Indulgent Saturdays

Life has become quite hectic since the beginning of term. Between uni and holding down two jobs it feels as if I've always got somewhere to be. It then becomes necessary to take time out to just wander around, without having a direction or final destination, allowing the day to take you where it may. Last Saturday I had a day off and decided to indulge in some of my favourite past times.

One of the best places to get lost in Brighton is Duke's at Komedia. In order to satisfy my fascination with the cinema fully I decided to make two visits. Whoever said everything in moderation clearly never tested the waters of excess (the grass is always greener after all). The cinema never fails to leave me with a feeling of calm. The sense of unity that occurs by being in a darkened room filled with strangers all sharing in the same experience is unrivalled elsewhere. 

The middle of the day tends to be the best time to go to the cinema. Between 11 and 12 the seats are barely filled meaning you're spoilt for choice on where to sit. On this particular day I decided to take the back row, leaving me as the only person in the last 5. The final line of sofas became my home and I settled in feeling more welcome than I do in most other places. Chai latte and maple pecan in hand, I smiled at the knowledge that I am definitely my mother's daughter. When I feel separated from her by distance I find that lone cinema trips are the perfect way to feel that connection reestablished. I imagine her at my age, sat in a cinema not so unlike the one I find myself in, my own position reflected in her content solitude with only a coffee for companionship. I think it's possible that I become more like her every day. 

Following the film I met my friend Beth and the two of us decided to go for lunch. Wandering through the lanes on a Saturday is always a pleasant thing to do. The roads become lined with tables and chairs. An absence of cars, and the floods of people being forced to move with leisure, gives the impression that this is a time to take things at a slower pace. One of those Autumnal days that is both crisp and light met me upon exiting the darkened walls of the screen. Eyes adjusted, I perched at a table amongst the pattern of seated bodies and waited for Beth's arrival. We then sat for a few minutes before picking up and making our way towards Silo, a new zero waste cafe and the first of its kind in the UK. A lunch that consisted of a creamy latte and even creamier risotto left us filled to bursting. Time then for a stroll around the city, conversing all the way.

Amaretto coffees at Beth's followed and then a visit to another friend's house for dinner. The nice thing about being in our second year of university is that everyone has their own homes. Little houses decorated with individual expressions of their residents, it sometimes feels nearer to young children playing house. The excitement at being invited over for a meal still resembles going over for a play date in primary school. Themes of relaxation continued as I was presented with a spread of food and no need to lift a finger. Early evening was consumed by records. Blood on the Tracks transported me back to my flat in London. Sat on the carpet while my mum makes dinner in the kitchen, smells of comfort wafting in through the open plan room adjacent to my small frame. I'm met by the great wonder of memory, and the ability for a sound to knock you back a decade, consumed by the comfort of another time. 

A night walk home was accompanied by Bobby Womack and affectionate thoughts for the city underfoot. Brighton is now bound up in so many positive things, it's difficult not to walk around with a smile on my face. The light breeze that cast its way through my loose curls made the lamppost lit pavements all the sweeter. As one sleepy haze fell over the houses and a further transcended, awaking ready to embrace the coming hours, I prepared to end my day in much the same way it began. In great Groundhog Day style a darkened path was taken back to the depths of Komedia. A Saturday spent making up for the hectic week ahead and a realisation for the necessity of time spent alone as much as in the company of loved ones.

Silo

Not many restaurants come with a mission statement, but then Silo isn't just any restaurant. Dubbed the UK's first zero-waste cafe, the idea is in the title. The crux of founder Douglas McMaster's intention? To serve locally sourced and ethically grown food, without generating waste. When people hear the term zero-waste often it leaves notions of rotting food and empty stomachs, but that couldn't be further from the truth. The experience Silo offers manages to be both sophisticated and relaxed, with an approachable and open attitude to accompany the exceptionally presented dishes. 

Upon arriving at the restaurant we were promptly seated by one of the two friendly waitresses. The nice thing about Silo is they make you feel as if you are the most important person in the place. Complimentary cucumber water and homemade bread had as rubbing our eyes in disbelief. If you've never tried cucumber water let me tell you now, there's something about adding those little green slices that sends things spiralling down a path you're bound to get hooked on. All of the drinks are served in jam jars, which though some have claimed is now fairly niche, added a personal touch that sits well among the hand written chalk board menus. There is an impression that great effort has been put into each minute detail. That's before even mentioning the bread, which is homemade on site using their very own flour mill. You can tell from the taste - closer to eating a malt loaf, with a rich spongy texture and beautifully churned butter on the side. We'd already been made to feel fully satisfied before even receiving our food. 

