H.O.G.B.L.O.G - House of Gerrish International

LA

Matt — Tue, 15 Dec 2009 20:24:13 +0000

“Cities are distinguished by the catastrophic forms they presuppose and which are a vital part of their essential charm. New York is King Kong, or the blackout, or vertical bombardment: Towering Inferno. Los Angeles is the horizontal fault, California breaking off and sliding into the Pacific: Earthquake.”
- Jean Baudrillard

“Los Angeles is just New York lying down”
- Quentin Crisp

“I love Los Angeles. I love Hollywood. They’re beautiful. Everybody’s plastic, but I love plastic. I want to be plastic.”
- Andy Warhol

“I’d move to Los Angeles if New Zealand and Australia were swallowed up…

I Know Now Why You Cry

Simon — Thu, 10 Dec 2009 19:58:35 +0000

Last week I watched Terminator Salvation, sat mostly submerged in a frothy bath of water with 4 lit candles and a glass of Banrock Station Cabernet Sauvignon (£7.99). Immediately a number of questions should be entering your mind.

Firstly: “What on earth is Simon – a man of no small stature with a testosterone count roughly equal to the cast of Predator – doing immersed in the sort of scenario you‘d encounter in an episode of Sex & The City?

Secondly: “£7.99 for Banrock Station? You’ve been ripped off mate”

Thirdly: “I wonder what Simon looks like naked?”

Fourthly: “How…

2000 – 2010: splintering scenes

hugh — Thu, 10 Dec 2009 09:30:45 +0000

Just reading this Guardian piece debating whether Pitchforks 200 albums of the decade is a significant list that we should take note of. The answer for me from both a music fan and cultural observer angle is yes definitely. Those guys went beyond the guitar based music with the odd exception mindset that the NME and Q had to one where any album, whether it was from a Norwegian disco producer or Brooklyn 4 piece was listened to and assessed on a level playing field.

I’ve got to be thankful to them for some of my…

EXCLUSIVE Norman Jay uncut interview

miguel — Thu, 26 Nov 2009 19:18:56 +0000

“Success has no taste, or smell, and when you get used to it, it’s as if it didn’t exist” says Huma Rojo in Almodóvar’s Todo Sobre Mi Madre. Tragically insatiable as human beings may / may not be, Norman Jay MBE seems momentarily appeased: “The Queen could have given me a chocolate biscuit, I’d still be happy”, he says, departing for once from his slick media-type tones into a 1970s Nottin’ ‘ill bubble.

Norman Jay, veteran DJ of house with a black flavour, is also co-founder of Kiss FM, the only black DJ to be awarded an MBE, and has…

The Party Post

barima — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 22:25:08 +0000

by Barima Owusu-Nyantekyi of barimavox.blogspot.com

Always wear something interesting to a party, even when it’s a costume. Parties are a dime a dozen for the average social animal, so don’t count on the atmosphere, guests and copious alcohol consumption to make it memorable (especially the last one, unless your braincells happen to be of singularly resilient genetic stock)

The most “young” party-friendly piece I own is the tailored tracksuit-derived jacket from Junya Watanabe Man S/S 07, which, perhaps too literally, puts the “sport” in “sportjacket.” At least a third of its brilliance rests in the fact that it’s publicly unwearable…

The Polar Bear Club of Coney Island

Matt — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 00:07:47 +0000

I recently took the half-hour trip across Brooklyn to visit Coney Island. Over sprawling neighbourhoods and cemeteries the F train rattled until it reached its final destination, a platform suspended on stilts with the sound of gulls and sniff of sea air. To the beach I walked, along quiet streets, packed away for the Winter months, past empty markets, fairgrounds and beer gardens, till I hit the boardwalk, the wooden arc and beating heart of Coney Island. To my surprise, there in front of me, gathered on the boards was a small group of smiling, half-naked men, clad in rubber…

New York….The Cutting Edge of Fashion

georgie — Sat, 21 Nov 2009 00:01:08 +0000

I know my first post should be intellectually stimulating, set the tone for deep and meaningful observations yet to come but i just couldn't resist sharing this fine fashion moment witnessed one Saturday on the New York subway. The yanks may be at the top of their game sartorially speaking but this guy is in a league all of his own! Nifty suit jacket...bit of ring bling...all topped off with possibly the most ingenious bit of head gear i could ever hope to exist. Forget the fedoras doily swimming caps are back in the game... please please please may this catch on!

Lil Wayne

Matt — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 20:48:03 +0000

I’ve been living in New York for a few months now. I can’t help but notice the widespread adoration for Dwayne Michael Carter, aka Lil Wayne. This does not just include preppy kids in average nightclubs, but intelligent, self-conscious connoisseurs of culture, such as my flatmate Greg, who prides himself on an encyclopaedic knowledge of all things, from the smell of children to lox bagels, roofies to Ryan Phillipe.

But when we bring up Lil Wayne, formerly of ‘Hot Boys’, he seems to melt like a knob of butter on Beyonce’s inner thigh. Why, I ask, do you worship…

So Fresh and So Clean

ricky — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 17:08:49 +0000

Until recently, I was never much of a shoe person. I prided myself on a fine DVD collection, yes, good taste in wine, women and culture…but not shoes. ‘Chumpy’ is a word that comes to mind when describing the shoes of my youth. I spent most of my University years watching close friends obsessing over and building up collections of trainers well beyond what could be considered for practical use. One such friend today has over 80 pairs, the only thing that he is insured for. [See above for the aforementioned individual]

Then suddenly, towards the end of last year,…

What would you do?

sam — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 15:15:16 +0000

A couple of weeks ago I was playing football for my Sunday League team, against some stunningly over-competitive old boys of Worcester College, Oxford. The second half of that sentence is totally irrelevant to the story, it’s just therapeutic to emphasise what utter gits they were.

Midway through the first-half, we trailed 2-1 when one of our forwards struck the ball into the face of an opposition defender. The referee – 32 stone, partially blind and with a mouth like a 15th century sewer – was unsurprisingly not in the best place to see what happened and awarded a penalty…