butter LONDON is a natural nailcare company operating on a theory they call “Three Free,” meaning all of their nailpolishes are free of formaldehyde, toluene, and DBP – all unnatural stuff that traditionally is used in nailpolish. The brand’s creator moved to the U.S. from England in 2005 to create the brand, and many of the colors and their names are inspired by the U.K.

The polishes are simply gorgeous. My favorite fall pick is British Racing Green, a hunter green that was used on several fall ‘09 designer runways. For autumn, I also adore La Moss, a wine-soaked burgundy, and Queen Vic, which butter describes as red-wine-meets-cranberry.

Since I’m a sucker for pink, I can’t resist Dolly Bird and London Underground. (After all, pink is perfect at any time of year!)

In addition to polishes in to-die-for colors, butter LONDON offers cuticle treatments, hand creams, and a range of foot treatment products, including Stiletto Stick, a push-up solid that treats rough heels.

Be sure to visit their website, if only to check out the artsy nature-inspired illustrations.

On Wednesday, I went to the London Transport Museum in Covent Garden to see their special exhibition on Suburbia. The exhibition wasn’t very good, to be honest – two small rooms of estate agent details from the 1930s, and lots of adverts from home-builders. But the rest of the museum is much better than you’d imagine, with much more interesting material covering quite a lot of the same ground – the coming of the Met Line was one of the central struts of the suburbs being developed, and it means there’s better stuff in the main body of the museum than in the slightly empty, slightly lacklustre display rooms.

If you only visit it once every fifteen years or so, the Museum is absolutely spellbinding, and walking into the old rolling stock is a real Proustian experience – some of the trains dating from the 1940s were still in use in the early 1980s on the Met Line, and it’s really odd strolling into a museum piece that you can remember using.

Each carriage has a little tableau to set the time period, and here’s a collection of the waxworks used. My favourite is the one below – the early 1960s, where the young dummies have been placed in such a way that it looks like they’re goading the guy in the suit and are about to attack him like a couple of ultraviolent Droogs.

Oddly, the Transport Museum is one of the handful of London museums that isn’t free – it costs £10 to go in, and confusingly, it’s actually £8, but with a voluntary £2 donation, and then they want to take all your details to get the Gift Aid tax rebate. I asked if I could pay £8, give them £2 as a donation, and not fill in the form, but it doesn’t work like that, apparently. These tax-dodges, eh? Not as simple as you’d think.

Following on from my big adventure to Barcelona earlier in the year, I’m off to Wales for the weekend. It’s going to take substantially longer to get there than it did to get to Barcelona. I’m going by train and I’m rather dreading the journey.

Fortunately Maggie, she of the occasional comments on this blog and provider of the link to the real life chocolate pizza, is putting me up for a night on the way there, so that breaks the journey a bit, but next week I shall be coming home from Wales in one feel swoop.

On the train I’ll be able to get up and stretch my legs now and then, and I might even be able to sleep for part of it, so it has advantages over car travel from an R.A. point of view. Hopefully I won’t get too madly stiff. What I’m worried about is the fact that I have a total of ten trains to catch in the next five days, excluding London Underground links which are the biggest pain of all, and the British train service is notoriously unreliable … to put it politely. Combine that with severe weather warnings across the south of England (I have to travel through London both ways), and it could be an ‘interesting’ weekend.

At least I’m looking forward to seeing Maggie and family and my friends in Wales. Pity that all their Christmas presents are due to arrive in the post to me at work today, and I’m not going into work – I didn’t time that very well!

From Guardian

Is it the end of the line for London’s iconic tube map?

The expansion of the Oyster card brings yet more change for Harry Beck’s classic design. It’s time to go back to the drawing board

Might the Oyster card swipe the world-famous London Underground map off the walls of tube stations for ever? From the beginning of 2010, Oyster cards can be used for travel on all public transport services in Greater London including tube trains, buses, trams, suburban trains, the Docklands Light Railway and Thames Clipper river boats. What this revolution in ticketing means is that Londoners and visitors to the capital will be able to travel seamlessly above, below and across the city, as well as out to its farthest-flung suburbs.

