Perhaps austere is not the exact word I'm looking for, but does anyone on the forum follow the old modernist principles of not touching alcohol, tobacco or any other stimulants?
My idea of a good day out in London is a couple of hours in Johns, an hour in Rays, then stroll up to Camden High Street to look for T.M. Lewin shirts at a fiver in 'Cancer Research', capuccino and a Coke at a Turkish-run Italian place on Parkway. (Oh, and looking in at the Stockpot!). No pub visits.
The great Lloyd Johnson inspired me in this, after years of falling over and coughing up my lungs, and I wish I could follow Ken Lovegrove's example and go vegan (but I can't). There is, I think, a Soho/modern jazz/beat tradition here, even if it's only a minority one, but I have devised certain personal rules that seem to work for me. I was brought up by a jazz crazy/Ivy-wearing father (first guy I ever knew to bring Timberland shoes back from New England), so I knew all about drug abuse from reading about Bird, Pepper, Chet et al. Alcohol didn't play much of a part in the 60-62 mod scene I don't think - although obviously drugs did - nor for northern soul fans at the Twisted Wheel and the Casino. Fashion or simply personal preference?
To me, for some reason, it goes with only wearing cotton, wool, cashmere or leather (most of the time anyway!) and keeping the body clean, the chin shaven and the hair sharp.
Any random observations?
I afraid I'm not terribly good at doing austerity in any form. Rather un-American, or at least unlike Americans, austerity.
chetmiles - whoever you are, I'm digging your work thus far. As someone who was once part of a group of very intense, serious young things who were given the tag 'mod-monks' on account of our abstinence from drink, drugs and the pleasures of the flesh (and this at the height of our youth and beauty), I can strongly relate to this post. Growing up in Liverpool surrounded by its working class pub culture I felt teetotalism was the only appropriate response. The straight world was drunk and sloppy and I was certainly neither. From the ages of 18 to 27 I didn't touch a drop. Just wasn't interested. I look back on this period with fondness. While others considered me and my fellow conspirators freaks of nature I delighted in their frustration. We got our kicks from trips to J.Simons, the myriad varieties of Italian coffee, insanely intense discussions, dancing to soul music and London in general. I kind of sold out as I grew up. I met a lovely middle class girl who kind of straightened out the kinks in my personality and introduced me to the pleasures of the grape (on which I now rather shamlelessly dote). On an early date she took me to Pizza Express in Wardour Street where we shared a bottle of wine. We then went on to the Swiss Centre to watch a new print of Bunuel's classic 'Belle de Jour'. I fell into deep, snore-filled slumber... oh the innocence of it all. But I admire self-control and an element of austerity and agree that it tallies with the mod philosophy and aesthetic. As Mr Meaden said etc etc... There is a perverse sense of pleasure and superiority to be gained from keeping your head while all around are losing theirs. Particularly when you're wearing full Ivy drag.
Best,
Toffeeman
Thanks for that, Toffeeman - and I know who you are - but I never once abstained from the pleasures of the flesh if I could possibly help it! That's taking it a little too far. Do you think it's just an Anglo-Soho-European thing? I partially latched onto it via trips to Italy and digging their coffee culture - to which you refer - which seems (TMWOT) far cooler than the English propensity for falling over and spewing. 'Belle de Jour'? How could you slumber with the beautiful Catherine up there on the silver screen? I have, however, seen young women dozing off to 'Red Desert', whilst I feasted mine eyes upon Monica Vitti...
P.S. Toffeeman - with your liking for white Levis (for which I'm now sadly too old), try tracking down a brand of desert boots called Garrett. They're Italian, chocolate brown, and taper beautifully.
Well as I'm sure you already know the Italians drink a great deal. But they do it so correctly. WITH food, rarely just as a shortcut to oblivion. And they normally look so good while doing it. Drink in the North European context is about escape from reality. Drink in Southern Europe is more about intensifying reality. Yes Italian coffee culture and John Simons changed my life forever. I am about to embark on an Italian degree course so strong was the impact of that intoxifying culture on my formative personality. Ever been to Bologna? Best dressed town in the world. Mod central. Ivytastic.
Last edited by Russell_Street (2008-10-10 10:46:12)
Never been to Bologna - been to Genoa, Venice, Rome, Verona, Rome, Pisa, Florence, Brindisi, Lecce... God, the Italian male! Heavens, the Italian female!
