DAY SEVEN: The Show Must Go On

Unlike some of my more spontaneous endeavours, Day 7’s new experience is the result of much planning and preparation.  Two and a half months to be precise.  This is how long I have been rehearsing for a production of Anton Chekhov’s The Three Sisters, Bridewell Theatre 28th February – 3rd March.

Ok, so this is obviously a shameless publicity stunt, and I’m not even going to deny it.  But it definitely counts as a new experience.  Allow me to explain.  Despite having acted in many a theatre (some less theatre-like than others, admittedly) this is the first time I have performed at the Bridewell.  Within London’s fringe theatre scene, the Bridewell is a renowned space, not least due to the bulding’s impressive decor and vaulted ceilings which date from its former purpose as a Victorian swimming pool.  Nowadays, the theatre offers brilliant acoustics, impressive lighting capacities and a bar with a dangerously late license...

And so today, along with a dozen other talented (foolish?) thespians, I graced the Bridewell stage.  We have been working our little amateur socks off to bring Chekhov’s most famous work to life:  late night rehearsals, endless hours of painting and decorating and even transporting some bizarre props across London (now Day 5 makes sense!). And today we discovered if our efforts paid off, of if there will be a very eloquent Russian rolling in his grave.

Fortunately (and if I may say so myself), our performance was well-received.  But don’t take my word for it.  If you want to pass judgement for yourself, you have until Saturday evening.  At worst, you will see a bunch of hopefuls dressed in beautiful nineteenth century dress waxing lyrical about work and depression.  Alternatively, you may even enjoy yourself, and develop an interest in all things Ruski.

Day seven:  Perform on the Bridewell stage.  TICK!

Peace & Love,

Rich xx

DAY SIX: Talkin' 'bout a Revolution

For those of you not from London (or for those of you who are but who have been living in a cave of ignorance or apathy), certain areas of the Capital have been taken over by protesters and activists in a movement called Occupy London.  Their grievances range from financial cuts and corporate greed to social injustice and global oppression.  As such, the London Occupations have incited varied emotions from the city’s more orthodox inhabitants; some offer enthusiastic encouragement, others cynical criticism.

Although these so-called “Tent Cities” have been in place since October 2011, I have until now only witnessed them from a distance, offering solidarity from my seat on the bus as I rolled past.  So for Day 6’s new experience, I decided to cross the threshold of London’s most controversial campsite, and spend the afternoon dreaming of a better tomorrow with the rebels of today.

Welcome to the circus... 

With the eviction of the St Paul’s Occupation Camp dramatically looming, I decided to tread carefully and visit the less controversial site: Finsbury Square.  My welcome wasn’t exactly the warmest (though my suit trousers and on-trend trench probably didn’t help) and the “locals” took me in with uncertain trepidation.  Tensions in the camp are understandably high right now.  In light of the crisis at St Paul’s (fondly known as The School, I learnt), Finsbury Square faces an uncertain future. Will they be inundated with an unmanageable number of out-of-home activists?  Will they meet the same fate as its sister city? This predicament was explained to me by “Dave” (real name undisclosed for security reasons), a charming carpenter from Ireland who came to London for work, and ended up part of something much bigger.

Not your average Odeon

After simple introductions, Dave offered me on a quick tour of the Occupation.  Sights included the Cinema Tent (which looked more like a futuristic bomb shelter) and the rubbish area, located disturbingly right next to the make-shift “Kitchen”.  Niceties over, it was back to business.  Dave had the important duty of fixing a megaphone, something I had no clue about. Fortunately for me, Dave was equally stumped so we abandoned the megaphone, and got to work packing away a tent.  People come and go a lot in the camps, I was informed, and tents are constantly going up and down.  Dave himself had only been around for a month; another protester, who looked remarkably adolescent, had only joined the camp this week.  Half term holiday, perhaps?

Conversation about their lifestyle did not come easily with many of the tent-dwellers.  By now they had clearly had enough of being asked about how cold it gets at night and what they do for a toilet.  So, to avoid too much awkwardness, I eventually made my excuses and left the Occupation.  Not, however, before the obligatory cup of tea (this is still England, roof or no roof).  After a moment of waiting, I realised I was to go to the “Kitchen” and help myself. After all, it’s every man for himself in a revolution...

Day Six: Help change the world. DONE!


Peace & Love,
Rich xx

DAY FIVE: One For My Baby

Who's your Daddy?

Today, Ladies and Gentlemen, I became a father.  Experiment4Lent just got serious.

Ok, I'm totally kidding.

Other than embarking on a new career as a professional babysitter, this would probably be the most logical explanation for wheeling a Victorian-style pram around central London on a warm Sunday morning.  The reality is somewhat more bizarre and will be explained in due course.  Check back on Day 7 for the big reveal...!

