Christmas Project

I've got a pretty reliable Christmas tradition: getting horrendously ill. Last year it was Norovirus (mmmm). This year it was a killer cold. Which scuppered my plan to finish ALL the half-started jobs been lurking around so long I was starting to feel guilty. So instead, I narrowed it down to one: rescuing a broken legged, beige infested armchair its general shabbiness.

Things I've learned about upholstering:
- Don't hammer the nails in all the way until you're sure the cover actually fits.
- 'If I just cut it a bit here, it'll be fine'. This is untrue.
- It's OK to hire a professional.

Still, it looks a million times better than before. If you don't look too close.

Office outfit

Our office Christmas party was totally amazing this year. Mostly (I think) because it was organised by professionals. But equally because there were free cocktails. All night long. The theme was 'Paradise and the Underworld', aka 'Heaven and Hell' aka 'Sluts and Vicars'. But, despite that, the basque count was surprisingly low (yay). And the fun quotient really high. I get a bit reticent about costumes for work parties so me and my friend Hanisha pulled out some DIY 'voodoo' outfits the afternoon before. The facepaint and jewellery were from home. But everything else was made from stuff scrounged around the office. Is that a good thing? Or just lazy? I'm still not entirely sure.

PS: I look weird in this photo mostly because (on my dentist's strict instructions) I'd got braces the week before. So this is me trying to smile. But also trying not to show any teeth. Unsuccessfully. Hanisha looks hot though.

Hackn'een!

Halloween is amazing (and a little scary). Hackney is amazing (and a little scary). Put them together and you get our Hackn'een party (which was straight up amazing). The house was filled with a wild mix of church-going African ladies, junkies, pound stores, gentrifiers - even a 38 bus! I celebrated my old Dalston days by flexing my costume muscle and going as a chalk outline. Which meant I spent a fair bit of the night lying face down on the floor. But it was worth it.

***Yes, to everyone who was actually at that party, we both know it was actually last year. But don't tell anyone.***

Visas suck

The only problem with not being born in England is trying to live here when you're a grown up. Staying for a few months is easy. But after that, you have to leap through flaming hoops for nine (yes NINE) years before you get a passport to call your own.

So in the spirit of visas sucking, two sisters (one who's just had her application rejected, and another who's finally had hers accepted) held a Visas Suck Party for the last weekend they were both going to be legal residents in London. And they asked me to help out. Which, of course, I did.

The theme was 'non EU'. So we had a Columbian drug mule, a New Zealand sheep and a bit of Russian new money floating around. Alice (the sister with the visa) and I (a bona fide passport holder) were border patrol. We spent the night interrogating all the dirty foreigners arriving at the party, then stamping their invites (custom made passports) with 'ACCEPTED' or 'REJECTED' stamps. It was awesome.


No party is complete without a bit of dance-floor accessories. So we had a giant visa, complete with mug-shot hole. One side was stamped ACCEPTED - hooray!, the other side REJECTED - boooo!

Pick me! Pick me!

Just a quick note, I've made a little album of all the different fabrics I'll be using for the dressing gowns and pajamas. They're so good! But there'll only be one or two sets made from each fabric, so if you see something you like, email me at chrisking80@gmail.com by Wednesday 23rd September and I'll make sure I get your size made. Otherwise, the sample sale invite will be gracing these pages soon. Gowns are £29, men's PJ trousers will be £16 and the women's £14. Check out the pics here. Woohoo!

Bearcraft Part V

I know, I know, I should have posted this ages ago. But here's the fruits of our Bearcraft labours. Which, considering we had no money, little time and zero expertise, has turned out pretty well. Hooray for collaborations!

Pimp my paddle

Berlin is so great. Summer is so great. Table tennis is so great. But my table tennis game on the outdoor tables in Berlin...not so great. So I compensated by doing some quick customisation on our bats. One side with a manly, grrrrr-inducing tasch. The other side with a set of luscious lips. Then let the in-between-hits fun commence.