The menu at Silo is simple. Four key aspects mean that you're not spoilt for choice, but what this means is that each meal is meticulously crafted with great consideration. A wide choice of juices (and the creamiest latte I've ever come across) as an accompaniment mean there's still room for variation on each visit. Being able to watch the chefs make the food in front of you is also a welcome treat. Cooking to this standard is a craft, the presentation becoming more of an art form than an afterthought. 

Continuing the individuality of the experience, our food was brought to us by Douglas himself, head chef and owner of Silo, who then proceeded to explain the idea behind the dishes. I went for the risotto, the method of which I was talked through swiftly. I discovered that the brown rice was cooked much in the same way as normal risotto, until the last moment when a paste was added, giving it extra flavour. The cheese was homemade using the leftover milk from the coffee machine, while the mushrooms were grown in the restaurant (displayed in full sight in the other room for the more curious of diners like myself) from the excess coffee grounds. The risotto was the richest I have come across, containing just the right amount of flavour to leave my taste buds quite literally tingling. The juices were happily mopped up by the bread, leaving no trace at all. The quality of the food itself could make claims for there being zero-waste, but in the unlikely situation that there is leftover food it is all made into compost and gifted out to local farmers and friends. I entered into silo expecting to leave with a clear conscience at the least and was met with an experience unlike any I have found before when dining out. The care that is found at every turn means that customers will come back time and time again. This really should be the future of eating out, for it makes all the other establishments appear decidedly in the dark ages. 

The Labour of Love

I spend a lot of time deliberating over the ideal writing conditions. In my mind, I am sat in a little cafe in Paris, espresso by my side, scribbling notes by hand as an assortment of interesting people saunter past (this particular imagining features Dali emerging with his anteater by his side). The reality continues to fall short of this. Though I have scoured the many cafes of Brighton for a little corner of my own I always reach the same pattern of feeling I have outstayed my welcome. There are other factors too of course. Having the perfect chair (an old leather one that makes me appear tiny and fragile in comparison, ready to be swallowed by its aged canvas), having the ideal chai latte, good lighting, and enough privacy to remain anonymous in order to not be disturbed. Brighton offers an array of cafes, the most part of which I have quickly learnt to love. There is the Blackbird tea rooms, with its eclectic walls that reflect my grandma’s house; Marwood cafe and its decoration of model spaceships providing an always desirable extra terrestrial vibe; and the more recently discovered Brighton Museum & Art Gallery Cafe that sits on a balcony overlooking the museum, dwarfing the people below into miniatures to be captured on the fresh pages. The latter is a place that I may well feel at home but the truth of it remains.


In actuality, the places that I write are often randomly selected by a spurt of inspiration. Currently I am churning out words, slumped in my housemate’s bed while he listens to Bill Murray singing Christmas songs and tirelessly repeats the same phrase of ‘can we go and watch a film now please?’ Other favourites include the hour train ride from Brighton to London, crouched over my phone while frantically drumming my fingers on the screen in order to fill the yellow notes. Then there’s my front room back in London as my mum attempts to talk to me, only to be answered with sharp grunts that indicate I am otherwise occupied. It is from her that I recently discovered an article detailing the daily routines of writers. The thing that stuck with me was a quote from E.B. White — ‘A writer who waits for ideal conditions under which to work will die without putting a word on paper.’ After spending the day talking about the difficulty of motivating oneself to write, a discussion that I seem to have time and time again, the answer seems painfully simple. Write. Write anywhere, anytime, anyhow. Don’t think about it - just do it. If I spent less time deliberating over the logistics of my work, and whether I even have the ability do it, and more time just getting on with it the plague of blank pages may finally cease to exist. 

"Starting tomorrow — if not today:

I will get up every morning no later than eight. (Can break this rule once a week.)

I will have lunch only with Roger [Straus]. (‘No, I don’t go out for lunch.’ Can break this rule once every two weeks.)

I will write in the Notebook every day. (Model: Lichtenberg’s Waste Books.)

I will tell people not to call in the morning, or not answer the phone.

I will try to confine my reading to the evening. (I read too much — as an escape from writing.)

I will answer letters once a week. (Friday? — I have to go to the hospital anyway.)"