When I was asked to look after a genuine antique pram (sans baby, I should add) for a day, it seemed like a brilliant new experience for Day Five of this blog.  I’ll admit, pretending to be a young father for the day wasn’t exactly what I envisaged doing when I started my 40 Day Challenge, but it seemed like a hilarious thing to do, and did indeed provide much amusement.  Posing with gal-pal Emily Lake as proud first-time parents on the steps of St Paul’s Cathedral; getting admiring looks from kind strangers; using my new-born as an excuse to barge past hordes of tourists.  It all proved more fun than I could have imagined.

Happy Families

A particular highlight occurred when a well-wishing old lady came to meet our little miracle.  Her coo’s of endearment turned quickly into oo’s of confusion when she was met with an empty pram.  Emily and I, of course, carried on like normal.  More fool her for making the gross assumption that a pram must contain a baby.  Combating prejudice, one stereotype at a time.  Rock on.

So today’s adLenture wasn’t exactly the most orthodox, but that’s exactly the point of these 40 Days.  And as well as making me laugh (a lot), taking on parenthood also provided me with a glowing insight into the future.  2013’s must have accessory?  The Vintage Pram.  You saw it here first, folks.

Day Five:  Chaperone a pram to the delight and horror of London's tourists. CHECK!


Peace & Love,
Rich xx

DAY FOUR: Boogie Shoes

“You can always judge a man by his shoes” goes the old adage.  Well, if that’s the case, my reputation is most likely in the gutter.  Too many of my shoes have been ruined by gaping holes, immovable stains or worn-down soles.  In London, the wettest city this side of Niagara, this can be a bit of an issue.  And so, to avoid a severe case of trench foot, I have decided to follow the advice of one-time chart topper Paolo Nutini, and get me some New Shoes.

In the spirit of my Experiment4Lent challenge, I couldn’t very well pop down to my local cobblers and buy any old pair of shoes, could I?  No no.  I must, by my own ruling, do something different and unique.  With this in mind, my challenge for Day Four was to design and create my very own pair of shoes.  Pretty nifty, eh?

Now, before you picture me toiling away in a designer’s workshop, or spending the day in an Aldo sweatshop, let me stop you right there.  In my usual relaxed (lazy) style, I created my new footwear from the comfort of my own bedroom.  With a little help from a brilliant website: www.mesfootwork.com

And if I may say so myself, I’m pretty chuffed with my efforts.  Given ultimate control over every detail, I didn't even think of holding back.  Understated colours?  Not likely.  Simple patterns?  Yeah right.  When I do things, I don't do things by half.  This might explain why, although only intending to buy one pair of shoes, I logged off with two.  Apologies, bank balance...

Check out my designs:

Inspired by Keith Haring's Graffiti 

The immensely colourful and cool prints of Graffiti artist Keith Haring provided the inspiration for my first order. Those little guys look like they're having such  a fun time dancing away at some multi-coloured party.  What better place for this "groovy" scene than my feet?  Talk about putting on your dancing shoes...

Tetris.  Awesome. 

Design number two: Tetris. Because... well, why the hell not?  

It will be another 10 working days before my new "threads" arrive  - just think of all the Lent experiences I'll have had before I get these bad boys on!  Here's just hoping they actually fit...  Fingers, and toes (#terriblepun), crossed.

Day Four:  make me some legendary shoes.  DONE!

Peace & Love,

Rich xx

DAY THREE: Bicycle Race

Look.  I'm going to be straight up with you guys.  Unfortunately, not every day of my 40 Day Challenge will be quite as remarkable as Day Two.  Firstly because London Fashion Week doesn't happen every day of the year (the clue's in the name...!), and secondly because I'm not certain that my liver/finances/sanity could quite bear it.  

So for Day Three, I decided to do something which would not only benefit my well-being, but also my bank account and good old Mother Nature.  For my daily commute to work on Day Three, it bid farewell to public transport, and jumped on my bike. 


I feel a bit of background info is needed here.  1) I work.  2) My office is about 6 miles from my front door.  Approximately 5.9 miles of which are busy, crowded London roads. 3) I cycle, but am what you would undoubtedly call a fair-weather cyclist.  Only at the weekend, and never during Rush Hour.  Until now.


8.20am: I set off from home.  On a quiet day the cycle would take no more than half an hour.  But at this time of the morning, with hundreds of other city-workers to contend with, a bit more time is certainly necessary to arrive by 9am.  Helmet safely on (safety first kids!), trousers securely tucked into my socks (#sexyandIknowit), it's time to hit the road.  Hopefully not literally.  A quick prayer and I'm off.  Will I survive??!!