Man Knitting

I don't know what it's like in other places, but in London, you can't really buy anything when you actually need it. So by the time summer arrives, you can't buy swimming trunks. And in winter, all the warm coats have sold out. So I should have known better when I tried to buy a hammock in August. And when I asked in a shop, the assistant did that half-laugh/half-snort-of-disgust thing and proceeded to wearily tell the airspace just above my head that I'd NEVER find a hammock now - but perhaps I could try an outlet store on the edge of town?

To cut a long and slightly bitter story short, I wanted one because my friend Manu was having his 30th in his family's holiday home outside of Madrid. The place is completely idyllic - apart from the fact that it didn't have hammocks. And the small village nearby came up with nothing. So I took matters into my own hands and wiled away a couple of the afternoons knotting one myself. I love hammocks anyway, but this was my favourite one ever. Everything was I used was super-local. The string came from the village shop. The wood for the supports was from the forest nearby. And I used some old washers I found behind the log pile for the ring things. (The instructions I used are here - I spent ages staring at them in disbelief, but if you persevere they do actually make sense)


Sadly, there's no really quick way to do this. Other than going into a shop in winter and buying one.

Then we had to get a bit MacGyver to get a few things ready for the party. First we fixed a leaky inflatable pool using only things we found at the supermarket. Then I got rivet happy and made some sun shades. Throw it all together in a forest your grandfather planted and instant fiesta.

Audrey Roger at Way East

I live in Hackney Wick in London. Which, if I'm honest, is a bit of a dump. But the rent is super-cheap. And as a result, it has more artists per square meter than anywhere else in Europe. Which completely makes up for it. Anyway, I'm in a slightly rambling mood today so I'll cut to the chase and say that once a year, Hackney Wick is sort of transformed into a weekend-long art opening/street party for Hackney Wicked. And this year, I curated a show for it at Way East, which is a space my boyf ran regularly from our house last year, and revived for the festival. The show was a collection of large-scale screen prints and origami by the awesome Audrey Roger - you can see the details and the full art-wank I wrote on the Way East website. Anyway, it was a great weekend, the opening was rammed and I got to meet some incredible people. My pictures don't really do the work justice - it really is amazing. But if you like what you see, there are still some hand-printed geometrics available. They're 100cm x 100cm, £200 each, and are both editions of 8 with two artist proofs. The origami is a one-off, and is £250.

Cranes for Killian

I was stumbling around on Dude Craft the other day and came across one of those rare, eye-misting causes that happen everywhere, all the time. But only pop up online like this every now and then. It was Cranes for Killian. Killian is a totally amazing teenager with cancer, who loves the 1000 cranes story (if you grew up anywhere near the Pacific Rim, you'll know it - if not, it's this). Anyway, the call went out for people to make paper cranes to send to him. So I got a posse together at work and we all learned how to make them together. Since then, the cranes have arrived and a pic of them has been added to Killian's flickr group. Which made Thalia (my friend at work) cry. Awww. If you want to make some too, you definitely should. It's easy. And nice. And the details are all here.

Art in the Attic

Last weekend, the lovely folks at ArtQuest asked me to create a stall for their annual artist jumble sale. So I set up shop offering a free valuation and restoration service to hunt out the hidden art treasures lost among the jumble. Turns out, the room was full of priceless objet d'art - all they needed was a bit of restoration. During the day, I uncovered a pencil that was actually a Jim Lambie, a few unlikely Damian Hursts and a Chapman Bros work. A humble print from a charity shop turned out to be an unsigned Chris Ofili (the dung was missing - but I restored that with some fake poo I from Preposterous Presents). I also found a rare Jeff Koons, a Yayoi Kusama, a Bruce Nauman audio recording, a raft of Christos and a long lost Banksy. After I'd restored these incredible pieces, the proud owners got a certificate of authenticity with a valuation for insurance purposes. I got to meet some lovely folks, have some fun and illicit the odd knowing guffaw. And wear a pair of cardboard comedy glasses. All of which are undoubtably good things.

