Thursday 11th September 2025
Blog Page 441

Open for Business: the Reality of Easing Lockdown in London

0

19:10pm. After my fourth ‘casual’ walk past the pub entrance, I gain the courage to enter. I am faced with what looks like a barricade dotted with multiple signs reminding me about social distancing, and a small, well-guarded gap by a podium, where a face-masked member of staff sombrely takes my details and begrudgingly allows me to cross the threshold. Success! I have entered the fortress.

Our ‘Independence Day’ on 4th July (did we not already use this overly-pithy title for Brexit?) was met with joy from most in England, while Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland opted to follow a more tentative path towards reopening. Immediately by the morning of the 5th July, newspaper front covers were splashed with images of victorious, hearty Englishmen, downing pints on roads and lounging in the sun with friends. Unfortunately, however, it really does remain to be seen what extent of this ‘victory’ over COVID-19 is genuine, compared to the extent to which we have simply stretched the public’s patience too thin, or squeezed our economy too hard. Already, we have seen hints that this easing is not quite as victorious as it seems, with Leicester being placed into an elongated localised lockdown just a few days before the 4th July, and now the introduction of compulsory face coverings in shops from Friday 24th July, despite 20 days of mask-free shopping being allowed before this point. Although this really does seem to be a touch-and-go state of affairs, with these unprecedented conditions leaving us all fairly unsure of the best course of action (whether personally or in terms of government policy), it cannot be denied that the general atmosphere post-lockdown is buoyed, with the ongoing threat of coronavirus appearing to be almost forgotten in many public spaces.

Personally, the end of lockdown invoked a mixed reaction from me. I cannot begin to imagine how many times over the past few months I have bemoaned the lack of public spaces open to us; I missed my friends, I missed the freedom to walk around and socialise and meander into shops, and I really really missed Caffè Nero. Now, as I write this in an empty Caffè Nero, drinking a lukewarm flat white out of a takeaway cup, I can’t help but feel that the nostalgia is better than the reality. 

The major thing which has struck me is the sheer awkwardness of reopening. I had not realised quite how much of an art socialising is, and now that I’m out of practice after months of forced hermit-hood, I have the social know-how of a nerd in a 90s teen romcom. I have ghosted many friends and don’t really know how to justify this on reunion (not that we have much to catch each other up on). I am tired of the ‘nice to be open again’ chat which has replaced ‘not bad weather today, eh?’. I volunteer in a tiny charity shop once a week, and watching people navigate the one-way system floor arrows with their tartan shopping trolleys and prams is like some warped form of Mario Kart which developers rightly ditched one week into the project. I think this encapsulates the essence of reopening; nothing is quite the same, everything is a bit more difficult than it was, and nobody really knows what to do.

Perhaps we have to some extent evolved out of our dependence on public establishments and pastimes like shopping and eating out. In many cases lockdown has taught us how to enjoy a slower-paced lifestyle, maybe by spending more time alone, or more time in nature. I think we’ve also learnt to make a distinction between different types of socialising, with the closure of pubs reminding us that our friends are actually pretty interesting in their own right (shocking), and that maybe just interacting with them by going on a walk or sitting by a lake is more important than sourcing some form of diversion with them.

I suppose, at this point, that it is down to the individual citizen to do their bit to combat the spread of the disease when in public, by maintaining social distancing, wearing face coverings, limiting physical contact and frequently washing/sanitising hands. In reality, I think that one only has to have been in a pub once to know that this is not going to be the case. Never mind that none of these ‘compulsory’ actions can be policed or enforced; the very nature of going to pubs, restaurants, or bars, is to interact with those around you, and of course we can hardly eat or drink with a face mask on. In fairness, this is very sticky situation for our politicians; a second wave is, as scientists have said for months, inevitable, and to keep the economy in stasis until December and beyond, all while preparing for a fresh influx of cases, would put unfathomable strain on our already butchered financial state. This is clearly the chosen focus at this stage of the pandemic, as the Prime Minister has stated his reluctance to impose a second lockdown for this future wave, likening it to a ‘nuclear deterrent’ that he ‘certainly [doesn’t] want to use’. 

The general message of reopening seems to be to have fun, but not too much fun; spend lots of money, but preferably by card; if the second wave is bad, it’s your own fault. Really, this reopening is all very bittersweet. We have all been lusting after freedom from lockdown for months, but with this freedom being so stilted and doctored, alongside our grim march towards a second wave, it is undoubtedly freedom at one’s own risk.