Jeeze, I didn't want to sound too puritanical; but Toffeeman hits the nail bang on the head when he discusses the way the races go about their drinking - anyone come across any Ivy Muslims? I bet they're out there somewhere.
It sounds good, truly it does...
Good day to you Chetmiles. On the subject of coffee and abstinance last weekend I was really saddened to see that my favourite London coffee bean vendor, Angelucci's on Frith Street is no more - subsumed by the large modern coffee shop that's sited on that corner of Old Compton Street. Wonderfully old fashioned shop run by wonderfully old fashioned staff. At least they've had the good sense to retain the original signage.
Staceyboy
A terrible shame, especially around Soho, because those places link us to an age all but wiped out by the Starbucks-Subway mentality. I guess some of those businesses once had an almost Dickensian air about them, and I would have loved to have seen Carnaby Street when it was just occupied by a tobacconist and very little else - in the dark, pre-Who, pre-union jack and target past, right? Camden town still seems lively enough, but Soho... mm... for the trendies...
I used to be "straightedge" in my youth....I'm a bit more relaxed nowadays and like a round of Guinness or a G&T, but you wont ever find me shitfaced drunk. I'm always driving anyways so I cant afford to get pist.
Never did smoke ever.
Just picking up on this again, after GGs references to eating. I'm still strictly non-drinking, non-smoking after a youth spent (from the age of about 14) totally shit-faced and reeking of Camels and Gitanes (Albert Camus phase), but, like Ian Strachan, I'm a sucker for salt beef. Also Cholent, klops and sausage butties with brown sauce (very northern, eh what, Big J?). But I've just bought a book on Vegetarian London, as my wife and one daughter are vegetarian. Is this place in Neal Street all right then? If I can eat veggie in Venice I expect I can manage it in Covent Garden. Any strict Ivy/modernist veggies/vegans out there?
Last edited by The Ace Face (2009-05-05 14:06:49)
My dear Face! I had no idea you were a member here.
It may be that Big John and myself have slightly romantic notions of that country: after all, we're outsiders. I had the interesting (if limited) experience last year of travelling by train between Rome and Venice, and saw more cement factories under grey skies than hilltop villages. Fine by me, showed me there's more to the country than just lazy cats washing themselves in sun-drenched piazzas and stupendous-looking girls advertising lingerie. But I'm no sucker for 'Roman Holiday' (feckin' Audrey Hepburn) or Fellini's offerings. Italians I know tend to be sad and angry: particularly about Berlesconi.
"modernist austerity - anyone for it?"
NO!
Brownshoe, you hedonist, I'm ashamed of you...
Well, those of us with the eye, the sensitivity, the feel for nuance and subtlety and genuine style, we all feel it when we're in Italy. The irony is of course, as 'The Ace Face' pointed out, that the Italians base a lot of their style on 'the British look'. But this is a British look no Brit wears because the Brits no longer have an inkling of style and taste, and the Italians have it at their fingertips and just effortlssly conjure up magical tailoring, shoemaking, eyeglasses and sunglasses design, the best materials, the best cloths, that eye for detail that mod is supposed to represent but so sadly fails to do. I care not a toss for Italian business practice - if the Brits are naive enough to get fleeced by sharp practice more fools them - but I have no doubt that the culture of looking, displaying, of making a show is so beautifully done in Italy. I was brought up, as most British kids are, to not make a spectacle of myself. In Italy it raises my spirits to see people making a spectacle of themselves in the most spectacular urban backdrops in the World.
GG
The bloody light is different; the texture of everything - in the right place at the right time: far from the madding crowd. The old town in Lecce and the winding alleyways of Ostuni are heaven on earth - if such a thing can exist - and a smile from a pretty girl in Trastevere took years off me... As for the evening stroll - what's it called, GG? - that's showing out with ten tons of style if ever I've seen it...
As for the original post, austerity and I don't get along too well.
However, on a side note, did anyone get a chance to see the relatively recent Italian flick Gomorrah yet? It explores a lot of the negatives you gents raise. It even gets into the corruption of the Italian fashion / textile industry. Despite its critical acclaim, I can't imagine the government being too fond of the vision of Italy it presents.