I hope not, it would be very sad to see this iconic image disappear.

A fat man, devoid of hair, in a three-piece suit and a Crombie, came snuffling and snorting into the carriage. Eyes bulbous. Covering each tickle in his throat with the broadsheet newspaper fixed in both hands, the page billowing with each explosion of phlegm. Married with the rattle of the train and the otherwise empty carriage, he moved opposite me.

The train absorbed passengers at the next station. A striking girl with long blonde hair climbed in. The man with her only showed his back in this direction. Kisses rendered empty by her open, empty blue gaze over his shoulder each time their lips met.

Sitting two seats down, on the other side of the carriage, a young man sat, laughing, each burst twisting the scar that ran from under his ear to his chin, old, broad and pink against his pale skin. His partner never looked at him throughout the journey.

Two women bearing theatre programmes blared at each other across the aisle. The one opposite mover har face through a curious tableaux of strained expressions – the inquisitive listener, the amused lady. Her companion articulated an inaudible monologue with her eyes, gently creasing and relaxing in perfect time with her companion’s face.

The carriage now full, seemingly made up of actors performing a macabre play under the roar of the train charging through tunnels. The seat was uncomfortablly firm; the urge to leave this improvised scene absolute.

The snuffling beast opposite now faced a young woman flanked by an expensive grey suitcase. Studiously she avoided eye contact with the beast, anstractly exercising the pale pink of her lips with the painted fingernail of her index finger. The rest of her face was immobile.

At last, Camden Town, and the chance of escape into some other performance.

The tubes rumble and steam under this great, beating city. They stop and start, shudder and moan but always, onwards keep going.

It all links together – a web of botched causeways, slip streams and dead ends, haphazardly, organically united under the coarsely slashed circle.

Its lifeblood, pumping through its veins 19 hours a day: we, the greying commuters. We seeth along its clogged ducts, feed into bottle-necks, cram behind the lost tourists, tut at the trundling, obese bags and three-wheeled prams and relentlessly pant in search of fresh reality.

It’s another world down there, the monoclinical lighting, globs of chewing gum – usually, perfectly, lodged in the nostril of a star on a poster – and stink from the bowels of life above. Every day we file down, rush and push, squeeze, raise eyebrows, grimace and shove, sit, avoid eye-contact, stare, lean, welcome, pour out, rush along, bustle and beep beep into the blinking morning. Then the formula flips and it’s dark and the mood is different and more foreign is ringing around the tin carriage, people who haven’t worked, first timers on the system, oh how weird that must feel… and once again we’re spat into cold, shivering energy.

The cartes huitres, the lights, the whirring wind forced through the pipes. Beggars, bad buskers, lovely drunkards and the occasional, fleeting glimpse of a face with a future you’d like to be part of.

Welcome to Monday.

You are commuting again.

And just as you think that your reverse culture shock has delivered all the after tremors possible, you find yourself consumed by irritation once again.

Because British people do not know how to use the underground properly.

Obsessed by this personal space nonsense, even at peak time rush hour they are insistent on maintaining that 18 inches of sacrosanct free air around them.

This drives you nuts, of course, but at least it has led to a new game. Sidling up to someone who is blithely occupying the space of three people and watching them inch slowly away from you. And then observing their neighbor also move uneasily away. Then move closer again.

This way, you can get a whole carriage of people corralled at one end, and, incidentally, make room for at least another ten people to get on.

But take note people. Letting travelers get off before you get on does NOT mean standing immediately in front of the doors and tutting as they are forced to actually lightly brush the obstacle as they squeeze their way past. Although in your case you will stagger dramatically at a critical moment and kick immovable objects on the ankles if given half a chance. You are a cruel woman before your second cup of coffee.

Of course, people who stay put slap bang in front of the doors on the inside when they have no intention of getting off, forcing their fellow passengers climb over them as they scramble through the doors also have a special level of hell waiting for them in your personal universe.

But what is possibly the most annoying thing is how Brits in Moscow complain about the crush on the metro. You, on the other hand, look back in nostalgia to a more civilised country where people actually venture to communicate with each other in order to find out who is getting off next and then rearrange themselves accordingly.

