Here's a brand that many might not have heard of, which I was recently told about, Owner Operator a name which describes exactly what this brand is. With over twenty years of snowboarding under their belts, the scene has drifted far afield of the independent ethos that drew them into it in the first place. 100% independent, self-funded, and self-run. 'When nobody else is giving you what you need, you just have to do it yourself'. All produced in the US. It’s how the people who’ve inspired them always did it, and it’s how they are doing it today. Nice parkas, worth a look.
This looks good, released last year in the States and out over here Jan 21st, the first feature film from director Aaron Schneider spun out of folk tale, fable and real life legend it tells the story of Felix Brush(Duvall) a 1930's Tennessee hermit who famously threw his own rollicking funeral party... while he was still alive. Good cast, looks slick, Robert Duvall, Bill Murray, what's not to like? Get Low.
a Stockport based chap carrying the look off in Amsterdam 1984, early Stone Island yachting jacket, Timberland deck shoes and Chevignon strides. Thanks to John P for the pic. "I remember when I was a child/Kid and we wear stuff like uniform, Avirex, Naj-oleari, Timberland, Best Company, Foxhound and a jacket called "Dolomite". Anyway, few years a go i was with some pals of mine down in a pizzeria/panineria called "Portobello" in my City (Catania). During the '80 this place was a tipical meeting place of Paninari. Near the place was a garage with a lot of spray writings between Paninari vs dark and viceversa." Angelo, Catania.
The Return of the Paninaro, if you've more than a passing interest in what you wear then you'll have probably noticed we've gone right through an eighties revival over the last couple of years, right through, everything's a bit Paninaro at the moment, Timberland deck shoes, Henri Lloyd yachting coats and Moncler puffas, Burlington socks, rolled up jeans and chinos, colourful sweatshirts and sunglasses, a trend styled by young Italians on their scooters in the early 80's which took off over here along with The Pet Shop Boys' tribute single of the same name, a look which at times only someone from Bologna could really pull off to the full extent, but mixed and matched became classic style, classic labels which I know never really went away for some. Now it seems they're back with the recent release of this Italian film. Heading into the 90s next then for sure, we'll all be tucking our jumpers into our strides soon, I'm off to find some old Naff Naff stuff before anyone else gets on it.
This looks worth a watch, Director Peter Mullan's Neds, a coming of age drama set in 1970s Glasgow, has already taken two top honours at the San Sebastian Film Festival. Neds - non-educated delinquents an old phrase north of the border, in the modern day you could argue it's Scotch for chav - follows an intelligent boy struggling with gang warfare, an alcoholic father and class barriers. The film received its world premiere at the Toronto Film Festival recently, where it was screened with subtitles. Coming of age dramas are usually decent, especially with added violence and swearing. Reminiscent of Small Faces (1996) with a hint of This is England, This is Scotland? Peter Mullan - a good actor too, many will think Trainspotting and Shallow Grave, but I'd say Riff Raff and My Name is Joe. On the other side of the camera he is known for the hard hitting TheMagdalene Sisters (2002) and the excellent underrated and underwatched Orphans (1997) Looking forward to it.
What better way to end the festivities, than a nice long Bank Holiday stroll in the cold and some proper beer? sounds nice doesn't it? well it was, though it all went a bit Planes, Trains and Automobiles, feeling a little stranded and breaking every rule in the Highway Code along the way, when you experience dark winding country lanes, with no pavements, and large heavy noisy vehicles coming at you both ways it seems a bit of a recipe for disaster. All that went through my head on this dark perilous path was that we couldn't have been the first, and we wouldn't be the last to walk it, it was, in truth a silly place to walk, especially as the sun set, but it was the only way, not exactly Captain Oates, but scary none the less. A sheep growled at us as we passed his field, 'I'm on your side fella', I said, but he just clattered at us, unapproving. Excuse the tiltshifting on some of these photos, I've got a new camera and I'll be damned if I don't dick around with it.
Point and shoot, plastic boots.
Due to it's influx of WAGs, Prestbury council have now installed roadside mirrors so they can check their face-aches whilst sitting at the lights.Pph.
So, anyway, Prestbury was the first destination, a village, or ecclesiastical parish in the unitary authority of Cheshire East and the ceremonial county of Cheshire, England. Prestbury is well known for being one of the wealthiest areas in the country, a magnet for the super rich, though a village allegedly on it's arse thanks to it's multi millionaire famous footballing residents and their talentless, tasteless wives trundling off to the Trafford Centre in their Chelsea tractors and not supporting local businesses. Aside from those c*nts, Prestbury is a pleasant setting, pompous perhaps, but not too uninviting. An olde worldly place sandwiched between Macclesfield and Wilmslow, perched atop of the River Bollin.
Prestbury's Black Boy pub, aka The Gary Coleman arms, where casual racism didn't go out of fashion with Eddie Booth and flared trousers. Good pint of the black stuff, mind.
The plan was to walk over to the nearby small milltown of Bollington, aka The Happy Valley, famous for it's landmark White Nancy which sits proudly on the summit of Kerridge hill overlooking greater Manchester in the distance. Bollington I like, it's a bit out in the sticks, maybe even a bit backward, who knows? but it's quaint, it's twinned with my Grandmothers home land, I'd live there. Though not ideal if you're just on your feet, no stations but a canal, it's popular with walkers and riders and apparently once was in the record books for having more pubs per square mile, they're good at that, with the pub we were looking for brewing in house.
Find me a more inviting sight than this, during the gloom of a freezing cold early January and I'll eat one of my hats. Bollington's bank holiday bus services are as to be expected but bus it we did, I was fucked if I was making that country lane jaunt once again, now it was really dark, we were given an hour and half wait whilst ordering a taxi, perhaps they just had the one, like in the olden days, one milkman, one postie with a cat, one policeman (Terry Waite snr) no bad thing I guess. Of all the random 'slebs you could spot in a place like this, we saw a woman from Australian soap Home and Away, 'Irene Roberts', evesdropping her phone conversation on the way out she thought she was in Bollingworth in Chester, Chester? I bet she was freezing cold. I know I was. We finished off in nearby Macclesfield in a pale ale haze by the fire.