Plant-based milks: a biased guide

0

With plant-based milks experiencing a global renaissance, there are a number of reasons why you might want to try one. Maybe you’re environmentally conscious; a glass of cow’s milk results in almost three times more greenhouse gas emissions than any alternative and consumes nine times more land, according to an Oxford study. Maybe you’re concerned about animal welfare; dairy cows are forcibly impregnated in order for us to consume the milk intended for their calves (I’ll stop there, at risk of accidentally turning this into a piece of vegan propaganda). Maybe you’re tempted by some of the other benefits of ditching dairy; better skin, better digestion, no weird hormones, longer shelf life. Or maybe, like me, you’re just a bit lactose intolerant, and would rather not wind up looking three months pregnant after a cup of coffee. 

So, you’re standing in the underwhelmingly small alt-milk aisle in Tesco. Where to begin?

Soy milk

I’ll start with the most well-known. A safe all-round option, soy has a similar consistency to cow’s milk, and is a particularly good replacement in baking, cereal and pancake batter. Its flavour varies depending on the brand, but you can’t go wrong with Alpro (sweetened, obviously, I’m not a Neanderthal), which has a mild vanilla-y flavour. Their barista version is less tasty, but works wonders in a latte – its high protein content allows it to microfoam and gives the same glossy finish as cow’s milk. 

You may have heard rumours about the isoflavones (plant oestrogens) in soybeans causing breast cancer or feminization in men (polite for “man boobs”). These are completely untrue – the dairy industry just loves to circulate them. In fact, if we’re getting scientific, hundreds of studies show that soy protects against both of these things, as the less potent plant oestrogen blocks our excess oestrogen from binding to receptors. The only concern about soy is that, like cow’s milk, it’s a common allergen – so that’s something to watch out for. 

Almond milk

Almond milk is a lighter and more refreshing choice; perfect poured over a bowl of cereal. It boasts 50% more calcium than cow’s milk (though most plant-based milks are fortified to contain the same nutrients as cow’s milk anyway). It can also be used in baking, mashed potato etc. Some add it to coffee but I wouldn’t – barista almond has a slightly tangy, bitter taste which doesn’t compliment the flavour of coffee at all. 

Recently, there has been a lot of discussion about almond milk’s sustainability (it uses a lot of water, and almond pollination puts pressure on bees and beekeepers). However, it’s important to keep in mind that the shortcomings of plant-based milks are insignificant compared with the environmental harm from dairy.

Coconut milk

There are two broad categories of plant-based milks; those that work as neutral-tasting replacements for cow’s milk, and those that are more noticeable. Coconut definitely belongs in the latter category.

I’m not talking about the super thick, tinned stuff that you might stir into a curry. This is the watered-down version that comes in a carton, but still manages to retain that distinctive creaminess. Coconut’s rich and exotic flavour lends itself well to breakfast and cream-based desserts, but it’s not one to keep as an all-purpose staple – I wouldn’t recommend it in coffee, unless you happen to enjoy coconut-flavoured coffee, which is just objectively grim.

Ethically, coconut milk can also be quite problematic, but not if you choose the right brand (one that’s certified Fair Trade and doesn’t exploit monkeys – most of the brands in UK supermarkets are fine). 

Oat milk (the winner)

Oat milk has surpassed almond milk as the fastest-growing dairy alternative, with its velvety texture and taste reminiscent of milk at the bottom of the cereal bowl (that’s a compliment). It’s not oversweet, the way soy can be. It performs well on all sustainability metrics. And it works as a perfect milk replacement in pretty much everything – especially coffee.

Swedish brand Oatly have seen their worldwide sales surge from $68 million in 2017 to over $200 million in 2019, with their chilled oat drinks; skinny, semi (my absolute staple) and whole. Their ‘controversial’ slogan “it’s like milk, but made for humans” got them sued by the Swedish dairy industry in 2015, but that didn’t faze them – their milk has become a barista standard in hipster coffee chains across the world. There is now a genuine website called Oatfinder which locates the nearest café stocking Oatly, just in case you’re wandering the North Pole and want to know how many kilometres you are from an oat milk cappuccino.