-From Susan Sontag's diary, 1977

Amore e Piombo

Amore e Piombo: the photography of extremes in the 1970s. Translated - the love and lead - a title that encapsulates the juxtaposition of freedom and violence displayed in the collection of photos from 1970s Italy. A time characterised by upheaval, with revolt against the communist regime combined with a refusal of 'traditional' values in favour of the sexual liberation that has become so widely associated with the time period. The black and white images provide a stark glimpse of a much wider scene. The glamour of movie stars, the explicit destruction of explosions, the more subtle threat of exposed pistols, and the countless photographs of politicians at work reveal a surface which is impenetrable in its secrecy. If anything, what proves most interesting are the questions it raises 40 years on about the appearance of our own world. Captured in images that will remain unchanged by time, what will future generations infer from the many photos of the present day? 

The curation of the exhibition itself compliments the impact of the photographs. Cabinets lined with portraits give a sense of an archive of work, placing historicity at the forefront of discussion. Documentation of Aldo Moro's assassination lines the floor on blocks that hinder the pathway of the viewer, perhaps reflecting the nature of violence to act as an obstruction within life. The words of Moro's family loom in the background - 'As to Aldo Moro's life and death, let history judge.' And so it will.

Amore e Piombo is at Brighton Museum & Art Gallery until 2nd November. The exhibition stands as another of the many great free things to do in Brighton. It works as part of the wider Brighton Photo Biennial - the UK's largest photography festival. With 19 exhibitions and more than 50 events it leaves a lot to explore as the days grow increasingly colder. 

Hunt and Darton Cafe

Prior to visiting Hunt and Darton cafe I was unsure what to expect. Described as a social and artistic hub where engagement, spontaneity, action, artists and performance meet great food and drink; the award winning pop up is in Brighton for this years Sick festival.

Entering into the shop in the heart of a very sunny Brighton, we are greeted by an incredibly smiley waitress with a floret of broccoli on her head, ensuring us that this will be a lunch on the more unusual side. With a menu that resembles afternoon tea crossed with a children's party. From crumpets and nesquick, to the decidedly more peculiar roast dinner sandwich, this isn't a place for the cynical. Yet, arriving on social media day and being told we have to tweet out orders ensures we are engaged from the offset. I order the trio of finger sandwiches, which is displayed to me in a structure resembling a tower. I am informed that the first layer of cream cheese and cucumber is my starter, the second of salmon is my main course, and the third of sugar is my dessert. Though I had never before been subject to the wonders of the sugar sandwich, it turns out the invention speaks of simple pleasures and I was left feeling satisfied, if not a little anxious for more.

From the presentation of the food to a continuous conversation with the waitress via the Internet, the detail put into the entire experience is clear. Half way through the meal my friend receives a tweet instructing her to come inside and change the record on the old vinyl player, which leads to the feeling of having our own input into the walls of the cafe. When asked of the inspiration behind the project, the waitress tells us (or more accurately, tweets us), 'we wanted to create an instillation to perform within and being into food we thought what better than a cafe!'

Causing passersby to stop in their tracks with curiosity, there is no doubt that the cafe is out of the ordinary. Although the portions are not vast, upon telling them of this my friend is given a pound of her money back, indicating a level of care that is rarely seen. The shop is around until the 29th. With a theme that alters daily, and a fake Christmas dinner on the 26th, there is no doubt that Hunt and Darton is worth a visit. If only to marvel at the peculiar interior and dissever how your lunch can be transformed into an interactive experience that won't easily be forgotten.

Once You Go Drag You Never Go Back 

 Bearing witness to a Drag performance for the first time is as if you have been opened to a whole new world that is more fabulous than anything you have previously known. Tuesday night saw us stray away from our usual haunt of the local bar and head to one of my personal favourite corners of Brighton - The Blind Tiger Club. This time however, the bar had been inhabited by something beyond the usual frequenters. A take over by the unrelentingly fierce likes of The House of Grand Parade had us subject to something we could previously not have dreamt of. 

Described as an alternative performance platform based in Brighton widening the horizons of drag, burlesque, magic and other notable cabaret/circus performance styles - we found ourselves amidst an array of feathers, glitter and down right gorgeous ladies with moves that left us not only envious but simply in awe. 

What this group offer is something far above a performance - the atmosphere they create is entirely infectious and I found that even the most reserved of friends became overcome with a level of sass that I would never come across out in the everyday world. Yet, after leaving this remained with us, leaving us with an air of confidence that seemed alien prior to entering through those doors. Half way through the show, the wonderful Rubyyy Jones asked a member of the audience what was up with him, and receiving the reply 'I'm just so happy!' seemed to epitomise the kind of cohesive experience that the night projects. You better be damn straight that once you go drag you never go back - and none of us would have it any other way.