Juvenile, peurile and irresponsible

But still quite funny though.

Spectacular failure

We had an 11 year old down to visit over the weekend. So that meant trips to TK Maxx, expensive tickets to London's *star* attractions, teen movies and lot's of coke (a-cola). But nothing we did was as much fun for her, or us, as failing miserably at making a tyre swing out the back of our house. It was a total disaster. Getting the rope over the tree branch was a ridiculous process. Then once we'd hung the tyre, we realised it was so bald on one side that the metal reinforcing mesh was sticking out. Which punctured several fingers. Then started tearing the rope. Which, incindetally, began to stretch. The more we swung, the longer it got. So we ditched the tyre. Then tied a stick on instead. The rope got longer still. We tried another one. Even longer. Until parts of the rope were so dangerously thin we decided to get out the scissors and call it a day. It was brilliant though. The more it went wrong, the more fun it became. And all our fussing attracted neighbouring kids, who got involved too. And that earned us waves from the busloads of bemused people going past. So below is not a picture of a perfect tyre swing. But perhaps something even better.

Luscious locks

I've said it before, and I'll probably say it again, but I'm a bit obsessed with Paks. Maybe it's the leave-in placenta conditioner (gross). Or the whole aisle of real human hair (also kinda gross). Or the fact that I have no idea how to actually use any of it. But I find it endlessly fascinating. Anyway, on my last trip, I nabbed a massive length of blond polyester for £2. A quick spruce later and we were both ready for a night out. I've had a couple of requests for hairy rope chains now too, so I imagine they'll be cropping up around these parts sometime soon...

(As a side note, these pics were taken in the small hours, which should simultaneously explain both the slightly crazed expression, and the bad focus (which I incidentally quite like)).

(As another side note, I'm not actually a caner - ignore the above).

Plastic penises at the ready

Last weekend I had the dubious honour of putting together 7 outfits for a clubnight. With zero money. The afternoon before. Eek. Anyway, the theme for the night was 'feminity, so I thew together a last minute hen-night for the occasion. The end result wasn't big, and it wasn't clever. But it was funny, and cheap (£7 each, yessss). I tell you what though, hen-night shopping is not for the faint hearted. I spent a good half-hour sifting through an elaborate array of penis-shaped tat, until settling on glittery penis deely-boppers (and heart-shaped ones for the more demure), penis balloons and a penis-whistle for a bit of piece of flair. Then scoured the market for lays, L-plates, klaxons, fake nails and net curtains to complete the...look. I must admit, dressing in a pack is actually loads of fun (go Crips!). But perhaps more fun was when the outfits disintegrated and the deely boppers started circulating around the party. They even ended up on the bar-staff at one point. Hooray!

Making time and spending time.

I don't know what was in the air in 1979, but this is the year that nearly everyone I know is turning 30. That means good parties, yes. But it also means the birthday presents have to be unusually good too (translation: unusually expensive). But in the midst of this gift-giving orgy, a dear friend in New Zealand who I've known for nearly 20 years had his big 3-0. And suddenly, buying him 'stuff' seemed a bit glib and meaningless. So instead, I'm giving him my time. Every week of his 30th year, I'm going to write him a letter. Because each letter will be one of a series of 52, I've block-printed the letterheads, then each one can be individually numbered as we count through the year. It's only early days, but so far it's been a really relaxing ritual to get into. A proper Sunday afternoon thing. The process could, however, turn me into a real grandpa who gets impatient when people don't write 'thank-you' slips at Christmas. You have been warned.


And this was 1 of 52. The birthday card. But my carefully crafted lino cut was a bit of a disaster (I didn't mirror it before I cut it out), so I had to improvise. Which, sadly, turned out a bit emo. But it's the thought that counts. Right?