And the rest

I could go on – but we’d be entering more experimental (and expensive) territory. Rice milk: refreshing, sweet and neutral-tasting, but watery; you could pour a cup of it into black coffee and it would still be black. Hazelnut milk: delicious, but only really works in cereal – its flavour is too overpowering for anything else. Cashew milk: never tried it, sounds a bit pretentious. Tiger nut milk, pea milk, quinoa milk… alright, now you’ve got to be joking. 

People tend to adopt an all-or-nothing approach when it comes to plant-based milks. We talk about “making the switch”, as if picking up a carton of oat milk is synonymous with pledging to quit dairy for life. Most of the time, this isn’t logistically or financially feasible. “It’s about getting a lot of people to make small changes,” says Toni Petersson, Oatly’s chief executive, “and by doing that, creating a shift on a massive scale, rather than trying to turn everybody vegan.” 

Those who dismiss milk alternatives as a short-lived millennial fad should think again though – in a few years’ time, millennials will have the strongest spending power globally. Some say a worldwide shift towards plant-based milk is inevitable – the question is how fast.

Image via Flickr

Opinion: COVID-19 shows a missed opportunity to tackle the climate crisis

0

By now, there is little need to introduce the concept of ‘the climate crisis’ as scientists are (rightly) opting to refer to it as. Explaining why and how this process is occurring is far beyond the scope of this article. I will, however, acknowledge a few simple and increasingly irrefutable facts: the climate crisis is very real; very imminent and very much a product of human activity. Despite these facts, publications by those few rebellious research scientists never fail to provide ammunition to ill-informed politicians who, regardless of all their shortcomings, still do have opposable thumbs and access to a twitter account. For every step forward, we take two steps back (and then the United States, swiftly withdrawing from the Paris Agreement in 2017, takes 10 more).

It must also be stated that climate change is by no means the only environmental emergency born at our hands, and in many ways works to detract from issues such as declining biodiversity and plastic pollution. Our insistence, as a species, on categorising issues to make a very grey world seem black and white is educationally obstructive. Irrespective of the impacts on climate, we are losing species at an unprecedented rate. I have seen large companies to clear-fell diverse landscapes, blatantly ignoring local communities (in some cases having the audacity to blame them for the human-wildlife conflict we ourselves inspire by allowing impoverishment to persist). Subsequently, it seems that we praise the perpetrating loggers if they find it in their hearts to replant a measly palm oil plantation as substitute, branding the effort as sustainable. Welcome to the Anthropocene.

Westerners exist in a bubble of new age comforts obscuring the injustices happening all around us. Whilst some are entirely deprived of their basic human rights, others have progressed to invent whole new ones as an attempt to justify their obnoxious sense of entitlement (protesting protective legislation which makes facemasks compulsory, for instance). This exceptional ideocracy epitomises human selfishness. Unfortunately, not living in “a communist country!” (an argument used as defence against just about every ‘injustice’), seems wholly unrelated to the issue; last time I checked, Marx didn’t say all that much about pandemic etiquette in the Communist Manifesto. Though many try to distinguish themselves from the culture of disregard and exploitation deeply entrenched in our ideals, disregard and exploitation have thus far gone hand in hand with advancement. It’s advertised as difficult, in developed nations, to live both scrupulously and within your means without becoming a social pariah. Being an “ecowarrior” is attributed to another one of those student quirks pegged as ‘just a phase’. Something crunchy middle class kids with enough money to sit daily in hipster coffee shops sipping oat milk flat whites out of their reusable coffee cups do.

So, there it is, a bleak picture of an impressive species being eradicated much more rapidly than we dare to admit by our own self-indulgence. I am not by any means attempting to posit that every average joe out there actively works to intentionally destroy our earth. How we feel about the planet, and what we actually do to protect it, are two very different things. We have all the information we need; we have the solutions; we have the incentive. Why do we lack action? There are many suggestions, but (as per usual) the culprits on a large scale are unfavourable economics (taking precedence over human lives) and inefficient politics. Faceless agencies to cast ineffectual blame upon. Inefficient politics in fact seem to be a trademark of the 21st century so far. For citizens of the UK, two Prime Ministers down since 2016, the only reason we have stopped hearing the word ‘Brexit’ every waking hour of the day is due to attention being temporarily diverted to the inconvenience of a global pandemic.