Anyway, the only way to deal with this blot on the British character in a way which does not send your blood pressure soaring, you have found, is to not use the underground at all.

Which was working very nicely, thanks. Except that you have found that your overland commuter train is even worse.

Mainly because you can always get a nice comfy seat near the window when you get on.

Unfortunately this just adds to the difficulties of extracting yourself two stops before everyone else later.

Especially when you have been so engrossed in marking that you look up to find the train standing at your stop.

‘Bollocks!’ you shout, startling the suited and booted no end.

‘Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, fucking fuckity fuck,’ you chant, only slightly more decorously, as you attempt to reach the doors in an upright position, with all your possessions, without squashing anyone’s inappropriately delicate hand luggage and treading on as many toes as possible.

Although that wasn’t as embarrassing as having to stand there in a puddle of early morning disapproval while the train chuggs slowly to the next stop when the doors irrevocably shut just as you had elbowed the last person between you and them sharply in the ribs.

London Underground

As a result of inflation, the fares of travelling in London have seen a tremendous hike, this year. Fares of London Tube are also raised by around 7.4% recently. The reason behind this raise is not just inflation but, decrease in the number of passengers is also a major cause. The statistics revealed by the transport commissioner – Peter Hendy says that a drop of 6.4% in the number of passengers was seen in the month of August. Against such as huge drop in revenue a fare rise is to be expected. Thus, the decline in the use of network resulted in a busting price rise.

Another reason for decline of network can be the loss of several city jobs due to the effect of recession. This led to 190000 less journeys in a day, in the month of August alone as compared to last year’s same time period. The decline was mostly in the financial districts of Canary Wharf and Square Mile. The enormous decrease in the use of network also resulted in less income for the managers of tube. The London tube is thus, facing a shortfall of a multi billion pound in revenue.

Tfl budget needs a 3.5% jump in the number of passengers by next year and a 7.4% rise in fare to deal with the situation. The Mayor of London – Boris Johnson will soon take a decision regarding the fare prices of London tube by the end of this year. Mr. Johnson also said that there is a “massive black hole” in the transport for the finances of London. But, he will have to keep this in mind that rising the fares up too high will only worsen the situation as people will start avoiding travelling by tube in order to shun the higher prices.

If there’s one thing the Internet has revolutionised, it’s the urban legend. Time was when you’d have to work for your insane rumours. These days a good story can be invented, spread round the world and debunked by Snopes by lunchtime. How did we ever manage without it?

I was recently reminded of a London urban legend that predates the Internet – or at least, widespread use of it. It seems to have originated in the 1980s. I heard it as a schoolchild in the mid-’90s. I am speaking of the Chelsea Smilers.

The Smilers, so the story goes, were a gang of football hooligans. Depending which version of the story you hear, they would either roam the streets of South London, travel around in a blue Transit Van or – if you looked particularly easy to scare – would go door-to-door.

Details varied, but the basic essence of the story was this. The Smilers would confront you and ask you if you supported Chelsea Football Club (soccer team, for the benefit of any United Stateseans who may be reading). Possibly they would ask you a series of trivia questions to prove it. In the version I was told, they would then slice the corners of your mouth – upwards if you said yes, downwards if you said no. Then they would punch you hard, so you’d scream, thus ripping your mouth into a permanent smile or frown. Some versions would add that they would then pour something on the wound, usually vinegar, so the scars wouldn’t heal properly. I’m surprised no one suggested ink.

The Joker supports Chelsea.

There are a million variants on the story. Some say that they only cut you if you don’t support Chelsea, and then only in the form of the smile. Some say this was only practised by criminal gangs in Chelsea (presumably they march around in tailored suits, terrifying onlookers with their white-collar fraud and cold-blooded acts of insider trading). To be honest, while I don’t deny that such crimes may have happened – such scarring is known as the “Glasgow smile” and, so says the Daily Express, a case is treated every day by Scotland’s hospitals. But I’ve yet to see any real evidence that the Chelsea Smilers exist.

