Hoxton

I have already become attached to this quirky area of town in which I am living. Whenever people ask where I am living, the response I give them in 'Hoxton' (not Hackney, Shoreditch or Islington).

To this I get a response of, ooo, trendy. I find this simply bizarre. Not because I misunderstand why people consider this area to be trendy, it is simple to see. Banksy has paid a visit (shouldn't we feel grateful) and we share a postcode with the beautiful people wearing Christian Louboutin shoes in swanky Islington offices.



But really, Hoxton is Hackney. It's a bit scary at night, and most of the population lives in high rise blocks that don't have proper addresses. It is the side of London tourists don't really see. Capitalism at its absolute nexus - the best and the worst.

This is what I find most upsetting but also captivating about London - everything is a flipside. London is a rich city, so rich, sickeningly rich - too rich. Walk down to Liverpool Street, just ten minutes from here, and people bathe in money. They have tailors, 'City of London' parking permits and twenty minute haircuts in your lunch hour for £60.

Walk outside that tightly controlled, marble, clinical area and the money evaporates. There are so many homeless people. More homeless people than you can even bear to think about. There is one that sits just outside the door of Somerfield by Old Street tube. I have come out of that shop so many times with a bag of food and he just sits there.

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If I'm going to advertise anything, it would be the George and Vulture pub. An Aussie behind the bar, six pound pizzas (a bit salty but let's not be foodies about this) and a really old quaint globe in the corner just waiting to drop off its hinges.



I made a visit to London Fashion Weekend about a month ago. I simply must complain about the 'presenter' that was there to bridge the gap between the fee paying public and the fashion folk. She was awful. I detest the phrase 'love it'. She loved everything.