alternative fashion week
Another week has passed already and it seams like the fashion week has been ages ago. Still, there's a lot to tell, so i shall start here.
Swatch alternative fashion week was a one week long event in Spitalfields market, just around the corner of Liverpool street station in London.Organised by Alternative Arts (an organisation that sits in London,Bethnal Green somewhere)and needless to say, sponsored by Swatch.
I was really getting quite excited about it, preparing myself for it 24 hours a day, making clothes, making bussines cards, making jewelery, making flyers, photographing my work, getting more and more nervous, working hard, not eating a lot, neglecting my friends... you get the picture. Wanting to take as much with me as possible, I was working on my stuff just until the moment I realized I had to load up my bicycle to go and catch the train. Just aswell that i had to stop there, because I wouldn't have been able to take any more with me. My saddlebags were full, i had them on my bikerack another full sportsbag and a little fishing chair on top of them and a massive, big rucksack, densely packed on my back. Oh, and a little handbag slung around my shoulders. I was glad when I got to the train on time and enjoyed the two hours it took from Bristol to London Paddington, not doing anything but staring out of the window and eating smelly cheese sandwiches.
The first obstacle, upon arriving in London, was that the lift that would have smoothly taken me down to the underground station was out of order. So i had to manuver my fully loaded bike down the steps. No problem though. Going down the steps easy. Once I was in the underground system I realised what a bad time wheelchair drivers must have in the London Underground network.
Up the steps and down the steps and up again. Wouldn't there have been those lovely strong man who helped me carrying my bike up, because they couldn't bare the sight of a young woman torturing herself like that, I propably would have given up right there, underneath Paddington train station. The first time in a while that I've been so thankfull men exsist.
After the ordeal on the tube it was only a short ride, over Lodon Bridge, down Borough Highstreet and I was at the St.Christophers Hostel, my safe haven for the night. The sauna though, the main reason why I booked in for the night, wasn't going and all I was left with was a kind of warm jakoozi. I had a little swim anyway. Just out of protest because the saune was switched off. After a few more preparations for the market and a little chat with my room mates I went to bed and slept the interrupted sleep of someone who shares theire bedroom with eleven other people.
Swatch alternative fashion week was a one week long event in Spitalfields market, just around the corner of Liverpool street station in London.Organised by Alternative Arts (an organisation that sits in London,Bethnal Green somewhere)and needless to say, sponsored by Swatch.
I was really getting quite excited about it, preparing myself for it 24 hours a day, making clothes, making bussines cards, making jewelery, making flyers, photographing my work, getting more and more nervous, working hard, not eating a lot, neglecting my friends... you get the picture. Wanting to take as much with me as possible, I was working on my stuff just until the moment I realized I had to load up my bicycle to go and catch the train. Just aswell that i had to stop there, because I wouldn't have been able to take any more with me. My saddlebags were full, i had them on my bikerack another full sportsbag and a little fishing chair on top of them and a massive, big rucksack, densely packed on my back. Oh, and a little handbag slung around my shoulders. I was glad when I got to the train on time and enjoyed the two hours it took from Bristol to London Paddington, not doing anything but staring out of the window and eating smelly cheese sandwiches.
The first obstacle, upon arriving in London, was that the lift that would have smoothly taken me down to the underground station was out of order. So i had to manuver my fully loaded bike down the steps. No problem though. Going down the steps easy. Once I was in the underground system I realised what a bad time wheelchair drivers must have in the London Underground network.
Up the steps and down the steps and up again. Wouldn't there have been those lovely strong man who helped me carrying my bike up, because they couldn't bare the sight of a young woman torturing herself like that, I propably would have given up right there, underneath Paddington train station. The first time in a while that I've been so thankfull men exsist.
After the ordeal on the tube it was only a short ride, over Lodon Bridge, down Borough Highstreet and I was at the St.Christophers Hostel, my safe haven for the night. The sauna though, the main reason why I booked in for the night, wasn't going and all I was left with was a kind of warm jakoozi. I had a little swim anyway. Just out of protest because the saune was switched off. After a few more preparations for the market and a little chat with my room mates I went to bed and slept the interrupted sleep of someone who shares theire bedroom with eleven other people.
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