Still, I went to school in South-West London and it was a damn fine scary story. And that’s what’s important.

Tonight at about 19:37 has the dubious honour of being the 22nd anniversary of the Kings Cross Fire.

The fire was catastrophic, and unfortunate, no smoking had been allowed on the London Underground for years, since the little known Oxford Circus Fire, on Novemebr 23rd 1984, although no-one was killed, 14 were hospitalized. The fire gutted the stairs up from, and the whole of the Victoria Line platforms. So extensive was the damage to the Victoria Line platforms that the station wasn’t fit for purpose for weeks, finally reopening on December 17th.

Back to Kings Cross, 3 years after the Oxford Circus Fire, and return to bedlam, the fire was absolutely out of control, with people screaming to get out, clambering over each other to get to fresh air, some resigning to their fate. at 19:45, the London Fire Brigade arrive, first in was Officer Colin Townsley, who was leading the first fire engine crew to arrive, he rushed in without any breathing apparatus, and on his return to his crew he helped a lady, and became overwhelmed by the smoke, and lost consciousness. According to wikipedia:

“London Fire Brigade Station Officer Colin Townsley from A24 Soho was in charge of the first fire engine to arrive at the scene and was down in the station concourse at the time of the flashover. As he was making his exit, Townsley spotted a woman who was in trouble and stopped to help her. He was not wearing breathing apparatus and was overcome by the smoke. Although he was later found in the inferno by his colleagues, efforts to revive him had little effect, and he was rushed to hospital, where he later died due to smoke inhalation.”

In short, London Underground’s Health & Safety measures have improved exponentially since the tragic fire, simple steps [unintended pun!] include removing all but 1 of the wooden escalators, replaced by steel steps. Emergency fire push-buttons every few metres on ALL escalators, and fire extinguishers at the base and summit of all escalators [although removed from ALL trains due to vandalism].

On leaving work, I started walking towards South Kensington underground station. As I walked along the street, I could hear something ahead of me, jangling away. ‘How irritating is that’ I thought to myself, speeding up to try and overtake whoever was making the noise.

I caught up with a woman – undoubtedly the culprit – perhaps something attached to her handbag, a piece of jewellery…? I walked past her, only to still hear the noise ahead of me.

More speed, I thought, as I aimed to overtake two men ahead of me. As I approached them, I glanced up and down trying to see what was making the infuriating sound. Jingle jangle, jingle jangle. I walked past one man but the noise was still in front. Then, just as I was neck and neck with the second man, we arrived at the tube station. He went towards the Piccadilly line and I took my place for the District and Circle. Never mind, I thought -  I may not have been able to get past that one final person, but at least no more noise.

When I arrived back at Brighton,  I got off the train and headed home. It wasn’t until I was down a particularly quiet lane that I heard a familiar sound. Jingle, jangle. Jingle jangle. And it was only then that I thought – what was it about that sound that made me so determined to overtake all three people, simply to get away from it? Why not slow down for a minute and let the noise drift away (only to realise it was actually being caused by me)? Why not let it become part of the overall sound of the underground or street?

It really was a case of: calm down, take stock of life, get things into perspective.

Join the protest 12 noon, Weds 18 November, Templar House, 81-87 High Holborn, London, WC1V 6NU

The cleaning contract on London Underground’s Bakerloo, Victoria and Central Lines is set to be renegotiated and a new company is expected to grab it. It is likely to demand new (and worse) conditions and will trawl again through workers’ immigration status.Cleaners, many of them migrant workers, are sick of being handed around from company to company, and continually facing poor pay and conditions. Their RMT union has called a protest in their support at the headquarters of Metronet—which is responsible for the contract.

RMT press release:

TUBE AND TfL union RMT will be holding a demonstration in support of London Underground cleaners fight against privatisation this Wednesday (18 November) as it emerged that senior TfL bosses have received a 50% increase in bonus payments over the past two years from £3.6 million in 2007 to £5.3 million this year.

The tube cleaners, who are also fighting for TfL Chair Boris Johnson’s London Living Wage, will be outside the former Metronet headquarters at Templar House, 81-87 High Holborn at 12 noon on Wednesday 18^th November.

