Long Live Camden

The distressing news of England's series of riots, looting, and fires has torn apart a country and left some of it's greatest areas in rubble. After speaking with one of my dearest friends from the UK, she informed me that one of our favorite (or favourite) places to shop and hang out was in complete shambles: Camden High Street. Resembling a mix between the creepiness of the Venice boardwalk, and the quaint loveliness of London itself, Camden was a place to find cheap jewelry and fantastic vintage finds. Another merit of the area was that it was the only place a Southern Californian could go to get relatively good mexican food in the entire country. What follows are some snapshots of my times in Camden, and we can only hope after the destruction is finally over it will return to its former glory.

















Finally for your enjoyment, a club shot from our favorite Camden nights out!

Strawberry Field (Gates) Forever

After 100 years of use and over 40 years of admiration, the Liverpool branch of the Salvation Army has taken down the iconic gates of their orphanage Strawberry Fields. The Woolton suburb has been a pilgrimage for Beatles fans wanting to gaze upon the gorgeous wrought iron gates that inspired John Lennon to write the 1967 hit. While the charity has tried to reassure music lovers that they would be getting exact replica gates, sadly the timeless magic of the ruby red gates went into storage with the originals.


Following in the steps of every music mecca monument, 40 years of graffiti covers the mossy brick walls around the Victorian gates bringing an added element of ultimate community to the abandoned site. There is something incredibly special of seeing such brilliant red handiwork in the midst of the northern England climate and general color palette. It stood out as a beacon of hope for wayward children, and stands out as a burst of light in the dreary streets of working class Liverpool.


The Salvation Army made a statement that the gates were "worn-out" and were being taken to a "secret storage facility", but when I visited last February the gates in question seemed to be in pretty good shape for being over 100 years old. They were beautiful and sturdy as I ran my hands over the flowers and decorative swirls. It was iconic, original, and free to see.

What was incredibly emotional about actually being present at the Strawberry Fields gates was how silent and calm the scene was. Being alone with the silence of the misty overgrown facility grounds covered in beautiful shades of green was a moment that I will never forget. While I was surprised at how small the gates actually were compaired to the monstrous mental image I had, they were beautiful and unlike anything I had ever seen, or will ever see again.





It's sad to see the gates leave their original home for the dusty basement of some storage facility, but the legacy and memories will continue to live on through the photos and whimsy of the music.


(the music video was shot nowhere near the real Strawberry Fields, but it is still fun)

All of the images are my own from my trip to Northern England in 2010. Special thanks to Emma Walker for helping me find the gates!

Wedding Whimsy

I was never one of those people who pretended that I wasn't excited about the upcoming Royal nuptials. I love weddings. I love the Royal Family. I love the pomp and circumstance. I love the uplifting excitement of a whimsical day. I love that it was a UK Bank Holiday. People can naysay all they want, but I enjoyed every minute of it.

A Few Favorite Aspects

The music was just incredible. Prince Charles helped Kate pick out the hymns and it was just gorgeous including a beautiful rendition of the National Anthem "God Save The Queen" which Piers Morgan from CNN deemed able to "absolutely raise the roof of Britain". I don't know about all that, but it was magical. The bands were wonderful and the choir was just angelic.


Westminster Abbey was the perfect place for their wedding, but if we are honest, its not a very welcoming and inviting kind of building. The addition of the Birch Trees to the interior of the gallery just brought a new sense of life and magic to the traditional ceremony.


Normally I am pretty wary of veils on brides especially with the modern cuts of dresses, but paired with her gorgeous McQueen dress, Kate's sheer veil only added to her beauty and the mystery of the occasion. It complimented her body and her dress stunningly. With regards to the dress, I thought it was fantastic, but there was a wow factor that was missing. I'm not particularly a fan of Diana's dress, but it was clearly a dress fit for a princess.


The Beckhams. Best looking guests around. Enough said.


And last, but certainly not least, the adorable Queen of England herself. A vision in yellow!

And with all of the build up and all of the excitement, the day is over and done with. It really inspires me because even if Kate's life is a living hell for the rest of her life because she is a princess, at least today was a dream. A dream that she actually got to live.



Good Luck Will and Kate! Everyone pray for Harry.

Money Talks

One of my best friends from my year abroad in London has been spending the last week with me here in the Bay Area. While we have come to a mutual understanding about the differences between our foods, spelling, and even our vastly different pronunciations of words (b-A-sil vs BAH-zil, Huh-erb vs ER-b), her trip to America has proven to be more difficult with all the cultural barriers.

Earlier this afternoon while I was at work Kayleigh (said English friend) texted me something that I found very unusual:

How much is a dime worth?

As I sat there in my cubical thinking why ten cents of course!, I realized that the United States of America has the most selfish money in the world. Why would Kayleigh need to ask me how much a dime was? It's because there are NO numbers on the coins--front or back.