Do You Like Good Music?

Every time I hear Arthur Conley's Sweet Soul Music it makes me want to jump up and dance, and so I find myself constantly questioning why there is such an absence of good 50s and 60s nights in my life. That hope to be transported back in time and immersed in feel good music, that will undoubtedly wash away any signs of stress, remains hopelessly unfulfilled. That is until I discovered the miraculous world of Itchy Feet.

After a Friday that was spent under a pile of books and pretty much chained to a library desk it was a welcome relief to put on my dancing shoes and escape the shackles of academia. The evening appropriately begun with a swing dance lesson. After enviously admiring every swing dancer I laid eyes on I decided it was time to learn some moves myself, and after my first class I am certainly glad to have finally taken the plunge. It seems there is no better cure for a long day than dancing it away.

Following the lesson, it was time to get dressed up and head down to The Haunt to put our steps into practice. Usually the home of student nights, it was a pleasant surprise to find ourselves met with an array of braces and rockabilly dresses. Even better was the lovely member of the Itchy Feet crew who took to the stage to teach us some moves - that is until the stage got far too packed with eager dancers to allow her to do so.

A night ensued that involved spinning around the dance floor in my full skirt and feeling like I had been transported into the high school dance in Grease. It is not a common fate for me to feel comfortable enough that I will lose all my inhibitions but here I found myself jumping around without a care in the world, until I was reluctantly told it was time to leave. From The Rolling Stones, to Curtis Mayfield and Aretha Franklin - the whole night was like music to my ears. Plus you can imagine my elation when Conley began to resonate on the speakers, both stealing my heart and causing me to make a solemn vow to remain lost in the 60s forever.

Jungle Is Massive

I find that it is easy to forget just how much jungle music has the ability to lift your spirits, that is until you find yourself on a night where you can allow the music to run over you. In a second it seems every care is washed away and all you are left with is a night that is nothing but smile inducing. 

Last Saturday I attended Congo Natty and Run Tingz at Concorde 2. Having spent the previous night at the venue I was overcome with initial apprehensions at returning for the second day in a row, but all that was instantly dispelled upon hearing the genius mixing of the great Congo Natty. Upon entering through the doors I was instantly enchanted by sounds of Bob Marley pulsating through the walls - if there is anything else more calming than a room full of people singing and dancing to reggae music I am yet to find it. 

With a transformation into bass filled jungle music, a night of non stop dancing ensued. Despite having had a heavy night the day before, my feet refused to give out and we ended up staying right until the end. Not only a sweet night in itself, I found myself getting increasingly excited about the promise of Outlook festival later this year. Set in an abandoned fort in Croatia, the festival has already released a stellar lineup of bass music which seeks to fulfil all my musical needs - from hip hop and reggae through to jungle and drum and bass. For the time being though, I am relying on Concorde 2 to pander to all my bass cravings and somehow I don't think I'm going to be disappointed.

Knowledge - The Dissemination of Information
Living in Brighton there is always something going on and it can often start to feel like you constantly have somewhere to get to. Stumbling upon a little alcove that you can get entirely lost in may sound like a common fate but I find that it is less common to feel you have been completely removed from your surroundings. That's why coming across Knowledge - The Dissemination of Information was such a welcome surprise. 

Located on North Street, the shop offers a creative space which houses the work of around 35 artists. With an array of handmade trinkets, from jewellery and clothing to the slightly more obscure such as a spectacular sceptre adorned with carefully placed butterflies inside - a trip inside the shop ended up feeling as if I'd stepped into a Steampunk dream. While only intending to pass through, I found it difficult to draw myself away. Here is a place that entirely halted the feeling that I had somewhere to be in order to allow me to fully immerse myself in my surroundings. 

Though the array of art may be a reason to visit this little haven, it certainly is not the sole one. Where else would you find an offer of free books at the request that each person limit themselves to three copies? Perhaps a simple concept but still one that seems entirely foreign to me. Yet within these walls it did not seem so strange, it is rather characteristic of a place that instantly strives to welcome you. Why not go in and get absorbed in the wonders of the viewfinder or donate one of your favourite books so it can be enjoyed by a happy stranger?

The incredibly warm staff suggest the overall feeling that the shop creates - one in which you are not only intrigued but are made to feel entirely at ease. Plus, it seems that this is a place that has much more to offer. The beginning of in store events including talks, film screenings and storytelling in the not so distant future and word of new stock arriving from India in the coming months, it seems the magic is only set to continue. Filled with anticipation this is definitely one place that I will be keeping my eye on, awaiting more places to get lost in and treasures to discover.