In 2008, the concept of a ‘Green New Deal’ was first suggested. An ambitious suggestion, cleverly drawing on Roosevelt’s New Deal a century ago, linking to the aspiration of tackling “fear, anxiety, instability, insecurity, and precarity.” Finally! Recognition that ecosystem security and social class inequality go hand in hand, policy striving beyond the concept of decarbonisation and pushing for accountability. Obviously, this was disbanded. Mere threads were left dangling for activists to clutch onto as Europe generously invested in a ‘Green Deal’ programme instead, quite literally removing any trace of the word ‘New’ and characteristically rife with accusations of corruption. Most controversially, the European Commission lies snugly tucked up in bed with commanding companies such as the US investment fund Blackrock (who have a clear vested interest in, you guessed it, fossil fuels…). A political climate where governments are slaves to enormous multinational corporations increasingly fates a top down approach to greening the economy as improbable. Nonetheless, you have to hand it to politicians, untrodden terrain has been cautiously traversed, unprecedented action has been taken (albeit haphazardly, sporadically and a little too slowly). Yet in the back of our minds lingers the sinister truth, Covid-19 is a trial run. Frankly, in our global society, it’s shocking an event of this scale has not already unfolded.

Alongside screams for a return to normality there is a whole other kind of discontent rising, a subset of people (silenced by media preference to continually report on the ‘daily experience of a shopper in Covid-19’ for the 6th time in a row) who instead champion a ‘new normal’. The implications of that someone allegedly eating a bat over 5000 miles away in Wuhan causing the entire world to come to a halt should be enough for us to appreciate our very real interest in the state of public health and welfare overseas. Realistically, we should now be thinking, “Jeez, we really need to push education and sustainable development internationally”. In reality, a flood of racism directed at Asian ethnic minorities has transpired. Blame has been cast. The President of the United States has publicly used derogatory slurs, referring to the virus as the “kung-flu”! It speaks volumes not only that this is the example set by the White House, but that we have become so accustomed to such displays that the public expect nothing less. Of course, we shouldn’t be so hasty to cast blame. For every individual in power, there’s a large enough or passive enough support base to put them there.

Put bluntly, those in control don’t really seem to care about the environment. What I see being prioritised right now is an upsurge in economic activity, to ‘eat out to help out’, to keep on singing happy birthday as you wash your hands. Yes, Covid-19 has seen some extremely short term reconnections with nature. When life begins again, as is increasingly demanded, it won’t take long before we have better things to do than to stop and smell the roses. Instead of capitalising on unrest, COP-26 has been postponed to 2021 (missing a vital opportunity to go digital and set an example). In an attempt to get things back up and running in the US, Trump has made regressive changes to the National Environmental Act and has completely missed the memo that global communication in a global society is imperative, withdrawing funding for the World Health Organisation. The New Green Deal seems nothing but a pipe dream.

Dismal prospects for sustainability is not the note I intend to end on. For anyone who has ever stated that there is no point in acting, that it won’t change anything, that one person never made a difference, I ask you to point to a revolution in history that didn’t spark from individuals simply saying no. We fuel the consumerist society we live in, we create the demand for products which destroy the planet. As individuals, we need to think more considerately about the legacy we leave behind. Companies cater to consumers; the consumers are just as culpable. ‘Crunchy middle class kids’ aren’t where this ends. Those with the means to invest in cleaner energy or electric cars have a social responsibility to do so. Those without these means are not helpless victims- we can all, for example, consume less meat and dairy. Next time you don’t recycle, next time you buy a plastic bottle full of a free commodity (water), next time you purchase chocolate from companies who keep cocoa farmers in poverty, think about which role you want to play in the future of humanity. We have access to information, a reason to ask questions, no excuse for being passive.

Readers can check out the following petition to rebuild the economy out of lockdown with a Green New Deal.

https://petition.parliament.uk/petitions/317343

Artwork by Rachel Jung

UCU accuses Oxford University of withholding health and safety information

0

The University and College Union (UCU) has criticised Oxford University’s reopening procedures, saying they are withholding health and safety risk assessments. The University refutes these claims.

Reopening universities includes producing risk assessments, which identify possible areas of concern and lay out contingency plans. Departments work with the University and staff to create these assessments, which are subsequently circulated to staff within the department. However, Oxford’s risk assessments are not currently shared with the UCU.

