WTF???? hello has stolen my exclusive!

erm, you could have, like given me credit dudes.

rehab is short for rehabilitation, you know

KATE MOSS has been admitted to an exclusive, members only top secret rehabilitation centre in the Arizona desert, it emerged today.

our source has disclosed that the centre is a bizarre home presided over by a group of matronly professional mothers recruited from across the globe.
'what kate clearly needs right now is a whole lot of mothering,' said the source, 'it's going to be like that lazy period between christmas and new year when you can't leave the house cos it's too cold and you're too fat, but she'll have all the time she needs.'

allegedly moss will be looked after by a crack team of hardline mothers, each trained in a specific motherly skill. according to our source, a programme has been tailor made for the famous clothes hanger and rock hanger-on. therapies used INCLUDE:
- no nonsense boy advice from a top notch jewish mom
- food for the soul from an indian mother
- cups of tea made to order by pleasant and well-mannered english mum

'sometimes all you need is a bit of hair-stroking, sitting on the sofa in your pjs and crap tv to knock you into shape and remind you that you'd rather be living your life than being nagged at by your mum. i give kate a week.'

THE story of 2005... WHO SHOT KM?

the truth is out (so there):
smalltownflirt has got its mitts on a top secret report which suggests that a conspiracy is at the bottom (nostrils) of this week's painstakingly plotted demolition of pedastal-based fashion goddess and all-round icon kate moss.

the leaked memo suggests that the mole behind the Cocaine Kate video is in fact one of arch rival Sienna Miller's people, planted in order to obtain the damning drugs footage, thereby ousting Moss and placing Miller firmly at the top of the tabloids' style chart. spies at chanel and h&m's respective headquarters inform us that both companies already have sienna's portfolio on file and her number set on speed dial.

'over the summer months Miller's team has been exposed as both cunning and ruthless,' commented evil pr genius maximus clifford yesterday, 'their work, particularly on the Judas-Nanny farce was nothing short of ground-breaking. they will teach this campaign in pr school.'

'Sienna (who is 23), with temperance, youth and talent quite clearly on her side, is part of a group which is obviously being groomed to replace the much-maligned and rather bored primose hill set,' confirmed our source, 'she's mates with Keira, Orlando... who wants Hampstead when you can have Hollywood?'

Lovelife Angel Music Baby

boy: hi
me: hi!
boy: have you got any gwen stefani? i think the ladies might want to hear some gwen stefani.
me: yes, what do you want to hear?
boy: anything.

a few songs later

girl: hi
me: hi!
girl: gwen stefani.
me: yes?
girl: will you play gwen stefani?
me: which song?
girl: any!
me: i will play her next.

a few songs later

girl: hi
me: hi!
girl: can you play some gwen stefani?
me: i am playing gwen stefani.
girl: can you play a single?
me: this is a single.
girl: can you play the one that goes 'tick tock, tick tock'?
me: yes.

'enjoying' larry tee at benicassim 05

kidz070805,
originally uploaded by small town flirt.

david: our all time favourite hotshot

now online...

the rain in spain...

i've just finished my benicassim review for the plan b website. imagine it fitting nicely around additional reportage by olav and robin. here's the draft...

FRIDAY 5 AGOSTO
Shadowy figures cover the mountain that overlooks the dusty arena. From the slopes they will have a perfect view of Benicassim’s main stage and the main attraction at tonight’s circus. Middle aged, middle of the road and top of the bill, The Cure drizzle onto the stage with a miserable new song. We are not amused, but then what did we expect? Astoundingly (yes, astoundingly) The Cure have thousands of fans in the audience tonight. Surely the Spanish, living in their sun-drenched Almodovarian land populated with raven-haired pin-ups have no right to be daylight eschewing badly made-up Goths? And wasn't I meant to be seeing Peaches anyway?
Back to the 00s Part I: Peaches might have been peddling the same show and album for the past two years but by now she’s got it to perfection. We loved Peaches when she was all pink PVC hot pants, cerise satin brassiere and fake blood. We adore her with costume changes, a fake Iggy Pop, dance routines and boy stage-slave who watches her every move as she climbs the rigging and crawls across the stage.