RMT is demanding that all tube cleaning services should be brought back in house on decent wages and terms and conditions with the cleaners recognised as an integral part of the London Underground team rather than a soft touch for cuts and exploitation.

In a separate part of RMT’s campaign for Cleaners Justice the union has attacked the private company Advance – who clean train trains for Southern running out of London Bridge and Victoria – for slashing staffing levels in order to prop up their profits. RMT is warning that the cleaning cuts will leave trains dirty on these important London commuter services.

Bob Crow, RMT General Secretary said:

“The continued attacks on tube cleaners, and on the staff working for Advance on Southern, show that senior tube and rail managers, and the Mayor himself, are prepared to turn a blind eye while those doing the dirtiest jobs on the lowest pay are kicked from pillar to post. That’s a disgrace.

“Londoners should not tolerate a situation where TfL bosses get a 50% increase in bonuses over the past two years while some of their own cleaners on the tube are denied the Mayor’s London Living Wage and are forced to endure the uncertainty of repeated privatisation.

“RMT’s fight for justice for cleaners on our transport system will continue to put this issue right in front of the Mayor and the senior bosses who have the power to stop this exploitation.”

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The Metro rather annoyingly did a piece on this via their editorial collaboration with It’s Nice That before I had chance to post on it. But post on it I will, cocking a giant snook to those who insist that observing first is better than observing more astutely!

Down to business: I’ve been loving this series of tube ads for dixons.co.uk.

The brilliant thing about this series of ads isn’t the subtle use of fonts and colours that enables you to identify Harrods, Selfridges and John Lewis. It’s not even the use of Tube media (and tube lines) to target the message effectively. It’s Dixon’s own recognition that as a stack ‘em high, sell ‘em cheap retailer, they can’t offer the in-store experience that any of the big London department stores can.

They know that people like to physically play with technololgy products before they commit to purchase – whether it’s an iPod, a flat screen telly or a surround sound system. And they know that their stores don’t necessarily give people a great customer experience. Actually, scratch that: they know that when people go to a Dixons store they get pimply straight-out-of-school ’sales assistants’ who probably know less about the product they’re interested in buying than they do. They also get a plasticy space with stained carpets in a run-down retail unit somewhere. So, far better to play to their biggest strength: price. Go to one of the big  department stores, say Dixons. Have a great time, have a chat with the posh kid who works there, soke up the ambience and feel safely middle class! But then go home and buy your telly off our website, because it’s cheaper.

And after all, there is a recession on. I know what I’ll be doing next time I’m in the market for a flat-screen.

The infamous London Underground sign

Getting around London is a breeze and no the underground tube is not as daunting as everyone tells you it will be.

A tube map is a must-have and it’s so easy to read even if your navigation skills are as poor as a captain lost at sea. 

But never fear, the London Underground staff are like walking encyclopaedia’s on the city’s tube system and are more than happy to help if you need directions.

The public transport system in London is usually very reliable. Transport for London (TFL) are so efficient at giving service updates that you barely have time to even think about asking what the hold-up is.

But the problem is not in the delivery of the message, it’s in the message itself. On any given day there is bound to be little hiccups that cause station closures or stop travel from one point to the next, but what about the update that “your services are being delayed due to a person under the train.”

TFL staff refer to it as “one-under,” meaning exactly what it suggests – a person has been hit by a train. Usually it is a suicide attempt; less often it is from people being pushed or falling.

It was only recently that I was on the Piccadilly line when I heard the blasé announcement about a person being “under the train.” I just couldn’t comprehend that something so serious was announced so lightly.

I asked a TFL worker why the incident is fully disclosed in that way and he said too many people blame the delays on TFL’s services so they have to inform passengers what is really causing the delay.

Seems to me that TFL really just don’t want to take the blame!

But I think the bigger issue here is the fact that someone has just ended their life for whatever reason and TFL announces it to get themselves out of hot water!

I’ve also been told that the announcements are made because the incidents are becoming a regular occurrence. According to the Railway Safety and Standards Board (RSSB), around 50 people kill themselves on the London Underground each year.

