The East End Thrift Store Part Deux.

So the East End Thrift Store had a new delivery of capes, sweaters, shirts and dresses. We thought it would be rude not to go down and take a look. A free bar was the main reason we went down there though. We stopped at the Blind Beggar on Whitechapel High Street, had a few beers, ordered a cheese board, played pool, had a couple of arguments then strolled down to Assembly Passage. I also knew there would be some trendy looking kids lurking about, so took my photographer, Pablo, along with me to snap some fashionistas. I wasn't disappointed.




This young lady seemed to coordinate her outfit with the Bow Wow at her feet. Bobble hat, Body Con dress, over sized leather jacket and matching tights with vintage boots. A great look for the upcoming winter months. Even her pup couldn't keep his eyes of her.

The massive scarf wrapped around her neck, with a khaki long coat and red hair. The crazy curls, distressed denim jacket, grandad jumper and black tights. Two looks that stood out from the crowd. Showing her support for our forces with a paper poppy, and the customary beers in hand. They deserved to be papped and posted.

Colour! A true statement outfit. Oxblood boots, red tights, a lacy yellow dress and mustard tweed jacket with hair in a bun. Grandma chic. You couldn't help but look at this girl as she scanned the rails for bargains.

Geek chic is still alive and kicking. A good mop of hair, fitted coat and checked scarf with skinny jeans and an air of authority. Another stylish lad photographed by Pablo for Style Council.

This lad had a real grungy look going on. Skin tight jeans, denim shirt, checked scarf, distressed biker jacket, NHS specs and beanie hat. Another winner in the style stakes.

Layers, layers, layers. You can never go wrong when teaming denim with a flannel shirt, a pretty dress, large necklace, silk scarf in your hair and headphones hanging at your side. The type of gal you wanna have a chat with and find out what she's up to. A cute look for a vintage shopping trip.

The owl sweater won it for me. I love silly novelty jumpers, very Flight of the Conchords. Teamed with a tatty looking coat and tight jeans and this guy has that messed up look down to a tee. Another find by Pablo my photographer, he never lets me down.

Cute brogues, cream tights, a pencil skirt, delicate top, chunky belt, sheepskin coat and a flowing scarf. A head turning look for the cold nights drawing in. The broach is a nice touch to an understated look.

Looking like Serge from Kasabian, this lad proves that you can put on your nan's fur coat and still look Rock 'n' Roll. Add a delicate scarf, two day old stubble and skinny jeans, and the look screams 'I'm in a band!' Doubt he's as well off as the boys of England's biggest band.

One all in black and t'other in fur, tights and ankle boots. Two totally different styles, but two totally eye catching looks.

A tweed blazer, flat cap, burgundy DM's and skinny jeans; this guy could be your grandad, but he isn't. Looking every inch the gent, simple but effective.

So I woke up this morning and realised that I had spent ninety quid on a pair of loafers, three jumpers and a cape. A bad mistake considering I don't get paid for three weeks and I have fuck all money anyway. To forget about my spending spree we went and downed a few drinks at the White Hart, jumped on the Central Line and had a couple of poached eggs on toast at home. A perfect end to a lovely evening..........

The world ends in Southend.

So I was kinda interested in discovering whether the style and grace of a lot of Londoners had spanned its wings and ventured further afield. Past the suburbs of Walthamstow and Chingford, down the A406, through Buckhurst Hill and Loughton and ever speeding down the motorway towards the wonder that is Southend. It hadn't. They were at least 15 years behind the rest of us. Some, if not most, had no teeth. Weather beaten men in shiny leather jackets were gambling on the shitty fruit machines at 10am, some were on the john smiths. And for some reason, 70% of these Southenders were steaming around on mobility scooters. They were actually pulling up to the bar, parking up, jumping off and strolling to the toilet with ease. Yes people, Southend truly is Tower Hamlets by the sea. It's a shit hole.





Miss Kate Ford and I (she looks remarkably like the Pint Sized Snapper, who was spotted at the superhero convention) settled down outside a lovely pub called 'The Hope;' apparently an 18th Century Coach House, with as much charm as the Nelson Mandela Estate. I set up shop, hoping to spot the trendy amongst the crowds. There were no trendy people, there were no crowds. I remember as a kid, getting in the car for a day out by the beach. I thought it was brilliant. I would buy my bucket and spade, settle amongst the obese, shell suit wearing, mullet sporting Essex dwellers, and quite happily dig up the toxic waste and swim in the piss sodden sea.
I witnessed kids of this generation doing the same thing. Poor bastards.




Last year when I was bumming around the world, I stopped at a place in the middle of the desert called Las Vegas. Apparently stars such as Frank Sinatra, Elvis Presley and even Barry Manilow have graced the towering hotels along the strip. In Southend, I could imagine Bernard Manning, Jim Davidson and Rick Waller donning their Sunday best to wow the locals. They would love it.




This gentile looking fella was on the hard stuff at 9.30am. Sporting a greased back look, brown fleece, leather look coat and Rockports, he was the pick of the bunch outside the Hope Hotel. With trademark homemade tattoos and a distain for people who 'aren't from these parts'; the Willie Nelson look was attracting the toothless women cruising by on their scooters. A true Southender to the core.




I spotted this guy and his Mrs sitting outside the pub (can you see a pattern emerging here) I loved his clip on aviator style shades, his native American tee straining to cover his ale filled stomach, blue plastic bag, retro tattoos and week long stubble. Obviously gasping at 9.45am, a nice pint was just what the doctor ordered.

