2003-10-07 - 12:42 p.m.

The only gig we’ve played so far this year was in Exeter for their Ladyfest celebrations, along with our pals Spy 51, a local hardcore band and a very old-skool lesbian poet. So old-skool that she actually had a mullet and apologetically mumbled badly-rhymed verses about cats, the moon and non-objectified girlfriends over the mic. I badly wanted to support her, but it was ultimately just too painful and the room slowly emptied. Apparently the bar had strangely magnetic properties.

There were also knitting workshops going on quietly in the corners. I still haven’t quite worked out how knitting can be punk, but I could probably easily have my mind changed if someone knitted me a warm and subversive scarf or something.

The most notable thing about this gig, is that as a band (or me and Debbie at least) we seemed to think that we were playing on “Stars In Their Eyes”.

“Tonight Matthew, we will be the White Stripes!”

Apart from not being a stripped down nu-blues 2 piece from Detroit with much greater fame and fortune than our own, the resemblance was striking. Without prior consultation, Debbie had worn a rather suave white trousers and matching jumper outfit, while I’d decided that the Exeter was the appropriate first outing for a rather fine bright red silk affair that had been donated to the cause at the last gig.

Gotta hand it to the White Stripes, they do know plenty about simple and striking visual ideas and contrasting all red and all white outfits is a good one. The only annoying thing about it, is that they thought of it first. Bastards.

It’s not the only time that Smiffy and I have had a strange synchronicity in our wardrobes. She turned up at our joint birthday party (my 33 1/3rd + her 35th) dressed as me. Luckily she’s always late, so I didn’t arrive dressed as her...I am thankful for small mercies.

%%commentsembed%%previous - next

powered by SignMyGuestbook.com