No wonder there was such an outrage when the film Three and Out was released. Check out the clip below if you haven’t already heard about it – I don’t know what was going through the Director’s mind when he crafted up this movie idea!

So apart from the delays due to things like a person being under the train (if I may put it so lightly), getting from A to B in London is easy –but hearing the pleasant voice announcing the not-so pleasant news will take some getting use to!

Survival Tip: Don’t become just another service update

If you or someone you know is experiencing depression or suicidal thoughts, call the Samaritans on 08457 90 90 90

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]]> http://splurgebook.wordpress.com/2009/11/13/national-rail-a-rant-and-a-half/ Fri, 13 Nov 2009 17:35:37 +0000 Andy http://splurgebook.wordpress.com/2009/11/13/national-rail-a-rant-and-a-half/

Seems like the cost of travel is becoming incredibly high with the recent announcemet of the most expensive rail ticket rolling in at £1000. Thankfully, no-one has bought this ticket, yet (anyone considering a £1000 ticket to Scotland would be almost mad). I could potentially find a ticket to the other side of the world and back with change to spare. But the thing is, are we paying way to much for our rail travel?

I’m a student who studies at college, so I earn close to zilch and completely dependant on family for, well, everything. It was handy that I was able to get a 16+ Oyster card for the London Underground which allowed me to spend only £1.10 on return journeys and free bus travel per day. This means that in a week, I would be spending close to £6 on travel, which isn’t too bad considering the fact that things like food would be able to tie in with my weekly budget. Put simply, I would be able to have a £20 note, and use it for an entire week with change left over. So what’s the situation like now after moving?

Different. That’s about all I could say about it. Instead of lasting a week, a single £20 note would last me barely 2 days, and that’s considering I’ve starved myself for lunch and spent all of it on travel alone. Shocked as I was, I decided to do something about it; I got myself a young persons rail card (oh, and it was £26).

Exciting, now I can save a heap if money on travel, or can I? Unlike the 16+ Oyster card, you don’t get half price travel, but I guess that’s Ok, a 1/3 saving is good enough right? Not when you can’t use it before 10am. What was that I hear you ask? Yes, a young persons rail card, the one which requires you to go to school or college doesn’t let you use it before 10am! Now I ask you, what educational establishment in this country starts at 10am each day, and that’s not considering the time it takes to get there. Sure I can use it after college, but I’d still be spending a heap load of money a day, and to be honest, compared to getting a daily return, I might as well not bother with the rail card and save my £26.

Sure if you live in London, you could get an add-on for your Oyster for a mere £10 a week, but that certainly doesn’t help the people like us who have to travel into London from the tip of Surrey every single day. Added to that the fact that I live just outside the edge of the zoned area, and you’ve got yourself a real biggie of a problem.

I’ve been thinking though, surely the extra cost is worth it somehow? Yes, the trains are smoother than the London Underground, and the service is somewhat better, but to be honest, for (to me and potentially hundreds of other people) a service which simply takes me to where I need to go, it’s just that. I don’t want tables and comfy chairs, I don’t particularly pay attention to how smooth the trains are unless I’m really bored, and the service isn’t exactly to die for, so why do I end up paying so much? Well, it’s because I have no other choice but to pay the premium for travel and things I simply don’t need. Easyjet does budget flights, mini-cabs are cheaper than taxis, so what about rail? Does a student really have to shout it out?

Now, I know the likes of National Rail aren’t exactly going to read this; I assume they have a posh multi-million pound champaigne party to go to. I’ll see you guys on Monday when you can take more of my money to fund it.

I’ve been so many places

I’ve seen so many faces

PARIS. BCN. LONDON.

Family. Friends. Lovers.

The Adventures of Skip & Scout.

Episode 1 + 2

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has broken. fragmented dreams and abandoned blankets do nothing for my mood. listlessly clothe myself. clumsy application of my mask for today and then off i go. yet another tube ride. made less bleak with armoured head phones in place. i will not truly wake until at my desk. steaming cuppa and hearty muffin paving the way to a good day.