Now, I would never mock a human being for having a disability. It truly is a dreadful thing to live with. But I believe I have the right to question people who zoom around on their scooters, only to get up onto their feet to change up a tenner for the one arm bandit machine. Have I missed an advertisement along the way somewhere? Is Southend the place to migrate to when our legs let us down?

An amazing return to form here for this lovely looking lady. The 'number 1 wag' top was the best item of clothing I saw all day. Teamed with peroxide hair, with roots growing through, and a couple of kids in tow, this lady caught the eye. I actually did some digging and rumour has it she was spotted leaving Jermaine Defoe's flat in the early hours of last Saturday morning.

So this guy was my most stylish man of the day. Tracksuit bottoms, Velcro sandals with socks, an ill fitting Ben Sherman style shirt, 80s specs and baseball cap. I caught him loitering outside the pub. Majestic.

So, I think I may have to travel back towards London to spot the style conscious amongst us, because I think the people of Southend worry about other things. After all, the scooters don't run for free, the dental bills are a nightmare and the bar tabs are sky high. So, if you fancy sharing a toilet with a random on a night out, or sunbathing under a grey sky, or paying over the odds for a bag of doughnuts, Southend beats the South of France every time. Maybe I'm just a cockney snob, but give me the big smoke any day of the week.

So, after a spot of crazy golf, a go on the 'Rage' roller coaster, about 6 pints, a greasy hot dog and a deep fried doughnut, I thought it was time to jump back in the supervan and get back to Walthamstow. I was disappointed. Southend, you let me down, you let my readers down, you let Essex down, but most of all, you let yourselves down.

Next stop, Selbourne Walk, E17. Be scared.

Spare Change guv'ner?

The cool kids and the East End thrift store.

So I put my leg together with some duct tape, jumped on the Hammersmith and City line, had a pint at the Blind Beggar pub where a certain Ronnie Kray blew the brains out of a rival gangster for calling him a poof and hobbled to a cobbled passage where I thought young trendsetters may be grazing. Oh, and also to spend some of my dole money.

A free bar and a chance to rummage through cheap second hand clothes seems to attract the snappy dressers, and last night was no exception. The East End thrift store, just off Mile End Road, was awash with the style conscious, the retro fanciers and the forward thinkers. With a glass of wine in one hand and vintage pieces in the other, the London fashionistas had a chance to pick out a bargain for those long awaited summer days. Check out the guys I spotted as I scanned the rails.

Craig Holloway, a 28 year old tailor, described his look as "Classic English." Looking effortlessly stylish in denim shirt, tailored khaki shorts and espadrilles, teamed with cropped hair and groomed beard, Craig pulls off the 'just out of bed' look with ease. The perfect outfit for weaving in and out of that London traffic.

Luke Ferris, 24 year old manager of the East End thrift store, looked edgy in a classic Ralph Lauren shirt, cut off denim shorts and brown brogues. With his closely shaved back and sides with lip and nose piercings, Luke brought the 70s punk look into 2010. Describing his look as "Johnny Depp in Cry Baby meets dodgy Ralph Lauren," he mirrored the individuality of the Hollywood star.

I love this look. Gene Mcquillan, a 22 year old student, brought the country to the city. Tailored barber jacket, turned up drain pipe jeans and tan deck shoes transform the young lad into pipe smoking gentleman. A simple outfit, but none the less, stood him out from the trend setting crowd.

Simply teaming a red tee with skinny jeans, deck shoes and slanted hat, 25 year old photographer, Kris Myhre, shows us all how to pull off the perfect summer look. Add a distressed leather jacket, handlebar moustache and sailor tattoos, and you have a style hungry, human cannonball lookalike, perusing the thrift store rails.

Conor Fitzgerald, 17 years old, student.

This fresh faced youngster was doing it in soft leathered boots, cut off drain pipe chinos, vintage rock tee and worn denim jacket. Perfectly suiting his slim frame and adding class to a ruffian look, Conor could have stepped off a boyband stage. The swept red hair enhanced his individuality.

With grungy hair, battered boots and baggy grandad top, you could mistake Ed Parmer for an East End vagabond. However, the 18 year old student brings the chic to the hobo. The muted colours work perfectly with his happy disposition and I love how Ed brings confidence to such a dressed down look.

So, this is my mate, Mr Adam Mulhern, a 26 year old Red Bull rep. I thought I'd put him in here because he's got that Klaxon/Drums look going on at the moment. In double denim, which everyone loves (as long as they're contrasting colours) school plimsolls and vintage looking t-shirt, Mr Mulhern has that edgy 'boy next door' look, or as his Mrs calls it, "unclean and unironed." That's love for ya.

Tim Metcalf, 35 years old, lecturer.

I love the NHS specs, buttoned down shirt, old man's brogues and flannel trousers. I reckon Mr Metcalf looks trendier than most of his students. The one thing I hate about English society is that men don't dress like men anymore, but Tim brings back the 50s gentleman. I just wish lads would iron their trousers like him now and again.

So, I woke up this morning and the leg was fucked again, couldn't walk, tried, but couldn't. But when I'm up and running I'll be papping those stylish peeps out there. I might pop down to Walthamstow market or see what's happening in Loughton. So keep reading.

Spare change guv'ner?