&M, with worse MCs and even more loaded bass. All I could keep saying was how stressed out I was, and that we could never bring our mother here - she doesn't even know what house music is, but she would have gained a pretty quick and trashy education in it. She might well have been in need of some booze, and maybe some mild drugs to get round the Arndale centre without crying. After 4 hours the only thing I emerged with was my work Secret Santa present: a book from Waterstones entitled 'Baking Bad' for my Walter White loving colleague.

 Since that fateful day I've been asking who on earth thought shoppers would be turned on by all of this sensory overload? Obviously no one can stop people descending on a city centre on a December Saturday, and I'm sure the shops still have their best turnovers on the weekend - but the experience only pissed me off. If there was ever a method in getting people not to buy stock, this would be it. There should be a sense of excitement and a gradual but unexpected build up, climaxing in the thrill of the purchase, not the sense that you're in a rush, it was distinctly average and all over too fast, leaving you with nothing but a faulty item and empty regret (I apologise for the innuendo). The big High Street names can rely on the fact that their products are cheap and cater for the masses, and so people will always buy, but no brand should rely on this and must continue to welcome its entire range of customers. Just like the music chosen can exclude and isolate, so does this approach. Trying to be young and hip will alienate mums shopping with their daughters, or just grumpy old women like me. I thought I was the Mohammed Ali of shopping, but even he was eventually beaten. 

The Bee's Knees

Olivia Bee is a Brooklyn-based teen photographer prodigy. She shot a campaign for Converse aged just 15, has since shot campaigns for Nike and Hermes among others, and has done a TED talk. Sorry if this has made you feel like an under achiever. 

I feel totally absorbed by the pictures...a mixture of real life, documentary and art. They've got that trendy indy filter feel that is saturating social media and tumblrs at the moment..but there's something a bit more effortless and natural about it. I think that's because the photos are of real moments. Her 'Lovers' series is made up simply from photos of her friends. The other pictures I've posted are from her 'Humanless' series and 'Dreams'. Each photo stands completely effectively on its own though - maybe that's what makes them so good. The series titles are perfect fits in terms of logical grouping but each picture speaks for itself.

Photos sourced from Olivia Bee's website and tumblr.

Colonel Mustard

Corduroy Skirt 

Antipodium @ Asos

Chartreuse Cardigan with Faux Fur Collar

Tartan Wool Skirt Topshop Concession Floor Oxford Circus

Tartan Wool Skirt 

Maybe it's because the winter chill is setting in, and the grey skies and rain too, that I've been seeking out some sunshine for my wardrobe. I'm not even sure if yellow really suits me, particularly mustard. I hate eating the stuff, so why wear it? The clever thing about mustard yellow, at least in my opinion, is that if you can pull it off it goes with a lot of stuff. Almost like a bolder, brighter khaki. And for someone like me, who lives in black, it adds what I am loathed to call a 'pop' of colour. Eughh that phrase is so Americanised and cliche - but true. It's probably better with a tan and some beach-bleach hair to boot, but beggars can't be choosers, so if the sun won't come to me I'm going to go and get it. 

Do You Speak Visual?

The main reason I wanted my parents to get iPhones was to introduce them to emojis. Nothing quite compares to that moment of enlightenment when you are virtually gifted with another language by the powers of Apple. It's like watching a cat with a ball of string, or a baby fascinated by a pushable button. Recently, to my delight, my mum unlocked that colourful bank of alternative communication, and it was beautiful, although she does mainly focus on the flower selection. I say give it time, for the iPhone now presents endless possibilities - why communicate in standard English when a picture speaks a thousand words? One of my university housemates loves emojis so much she even has an emoji t-shirt. I asked her what the big deal was, and she said this: 

"I love the joy of communicating with a language that is both totally absurd and universal. Sometimes there are situations in life that can only ever be expressed by a pile of poo with a smiling face on it." Harriet Henry, voice of a generation. But that's the thing isn't it, that no matter what language you speak you can appreciate the meaning of an image? Emojis may be a trivial example, but they're a relevant one when thinking about how much the world is employing a new visual dictionary. What pictures you put out there say a lot about who you are as a person.
When Facebook brought in the cover photo, a lot of people saw it as a chance to express themselves, make a statement, promote events with an advertising banner or just put lots of fluffy rainbow animals on their profile. It's always been cool to be creative and those who actually physically make and create are hailed as a kind of 21st century ideal, only now it's easy as pi for the artistically inept to appear creative too. Everyone can edit their own mediocre photography, or simply create a strong statement through the imagery they adopt from a professional. The language of visual can, in this sense, be a deceitful and limited one. Instagram is huge, Pinterest too, and blogs have become perhaps even more widely read than magazines. Everyone panicked that the digital age would be the end of print but beautiful editorials are still alive and kicking and what coffee table books you lay out in your sitting room still state your creative inclinations as much as the blogs you follow. Blogs become books, books become blogs; the shift is that print can spread (excuse the pun) a lot faster, be shared quicker and the boundaries of the page are quite literally being stretched.
Take Because Magazine, an innovative new publication that arrives in your hands in print form and then requires the reader to use the Fashion Scan app to bring its pages to life. You simply hold your smart phone over the page, and a video will pop up, or some commentary from the article's editor. You can shop the products in the shoots directly from your phone, and even use the app to scan any fashion ads or billboards to discover extra content. Is this the future of print? If it is I must say I could come around. As editor-in-chief Caroline Issa says, the worlds of print and digital shouldn't be in a tug of war, we shouldn't feel one is more intellectual than the other. They can be "in one package" that "optimises what each medium can offer us."
The world of business if getting in on this too. In a similar way, brands are using scanning apps to enhance their marketing and advertising campaigns. No longer is a market researcher with a clipboard the only way to gain insight. Instead of having to create powerful advertising images from data, it can now all begin from an image. In his article for the Times, James Dean talks about the US company Ditto Labs, which has developed image recognition software to pick up logos and brand names in people's social media snaps. The technology allows marketeers to assess the sentiment or emotion attached to their brand through analysing the actions and facial expressions captured alongside it in a photo. One amusing stat is that 13% of people wearing visible Adidas logos were also interested in Justin Bieber. Aww, the young and chavvy youth of today.
This technology all sounds very clever and futuristic. It also seems intrusive if it's targeting tweeny boppers. On the other hand, I can't help admitting that if we are willing to express and present ourselves in the medium of surface imagery, show off the latest brand to our followers and filter ourselves into a better picture, then perhaps we cannot complain if we are also judged by it personally and commercially. Visual language is all at once a brilliant window of creative opportunity and a form of self-imposed social labelling. The question is, do you speak visual? And if you don't, do you want to? Some couldn't care less, some have a slight flare for it, some manipulate it and some people are downright fluent. However else you choose to express yourself, you can't deny you understand visual power, because branding is inescapable...unless you live in outer Mongolia without wifi.

Picture 1 - The Writing

Picture 2 - My recently used emojis. Read into it what you will. 

The Cool Kidz

This is how I wished I could dress everyday; that kind of effortless grunge that's not too in your face and that keeps a subtle femininity to it. I wish Cara Delevingne dressed like this in real life - it's not often we see her looking so soft since she's become a loud role model, but all praise to her for that. 

Shot by Alisdair McLellan for W Magazine, with Adwoah Woodge, Cora Corre, Will Heard, Cosima Diamond, Sam Rollinson and Danny Brady - the new London royalty, all looking slightly ethereal and out of reach. One of the first shoots I posted on here was the 90's Anglo Saxon Attitude. To me this is the perfect modern reinterpretation of a black and white London and the coolest kids in town. 

Styling Jane How. Photos from The Fashionography.