9am:  Ok, so obviously I did survive.  That's probably no surprise.  But not without my fair share of near-misses and close shaves.  Trying to dodge past cars, taxis and what felt like hundreds of other petrified cyclists is no easy task.  And every time I had to pass a big, stinking London bus, it felt like this:

However, despite any stress, I have no lasting scars or traumas, and am glad to have saved on my bus fare.  Would I do it again?  Maybe in the future.  I'm not certain my colleagues could deal with my sweaty, disheveled appearance every day of the week.  What this little adventure has given me is some inspiration for different ways of getting to work, which I'll be experimenting with over the next 40 Days.  Before the rumour mill goes mad:  No, I will not be commuting by helicopter.  Sorry, people, I'm not that awesome.  Not quite. 


Day Three:  Cycle to work.  SORTED!

Peace & Love,
Rich xx

DAY TWO: Fashion

Suffice to say that my adLenture has kicked off to an epic start. 


When I conceived the idea for my 40 Day Challenge, I never once expected to be thrown into the deep end so quickly.  But that's exactly what happened.  It's only Day Two and I have already been overwhelmed with new experiences.  And it's all thanks to three little, but highly worshipped, words:


London. Fashion. Week.


Yesterday saw me grace the hallowed corridors of the British Fashion Council as I took part in what can only be described at the Holy Grail of all things Haute Couture.  The clothes, the models, the press, the hairspray: it was all there.  And so was I.  A LFW virgin  having to "fake it til I make it" as a connoisseur of trends and styles.  Talk about a Baptism of Fire.

Work it BABY!

Thanks to my relentlessly fab-u-lous friend Tom (www.tomprofessional.com), I gained unlimited access to all the VIP areas of Men's Day at LFW.  I knew the day would be one to remember after we bumped into über-camp Christopher Biggins on The Strand at 10am and air kissed until our cheeks were sore (incidentally, this had nothing to do with LFW or the events to follow, it was just a casual rendez-vous.  Nachrelly, Dahhhling.  Fast forward three hours, and I am sat with London's top fashionistas, scrutinising the collections of designers such as Lou Dalton, James Long (my personal favourite: lots of big scarves and patent trousers) and Oliver Spencer.  Going backstage after Oliver's show, the madness of fashion week truly hits.  Make-up artists and half-naked men abound, and every other person seems to have an entourage.  Erm, where was mine?  Maybe next year...

David Gandy.  Three words.  O.M.G.

Sipping champagne, talking to David Gandy (God, you did a good job on that one...) and getting photographed and filmed by about thirty different press wannabes seems like a distant dream now.  A dream that I was very reluctant to wake up from.  Well, at least I have a bag full of freebies to remind me of my little sashay into the world of Devils wearing Prada, and skinny boys and girls wearing names, not clothes. 


Day Two's new venture: shine at London Fashion Week.  DONE!


Peace & Love,
Rich xx

DAY ONE: Virtual Insanity

Good Morning All!


It's Day One, which means my first new experience begins right here.  And you are reading it.  For a long time now I have been trying to discipline myself into starting some kind of Blog (#strugglingartist) but - in my usual indecisive way - couldn't find the right subject matter.  Until now.  This new online 40 Day venture is very much an adventure for me, and I will be learning as I go.  So patience, please.  "Why write about this though?" I'm sure you are asking.  Well, I know with fair certainty that, if I were to keep this little experiment private, I would give up by Day Four (when you see this week's requirements, you'll understand).  By writing down my mad musings, a little bit of my conscious will hopefully make me obey my self-imposed rules.  Simples.  

Also, and here is where you all come in, my online postings will allow you to follow my "progress" step-by-step, and even recommend some exciting things for me to do (be nice...)  Join me in my Experiment4Lent adventure, and witness me rise to the challenge, or fail miserably and deactivate my Blogger account.  Either way, you get to point and laugh from the comfort of your keyboard, something which I know well all love to do....


So there we have it.  
Day One's new venture:  Start a Blog.  CHECK!


Peace & Love,
Rich xx

WELCOME TO EXPERIMENT4LENT!

So here goes...

The flour and eggs have been safely put away and Pancake Day - the glutton's favourite "holiday" - has come to an end.  It will be a whole year before we can once again gorge on as much Nutella as we can stomach.  This somber fact is no less somber than what follows Pancake Day:  Lent.  The dreaded 40 Days of attempting (and inevitably failing) to go without crisps/fags/chocolate/vodka/food in general.  Many a time have I tried to give up some (all) of the above.  Many a time have I failed.  So in the spirit of 2012 - allegedly our last year on the planet - I'm breaking the rules of Lent and depriving myself no more.  This year, I am to take on my own personal 40 Day Challenge:  "To try one new thing every day throughout Lent".  My daily goals will range from the culinary to the cultural, from the practical to the downright saucy (suggestions always welcome, especially the last category).  Join me in discovering if I will be able to keep it up and experience something completely new for the next 40 Days.  And why do this?  To make the slow arrival of Spring more fun and bearable.  To enrich myself (a little bit).  Basically, to Experiment4Lent...