Don’t get me started on DJs. At some point over the weekend I begin to seriously ponder proposing a ban on lazy record-spinners pulling out ‘Blue Monday’ and expecting people to dance. I kick myself softly with a beflipflopped toe when I find myself waiting, listening with renewed urgency, because maybe – who knows? – this might be a New Remix of ‘Blue Monday’. What does it mean when you’re more intrigued at this possibility than anything else the DJ has to play? Oi Glimmers! Turn the lights off on your way out.

SATURDAY RAVEonettes (Main Stage), Xiu Xiu (Club), Ladytron (Moto), Larry Tee (Moto)
The Raveonettes – idea: are they part of some kind of EU initiative to give the Danes a chance on the international indie rock scene?

There’s no room at a festival funded by litre buckets of beer for a duo like Xiu Xiu. The end of their set is drowned out by the music filtering through from the fashion show in the tent next door. Multimedia in action.

Back to the 00s Part II: Ah, back to the early 00s again: it is safe here. Yes, Ladytron are still robots, and yes they’re still having a ‘who looks more bored’ competition with the audience, which I won. ‘Blue Jeans’ and ‘Seventeen’, however, have entered the electropop canon and remain classics.

Back to the 00s Part III: God bless Larry Tee – electroclash originator and general man about town, he’s the bald, old, NY version of Erol Alkan without the indie. Ok, he’s not like Erol at all, but since I missed the Trash man’s set this morning, Mr Tee will have to do. Predictably, Larry mixes (mostly on CDs – but, hey, I’m no purist) ‘Mr Brightside’ (Thin White Duke remix), ‘Kinda New’ (Tiefschwartz remix), ‘Washing Machine’ (Tiga remix) and probably ‘Blue Monday’, by which time I’m too caught up to care. We are stage front and loving it. Electroclash is Dead: Long Live Electroclash.

SUNDAY Hot Hot Heat, Rosin, Mylo, Panico
Hot Hot Heat think they can get away with playing jolly self-harm romp ‘Bandages’ about five minutes into the set, but they can’t because I’ve already left to check out Roisin...

Roisin Murphy is My New Project. Anglo-Irish and riddled with unknowable demons, she is utterly sophisticated and suggestively unhinged at the same time. Her voice is a haunting, Celtic lilt which backed by a full band is utterly compelling. I’m not one for all that jazz – Matthew Herbert (her producer) is so not my thing, but her set is worth the coffee table interludes for ‘Sow into You’ alone. I want to grow up immediately and furnish a living room. Her album, ‘Ruby Blue’ is about realising where home is and right now it’s on this stage.

My oh Mylo, where have you been? We dig out our fans and bat the warm air impatiently. He is late, but as soon as 'Destroy Rock'n'Roll's familiar opening speech sounds out we sre all damned to pop hell. Mylo, for any haters out there is a thrilling live proposition and far too much fun to be enjoyed with your clothes on - it’s too hot, darling.

Sometime later…
In a little green tent with uneven floors something very exciting is happening. I am falling in Summer Love. I can’t remember who directed me here, but I’m ever so grateful. I think to myself, What could be better than a Spanish punk funk band? Panico are not Spanish, they’re from Chile via Paris, which is even better and after just one song they’re my new favourite band. What can I say? I’m easy.

our lovelife never dies

token girl and dj lex (poptimism/forget about the sugar) return to the pink bar at 93 feet east for a night of (end of)summercore: washing up, that tribulations remix, kanye, missy, fake madonna album leaks, the killers (again), the grates (again), random bpitch oddities, edgytronica, diet grrrl, hip-pop, electrofash, pink noize, frock...

tuesday 20th september: after work til after dark
(it's just a phase you're going through)