The UCU told Cherwell: “We have made it clear that we find the university’s approach and refusal to share risk assessments with us, as guidance and agreement says, unacceptable.”

In an email seen by Cherwell, the UCU wrote to the Vice-Chancellor Louise Richardson that the University “has not been forthcoming with necessary information and that there has not been meaningful consultation with our Branch.” The UCU requested that the University share risk assessments for Departments, Faculties, and Schools, along with equality impact assessments, in order to “engage in dialogue with the University about what improvements to arrangements could be made.”

The UCU represents faculty and staff at universities, colleges, and other educational institutions across the UK. It is one of three trade unions recognised by Oxford University, the others being Unite and Unison, which represent support staff.

The University responded to the UCU via email: “The University has been clear from the start of lockdown that it is not practical or useful to share all risk assessments with the Oxford UCU. At a local level safety representatives are often involved in developing risk assessments and risk assessments are shared with all staff.”

The email further states that regular meetings are held with trade unions to discuss the University’s reopening strategy, where Departments have accepted feedback. The University continued: “The HMG guidance on employee consultation encourages consultation, but is clear that employers retain the right to manage.”

The government guidelines on reopening higher education institutions do not specify the role of trade unions. However, they reference an agreement between unions and educational institutions, which are represented by the Universities and Colleges Employers Association (UCEA), of which Oxford University is a member.

UCEA and trade unions issued a joint statement which outlined expectations for universities. This includes consultation “on staff health and safety, and about how the institution will manage risks from Covid-19 including regarding the re-opening of departments and services.” It further agrees that universities “will undertake appropriate risk assessments and review them in consultation with trade union health and safety representatives.”

Oxford University has told Cherwell: “The University is surprised by the national UCU’s claims as we are currently meeting every few days with our three recognised unions, including the UCU, to discuss in detail our approach to reopening. These meetings have been part of a regular constructive dialogue about the principles of safe return to onsite working, in line with government guidelines. This has included the University seeking and accepting feedback from the unions on HR and Health & Safety guidance documents in advance of sharing the guidance with staff. 

“As the University works towards reopening and continuing our vital role in world-class education and research, our number one priority is the health and well-being of our staff, students and local community. Staff are being kept fully informed of the extensive protective measures being introduced, including detailed guidance on risk assessments and returning to safe on-site working, which were developed in consultation with our unions.”

Image credit to Edgar Jiménez / Flickr

Oxford’s Independent Clothes Shops

0

Fast fashion and huge brands can often seem to dominate the fashion scene in Oxford and around the world. Independent retailers offer a great alternative which can be more sustainable, exciting and supportive of our local communities. This article gives an overview of some of Oxford’s independent shops so that come Michaelmas your fashion options are more varied than ever.

A Rosie Life is technically a lifestyle store, not a fashion store, but the jewellery and accessories they have on offer are beautiful. They stock bright and colourful bags perfect for a summer look as well as more everyday styles for laid back outfits. The jewellery on sale includes modern and simplistic necklaces meaning the shop offers pieces for both a minimalist look and a more vibrant one.

Eagle Vintage is, as you have probably guessed, a vintage shop. However this is a vintage shop with a twist. The shop is created to be an experience, set in a spacious venue. The founders wanted to make shopping vintage more enjoyable and easy, so that it becomes simple and less chaotic or jumble-sale-like. Being vintage means it offers a sustainable alternative to fast fashion as well as a great place to find high quality, timeless pieces.

Fresh is an independent boutique located in the covered market which sells clothing and accessories from British designers. The clothes on offer are of a more classic and traditional style, including classy summer dresses and pretty lace camisoles. However their jewellery section is vivid and varied. From simplistic shapes of gold and silver to colourful statement drop earrings to koala brooches and hairclips, there is something on offer for a whole number of styles.

Rainbow and Spoon boutique is a clothing store which was established in 1982. It is full of colour, and therefore definitely the place to go to escape the endless racks of monochrome tops so common in clothing retailers. They also sell fair trade items, making them a sustainable and ethical option for your fifth week blues shopping spree.

Exclusive Roots offers fair trade products made in Africa. Whilst they don’t sell clothes they do have a jewellery section with a range of brass earrings moulded into beautiful shapes and patterns. They ensure that their producers get a fair price and they reinvest their profits into their charity, Tabeisa. This charity supports the development of small businesses in disadvantaged communities in Africa.