The Transformation of Concorde

Stepping into Concorde 2 is usually a pretty similar experience and I've become fairly accustomed to the venue, but when I entered through its doors last night I was met with a different world entirely. The take over by the Gypsy Disco saw an immersive experience quite unlike anything else I have seen set inside those walls. While standing in the queue, a burden usually dreaded by even the most patient of people, we were met with fire dancers and thus encapsulated before we had even made it inside. What was immediately ensured that we were in for a night we would fail to forget easily.

 

This promise was not made in vain and as soon as we entered we were exposed to the immense effort that the team had gone to. The whole of the venue was draped with material and foliage, creating a dream like world. There was a feeling that you'd left the streets of Brighton and found yourself in a magical land beyond human perception. 

The gypsy swing bands that played ensured that everyone was on there feet and dancing. The usual fate of awkward dancing and head bopping that is so often found on a night out was chased away by uninhibited displays of energy and beaming faces everywhere you looked. Its one of those things which if you embrace in its entirety, you find that you are left with this collective sense in the air - safe in that knowledge that you are all just glad to be there. My favourite moment of the night had to be heading into the smoking area to find a live band playing, complete with an impressively sized bass. That little corner of clarity away from the madness of inside is what really made me feel at ease, as if I'd truly stumbled on a little haven away from the chaotic whirlwind of everyday life. It is that feeling of calm that can be found in the unexpected corners that I am really appreciative for, and for providing me with that I can feel that I lay witness to something that can only be described as magical.

The allusive cafe post (part two)

Little bird (16 Kensington Gardens)

This is much more of a tea and cake place but they sure do a good job of it. With wooden benches it isn't the cosiest of places but it is well lit with incredibly friendly staff which makes the experience more than enjoyable. I had a homemade brownie when I came here and it did not disappoint at all. Wonderfully moist and one of those things that you never want to stop eating. There isn't the biggest selection of tea ever and no chai to fill my addiction but the cafe is always relatively quiet so perfect for spending the afternoon with a book if you can overlook the lack of comfy seating. I think the real draw here would be the range of homemade vegan cakes but as I am yet to try one I sadly can't comment, my friends seem to go here especially for them though so they must be good!

Wai Kika Moo Kau (11a Kensington Gardens)
As a vegetarian cafe Wai Kika Moo Kau is certainly an attractive place for those wanting to avoid meat and the line that often forms outside assures me that people seem to be attuned to that. As one of my favourite cafes in Brighton I can't help returning here again and again, yet despite the vast menu which also offers a good range of vegan options I do always find myself going for the same thing. The halloumi pitta with sweet chilli sauce is so mouth watering that I actually dream about it, whenever my mind returns to it I feel on the verge of salivation and suddenly get incredibly hungry. Plus the prices here are a reason to go in itself. A halloumi pitta will set you back a mere 3.50 and the rest of the menu is equally unthreatening to your wallet - ideal for the money conscious student.

Iydea (17 Kensington Gardens)
If this were an award ceremony then Iydea would without a doubt be going home with first prize and as winner of the Brighton and Hove Foodie Awards' best cafe it seems I'm not the only one who thinks so. An array of homemade vegetarian and vegan dishes which changes daily, there is nothing boring about this place and I think it would simply be impossible to tire of it. For those meat addicts out there don't let the fact that this place is vegetarian put you off. Upon my first visit I quickly came to the conclusion that I had just eaten the best meal I had ever come across, and as someone who loves to eat that is definitely a high compliment. In fact, just how good the food was is one of the things that nudged me towards making the jump to vegetarianism.

The portions here are more than generous with a large main, two sides and two dips (I'd recommend the spicy tomato salsa every time). I often find that I end up bringing the remains of my meal home in a take away box. As a student, being provided with two meals in one is always appreciated. As for the set up of the cafe itself there's plenty of space and lots of friendly faces. The staff are always a pleasure and happy to recommend which dish is their favourite out of the selection of wonders. Plus if you can nab a window seat then you're in for a healthy dose of people watching. Now all this talk of delicious food has made me hungry, I guess a trip to Iydea is in order...

The allusive cafe post (part one)

Life definitely has the ability to sweep you off your feet sometimes and with the whirlwind that has been the past couple of weeks my new blog has fallen into the background a bit. Well now things are more settled I think it's about time to dust off the cobwebs and finally get down to that promised cafe post. So as not to bore you all with masses of writing I've divided the post into two parts, expect part two tomorrow! Without further ado here it is, part one of Brighton's cafes from the perspective of a newly converted vegetarian!