5 songs i'm liking - 1 week late

1. golddigger - kanye west
2. nobody move, nobody get hurt - we are scientists
3. you gonna want me - tiga
4. shut up - lil'kim
5. message - the grates

for mr olav.

admission: i have seen that documentary...

pamflet party - exclusive fotos here!

by ariste extraordinaire mimi...

hey annie

i met annie mac for a coffee today to chat about her dj career and radio one show for a website interview. she's not only a super talented dj with fascinatingly eclectic tastes, but she bubbles over with enthusiasm about the wonderful world of music in a totally infectious fashion... i'll put it up here when it's done!

thanks/grazia

when grazia launched i was as cynical as ever about what purpose ANOTHER glossy mag could serve in a market saturated with rags peddling the same merchandise, the same trends, the same faces and the same stories written by the same people who've been propping up emap/ipc/natmags for the past two decades.

since then they've splashed with exclusive after exclusive, the most sensational (because it happened, not cos it actually was sensational) of which was madonna's only UK magazine interview to promote her latest children's book in june. this week brought another exclusive UK-only interview with another style icon - the inimitable, acronym-only SJP. so far i can't help but like grazia - and judging from their abcs i'm not the only one.

being a weekly, they're obliged to mix the kind of content which is a staple of the traditional monthly - expensive fashion shoots, in depth designer profiles etc with having a go at current affairs and 'real-life' stories. this week it was the news section that bothered me. they could hardly ignore the past week's events in america, but their coverage was somehow inappropriate. it's hard for any magazine of this nature to deal with serious current affairs and it's brave if slightly pretentious of them to even try. they chose to illustrate the news with the now familiar photograph of a group of five or six new orleanos carrying armfuls of sportswear and boxes of sneakers from a clothes shop spectacularly spread across two pages.

in a magazine that gleefully promotes wanton object-lust after everything you can never have(key cover line 'you can't live this week without a pink cropped gap blazer!!!'), why choose to illustrate a serious story with such an ambiguous photograph as this? i AM NOT disgusted by the stealing/surviving/interpret as you wish. i WAS disgusted to read in the first days after the flood that walmart, by my rough estimates the richest retailer IN THE WORLD was donating $2million (yes dollars) to the recovery operation. gives a whole new meaning to bargain hunting.

speechless

thank you all!more to follow

Pamflet lives! Long live Pamflet

six years in the imagining...
We are delighted to announce the publication of


PAMFLET:
A vindication of the rights of girl.

September 2005 Issue 1 Volume 1


Pamflet is called ‘pamflet’ for three reasons:
1) It is a pamphlet.
2) Its creators’ initials spell ‘pamf’, so we added the ‘let’ bit on and it looked good.
3) Pamphlets were the eighteenth and nineteenth century literati’s medium of choice for starting feuds, slandering rivals, spreading gossip and ranting about everything from politics to literature. That’s what we want to do too, so it makes sense.

With the publication of the debut issue of Pamflet, Anna-Marie and Phoebe follow in the footsteps of a long line of bluestockings, counting Aphra Behn, Mary Wortley Montague, Mary Wollstonecraft, Mary Shelley, Jane Austen, the Brontës, Emily Dickinson, Virginia Woolf, Sylvia Plath, Margaret Atwood and Helen Fielding among their esteemed predecessors.

Pamflet is a culmination of a girlhood gilted with fierce magazine-mauling, journal-writing, letter-scribbling, email-keying, scrapbook-keeping, book-devouring, indie-loving, outfit-styling and culture snack-consuming. Reactionary, impatient and agitated yet visionary, informed and impassioned: so begins a vindication of the rights of girl.

Pamflet editrixes Anna-Marie Fitzgerald and Phoebe Frangoul are from suburban London but now locate themselves on the fringes of a twenty-something world that doesn't actually exist. This is the first of a series of pamphlets that will establish them as the first truly original dissenting voices of the generation which calls itself the first women of the twenty-first century.


Copies of Pamflet are now available for your perusal.
Send your requests and questions to the editrixes at pamflet at gmail dot com