Let’s ruin your garden this summer!

SBP Brickwork and Plastering

With weather this glorious, you just can’t stay indoors! It’s simply criminal (especially when you live in a block of flats like I do). And from what I hear, everyone else had the same idea this weekend. Apparently bars in Finsbury Park were closing their doors as they were simply too overwhelmed with bodies in flip flops and Bermuda shorts to cope (or am I having flashbacks from the early 90s? Do people still wear Bermuda shorts?).

After stumbling upon a leaflet that said ‘make our back garden yours’, I decided to do just that and visit the garden in question. I flailed around in the long grass, had an ice lolly whilst watching the clouds sail by and christened almost all of their benches with my big behind.

Now I don’t know if you’re the sort to go round visiting the gardens of stately homes but I am. I can’t get…

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John Lennon holding your shirt together.

Harvey and Quinn Jewellery

The gorgeous girlies (in their quest for world button domination) have done it again! Yes that’s right, they have sourced the corpse of John Lennon and made lots of little tiny buttons out of his bones. What better way to sell a bit of jewellery than to make it out of one of the Beatles. (Or more likely, I misread an email somewhere and filled in the blanks with my own warped imagination).

Rachel and Lucy have a range of jewellery which is becoming increasingly popular and it could still be accredited to the fact it’s tenuously linked to the 60s version of Take That. Yes the humble beetle. Why does it seem to be a winning name to give anything? Everything from back in the day bands to cute VW cars. Even the juice of this infamous creature seems to have helped Winona Ryder and Micheal Keaton’s careers a little.

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Playing dress up and fiercely accessorising

Harvey and Quinn Jewellery

If we try to think of our first encounter with jewellery, I’m sure it would take us back to the wonder and mystery of mummy’s dressing table (or daddy’s if your daddy was that way inclined, I’m not judging). Going through little boxes rammed full of shiny things, shapes and colours and jewels to suit any style. Little creations taken from the world around us. Those little boxes felt like newly discovered treasure when I was a kid. And I’m not ashamed to say I still feel that way now about jewellery. The tactile nature of little beautiful extravagant things never seems to ware off. I think that’s why women are notoriously addicted to bling.

This feeling is ignited whenever I see a new jewellery item on the Harvey and Quinn website. Looking on their website for me (and their other followers) is like window shopping at Tiffany’s. The experience and…

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Hideous: this seasons new black.

Some days I wake up and it feels like the world is just on a wonk. Some days you wake up and it feels like everything’s a bit bonkers, a bit surreal and I feel like I’m in a strange dream world. I must admit it happens to me often and I like to blame the chemicals they must be secretly putting in my Philadelphia extra light in order to make it so low in fat.

I don’t mind about the history of accessorising and the deeper reasons and psychology behind it but I kind of just assumed that it had something to do with accentuate a persons beauty, status or even to express aspects of their personality. I was happy with that fact and everything I’ve witnessed so far seemed to confirm this notion. Until this one fateful day (which was actually yesterday) when I walked past what I thought was a woman with a disfigured face. I had the usual pang of sympathy, guilt ridden interest and inexplicable anger towards what could have made her this way.

Before I could overt my gaze respectfully (horrified that she might think I was staring at her), she looked me right in the eye and smiled. Beaming all through herself as she looked back at me, I struggled to figure out why she was smiling at me. Did I know her? Was she mocking me? Did I have something on my face? And it very quickly began to dawn on me that her face wasnt actually disfigured, she just had something snagged between her lip and her eyebrow. Like a very thin piece of gold somehow hooked onto the end of her eyebrow and down onto the edge of her lip. Before I knew what was happening the words had left my mouth “what’s that on your face?”. As a teenager having my nose pierced I loathed people who made those kinds of comments in reference to body jewellery and now, low and behold, I have become one! My first thought was one of sheer panic, how had I become so conservative? Had I always been such a square and just didn’t realise it? Or had the world simply moved on in hip-ness leaving me behind? But then I realised she was speaking and felt strangely compelled to listen.


So it transpires that there is a new wave of body jewellery that challenges the perception of traditional beauty and how accessorising well can enhance that.   Now I’m all for blowing up outdated modes of thinking and moving forward into an all-encompassing utopia where beauty shines from within and people are appreciated for their peanut and not their shell. But would I actually wear something that distorted the shape of my face? I wouldn’t, of course I wouldn’t but plenty would and that’s when it dawned on me that people in their millions sign up for this sort of thing every day. Willingly paying through the nose to mutilate themselves in the name of beauty. Nips here, tucks there, till what is left is the Frankenstein monster of our nightmares and not the ‘Weird Science’ style goddess of our dreams.

Not that I’m judging anyone for having cosmetic surgery, I understand it’s a personal choice and that there are many reasons for them doing this, it’s just that sometimes it can go wrong and sometimes the result isn’t what the victim (er sorry, I mean the patient) intended. In the face of permanent bodily or facial adjustments, this jewellery doesn’t seem so bad. It can be removed and I guess ultimately it does make a statement, which fashion in general does strive to do.

The Button Birds

Harvey and Quinn Jewellery


 Buttons: they’re everywhere. They can’t be denied. Most spend their days laboring lovingly to hold one side of your clothes to the other, whilst others hide shyly in a drawer somewhere waiting to be re-discovered.  If buttons were a currency, we’d all have a fair few bob knocking about the place that’s for sure. But who really cares about buttons? Who really gives them a second thought? Old ladies who imprison them in Quality Street tins under their sinks? Charity shop managers? Children learning crafts or building snowmen? Right though these answers may be, the people who really care about buttons are Rachel Harvey and Lucy Quinn. They are building an empire on their love of buttons and they wont stop till they have us all looking at buttons in a very different way!


 When Rachel Harvey met Lucy Quinn (other than having recognized her immediately as a fellow lunatic), they discovered their mutual…

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