The Marwood (52 Ship Street)

Always a favourite to go and hide away in, The Marwood is tucked away on Ship Street so often feels like a little secret I've stumbled upon. The decor inside is enough to make you want to lose yourself in here for hours and when I took my friend Biba we managed to while away 3 hours without even realising! Although small, the whole place is filled with little wonders from toy battleships hanging from the ceiling to paintings that have been cleverly changed, my favourite being a landscape that has had spaceships added in. Usually packed with people, you are bound to find a lively atmosphere here.

Although not specifically focused on food, the cafe does have a menu  which, although not the widest one you will ever find, manages to cater to the tastebuds. Everything comes to a high standard and although I only ordered poached eggs on toast the bread was perfectly selected. A good one to visit in the morning! There are plenty of more adventurous options on the menu too, with promises of a veggie hangover breakfast. Biba opted for the homemade soup of the day which was spicy lentil. Although the spiciness was definitely not in short supply and a bit too much for me to handle it was absolutely delicious! 

 

This place seems to be best for morning eating or sitting in with a cup of tea with some friends. Plus there is a monthly stitch n' bitch held which I can't wait to check out!

Delice Bistro (40 Kensington Gardens)
A little bit more upmarket, you can expect to pay slightly more for a meal here (think more around the 10 pound mark) but with a range of lunch and dinner options this place really is a foody one. There isn't a great vegetarian range but there are a few options. I've sampled the eggs benedict and vegetarian breakfast and let me tell you, go for the breakfast every time! You get a good amount of food with fried eggs, spinach, beans, a slow roasted tomato, hash brown (always important and this one was damn good!), mushrooms, toast and a veggie sausage. I still could have eaten more but maybe that's just me being a bottomless pit. It is the veggie sausage that got me with this - I may be a newbie to the veggie world but it is the best one I have ever come across! Linda McCartney was my upstanding winner in that department but she's been forced to move over. 

The downstairs here is verging on formal and that makes sense as the bistro is also open as a restaurant in the evening but with big windows it is nicely open. The tables outside, situated in the heart of the North Laines, provide the perfect opportunity for people watching. The upstairs however is the real treat - if you can manage to nab a seat up here then it's a much more relaxed vibe and even a couple of sofas for a lucky group! They also make a mean chai latte so try and grab that sofa and spend an afternoon having an overdose of hot drinks. 

Come back tomorrow for part two and three more cafes!

Brighton with Biba

Last week I had my oldest friend Biba come and stay with me in Brighton for the first time since I moved here. I had the pleasure of showing the lovely lady a few of my favourite spots in Brighton. As we spent most of the time eating I've decided to separate a run down of the places we visited in a WHOLE post of its own! Expect that in the next few of days, but in the meantime here are a couple of my favourite places that we visited.

Snooper's Paradise is by far one of my favourite shops, situated in the North Laines in Brighton. A treasure trove of items, it's so easy to get lost in its walls for hours. With an array of trinkets downstairs it can feel as if I've fallen down the rabbit hole. You can find a whole other set of fun with the photo booth that is located in the middle of the shop. Many of my friends will go to Snooper's simply to indulge in the wonders of the booth and take home a little keepsake. If you're a regular in Brighton it can be lots of fun to start a little collection of photos with various people. My aim is to have a whole gallery by the end of the year!

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Upstairs you will find Snooper's Attic and a whole other world to get lost in! The shop provides a beautiful collection of handmade one-off pieces of clothing. I always find that it's a dangerous fate heading up those stairs as each time I end up leaving with a huge dent in my student loan.

Borderline Records is also somewhere I like to visit while exploring the North Laines. With fab music constantly playing and a great selection of colourful posters on the wall, it can be perfect to stop into for a bit of browsing. The record shop has a collection of vinyl and an even more impressive collection of CDs. As a CD player is my main mode of listening I always love to enter into the shop to find new treats to play. 

I bought three CDs while I was there with Biba - including Earth Wind and Fire, which I find is perfect to get me revved up before a night on the town, and Sly and the Family Stone. My best purchase of the day had to be UB40's Labour of Love. I've always really enjoyed listening to UB40's music but I'm not very familiar with their albums. On a whim I decided to go for this record because of the incredible artwork. Thankfully I lucked out, the album is by far one of my favourites to listen to now. A collection of smile inducing reggae that is perfect to skank too, I'd really recommend checking it out!