Here are a 10p coin and a dime next to each other to compare. What does this say about our cultures? Are Americans more obsessed with being an exclusive society with our coins and money? Do we gain anything from leaving off the number?

All I know is that I really appreciated the numbers on the British and European coins when I was travelling so I didn't look like an idiot at a store. That's my two cents (sorry) on the matter.

Everything in Brighton Made Sense

One of the little known gems about the English lifestyle is how much they appreciate their holidays. Whether it is for a weekend away, or a much longer vacation, time away from the grind is both a necessity and a luxury for all. With the presence of airlines like easyjet and the dreaded ryanair, British families and friends can now pop around all of Western Europe for less that 20 quid, but all of this accessibility has replaced the excitement and nostalgia for the beach towns of England.



In “When I’m Sixty-Four” Paul McCartney sings about renting a cottage in the Isle of Wight (if it’s not too dear) which might come as just another adorable line in an adorable song, but for most families in England the vacation to the seaside towns of Blackpool and the Isle of Wight were the most anticipated weeks of the year, hopefully with weather that can actually be considered warm by most human standards. At the top of the English beach paradise list is the southern town of Brighton.




I’d love to tell you that Brighton is known for its sandy beaches and warm waters, but that would only not be true, it wouldn’t even be plausible for a country so defined by cold and uncomfortable things (Sorry England, I love you but…c’mon). What makes Brighton so perfect is the fact that it doesn’t conform to any beach town we are familiar with today. Trapped in the architecture and style of the 1900’s, a trip to Brighton really is a holiday from real life just because you have no idea what time period you are in. Lightly painted pastel Victorian townhouses and duplexes line the spotless streets that once were filled with Vespas belonging to the hoards of mods in the late 60’s.



There is a sense of history and timelessness that comes with a walk on the Brighton Pier. Full of games and rides that make you forget how old you actually are, partnered with a view that makes you never want to go back to the busy streets of London, Brighton has a sense of cultural history that can’t be matched.






After attempting to put your feet in the icy water and walking over the unbearably painful rocks that is considered the “beach”, make sure not to miss the knick knack shops and chippies along the Brighton promenade. The Brits don’t believe in frozen yogurt which makes every soft serve ice cream that more delicious. While I am not a fan of fish, my friends told me that the fish and chips at the end of the pier were also incredibly tasty.





My personal favorite area of Brighton has to be the shops and streets around East Street which was notorious for being the “mod side of town” in the 1960’s. Now home to adorable cafes and bars, fashionable boutiques, and art galleries, this area of Brighton was immortalized by the 1979 film Quadrophenia by The Who (which just happens to be one of my favorite movies/albums).










If you are ever in London and want to get out of the same old routine of the tube, hop on a Southern Express train to Brighton and Hove. It's worth it.

(all photographs are taken by me except the quadrophenia shots)

A Love Letter To England

We’ve both moved on since last seeing each other, but I never forget the time we shared together. I sit here against the dark marble that has been perpetually heated by the sun looking out at the granite history of my state; the university that has stood since 1886, representing the hopes and abilities of California.
It has all the makings of a perfect sunset: the light, yet noticeable transition from lilac purple on my left to the brassy shades of blue still kissed by the sun to the right. There are even the flossy salmon strings of clouds that resemble more of an unraveled cotton ball instead of the traditional lumpy pile of mashed potatoes; soft and vibrant all at once. And while I can look out at the awe of my home (post LAUSD), I know that none of this light can compare to your piercing sky as the winter sun sets.
Believe me when I say that I completely realize that our push and pull relationship wasn’t always hopeful. The constant guessing games of what you had in store for me were more than slightly annoying. Our ongoing fight of light or dark grey will continue to frustrate me even though I am several thousand miles away. (I do also admit that you always did win with the fatalist argument of “grey is grey is grey”.) But I always knew that you cared for me, even through these trying months, with the bursts of kindness you would shower me with.
Yes, you did shower me a lot (probably too much), but nothing reminded me why I was with you quite like those 4pm sunsets. The grey wet that had so consistently become the defining characteristic of you and I left for the brief moment of shining love. Emerging onto the Strand and knowing that you did have a soft side as you waited for my time inside to end was the best feeling in the world. The golden hues from light cream to a deep and startling orange showed me that you did care. It was always the greatest “I’m sorry” that I could get each afternoon. Enveloping my body in a warmth and dryness that I always forgot was capable. Even with these perfect moments, we knew that our relationship, our closeness couldn’t last. And while I agree that it was all for the best, the memories of you still make me smile because of the secret knowledge we now share about one another.
So you can keep your falling snow and open addiction to liquor, as I cling undyingly to my constant years of drought and smug control of the entertainment industry, but we both know the transformation that the past year made on both of us. I love my home, but the sunsets over Doe aren’t exactly worth the extra blocks walked to Charring Cross tube station just to experience yours for a few more moments before going under.

Always with love and admiration,

Bailey