The walls have eyes

My friend Nick gave me a completely kick-ass present for my birthday this year: a sticker sheet of cartoon eyes and mouths. Immediately I hundred different plans of things I wanted to stick them on. But a month later, they were on a dangerous trajectory to the bottom of the 'to-do' pile. So when the sun came out on Saturday, me and the boyf spent a slightly hungover afternoon giving life Hackney Wick's nooks and crannies. By definition, this was good, wholesome fun. Which is always nice. And now I've got a little army of faces cheering me on when I walk to the station. We did LOADS of them, but here are a few of my favourites.

Here comes the pain

Today my friend Beth sent and URGENT email. She's starting a Roller Derby team and needed her roller alias. Fast. Her teammate came up with 'Thigh Voltage'. Which sets the bar pretty high. But the challenge dialed up to 11 when I found out the name can't already be registered on the official Rollergirl Master Roster. Which meant High Roller (one of my favourites) was automatically disqualified. I had no choice but to press pause on my actual work and get thinking. Here were my top 5...

1. Skateastrophie
2. Betty Rage
3. HoStopper
4. Wheeler Sheila
5. B.A. BRAracus

To costumes practically design themselves. Custom knee pads, mmmmm.

Nokia 410093 charger?!!?!?!!?!!!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?

There's not much to say here, so I'll try to keep this short. BUT, the topic of the day is those emails taht come around about once a week at work. The ones that say 'Hi everyone!!! Sorry for the all staffer but does anyone have a [brand] [phone model] charger pse:)? xxxxx'. Whenever I read those, I can't help but put on an annoying whiney voice in my head. And neither can you. Admit it! So when a charger mysteriously landed on my desk today, I didn't look that gift horse in the mouth. No. I coiled it up, then gathered up all the agency's other stray chargers and put them in a nice box. So everyone can share (which is nice), and nobody gets charger spam anymore (which is even better).

Bearcraft Part IV: Edit

Again, a bit of a half-assed post because there's not loads to show here. Especially since the pic was shot on my slightly crappy phone. But we're slowly getting through the editing. Which has taught me A LOT about things like 'flopping' and 'prerolls'. And the importance of considering shot continuity while you're filming. Oops. Sean, who's been dealing with our complete lack of technical knowledge, has been a total star. But I'm definitely understanding now why most music videos are just a montages of people singing to camera in a few different places. The next coupel of weeks are definitely going to be a challenge. More results soon.

Bearcraft Part III: Shooting!

I wasn't really sure how to label this one. I started wanting to file it under 'stuff', but the shoot turned out to be a really good laugh that brought loads of different people together. So if nothing else, it ended up feeling more like a project that made 'community' instead. So I've pushed the boat out and tagged it as both. That aside, the shoot was brilliant. I slipped into the director role, which was really fun. And despite not knowing what we were doing technically, we managed to keep the phrase 'that'll be sorted out in post' to a minimum. But after 19 hours, I think we've got everything we need. So if everything goes to plan, it should be finished and on MTV in a few weeks. Exciting!

One man's trash is another man's, erm, trash.

Wandering home through central London the other night, I stumbled (literally) across one of those giant rolls of industrial cling film. So, naturally, I picked it up. And in homage to Shane Waltener (who I have a massive friend-crush on), we set to work making a cling-film web across the footpath. The idea could have been a good one. But to be honest, the end result was completely terrible. Still, some of the pics looked nice. So here they are.

The way to a man's heart

It was my birthday on Friday. But after the cleaning up the carnage from our last party fiasco I was up for something a bit quieter. And not at my house. So we made a little nice-food, nice-drink, nice-people bubble for ourselves in the park. I have to say, I was a fan of picnics before. But after this one, I'm a complete card-carrying evangelist. And already scheming on how to make a bigger and better one for summer. Watch this space.

Bearcraft Part II (and a bit) - test shots

We've finished up the props so me and Ben had a go at some test shots in the studio. Not much of a post, but it's looking good so I thought I'd put it up anyway.