Next to Nothing owner Sam Mellish told Cherwell that it is: “a bright exciting boutique”. The shop sells a variety of items, including original clothing, slogan T Shirts, accessories, and gifts. Whilst it is now located in the Covered Market, it started life as a stall in the 70s. Mellish told Cherwell: “Our shop is special because it is independent, and we can buy whatever takes our fancy! This means a variety of colours, prints and styles you won’t find in boring chain stores”.

Unicorn clothes shop is another vintage shop, located on Ship Street. First opened in the 80s it is known for being packed full of clothes. It is the place to go for hidden gems when you are in the mood to sort through piles of clothes to find the perfect item.

Retro room is the final vintage shop of this article. The shop includes vintage, designer, and second-hand items amongst its selection, offering both accessories and clothes over an expanse of three rooms. It boasts a massive variety of items meaning there’s something on offer for any occasion. Retro Room also offers you the chance to sell your own clothes at the store.

Ansari boutique is a shop offering unique patterns combined with bright colours on dresses, bags, accessories, and a whole number of other items. The bags and accessories they sell are covered with a variety of designs with the only consistency being the bright colours present throughout. They are located in the covered market and a great place to go for a burst of colour.

Review: The Chicks’ ‘Gaslighter’

0

Fourteen years since their last album, and 17 since they were effectively shut out from the country music industry, The Chicks (formerly known as The Dixie Chicks) have finally released new music – and it is as flawless as the wait has been torturously long.

Gaslighter, an album that stays true to their trademark sound and yet also sees them explore the realm of pop more than ever before, is one of the strongest records released this year and one of their strongest to date. The best-selling US female group have reminded us, in twelve stunning but equally heart-breaking songs, why their presence has been so sorely missed.  

The Chicks have always had a reputation for being unapologetically outspoken and bold. At a London show in 2003, lead vocalist Natalie Maines transformed the future of the band in just a few quick seconds when she criticised fellow Texan George Bush’s invasion of Iraq, saying they were “ashamed that the president of the United States is from Texas.” Immediate backlash followed – country radio refused to play their music, with some stations providing bins for fans to throw away CDs, and the trio faced countless death threats. Their comeback three years later, featuring the defiant single ‘Not Ready to Make Nice’, won five Grammys. More recently, Maines has taken to social media to openly accuse Trump of psychological manipulation.

In comparison with the force of this album, however, these instances feel mild at best. Gaslighter is brutally honest, with much of the material concerning Maines’ recent protracted (see: bitter and ugly) divorce, one so messy her ex-husband asked a court to block the record’s lyrics. It’s easy to understand why. He does not escape unscathed by any means: “You’re only as sick as your secrets / So I’m telling everything” (‘Sleep at Night’); “After so long, I learned to hold my tongue / And now that you’re done, I get to write this song” (‘Hope It’s Something Good’). For 47 brief minutes, Maines is in control of the narrative and refuses to hold back.

It’s hard not to find the intensity and specificity of Gaslighter’s lyrics staggering. They leave very little to the imagination, uncovering song by song, line by line, the details of her relationship’s deterioration. From the opening title track’s searing “Boy, you know exactly what you did on my boat” to the aptly named ‘Tights On My Boat’, details of an affair which ruined a twenty-year long marriage are slowly revealed, like cards of a hand. And it’s clear that Maines is holding all the aces. They range from the devastating – we learn that she met her then-husband’s girlfriend, a ‘fan’, backstage at the Hollywood Bowl and joked, unknowingly, that “you can love me as long as you don’t love my man” – to the painfully wry, with the biting “Hey, will your dad pay your taxes now that I am done?” Each crushing new revelation is richly fierce and unafraid – thank God the judge ruled in Maines’ favour.

Yet its fiery anthems would lose their impact were they not balanced by the record’s quieter numbers. The underlying theme of Gaslighter is one of suffering and loss – one moment taking the form of white-hot rage, relentless rapids of emotion; the next, the more withdrawn, still waters of self-reflection and contemplation. As transfixing as Maines’ incendiary anger can be, the gradual progressions and swelling choruses of slow-burners like ‘Hope It’s Something Good’ and ‘Set Me Free’ are just as enchanting. Tracks like these, delicately restrained and with hints of their bluegrass roots, are where the Chicks we know and love truly shine. With sisters Martie Maguire and Emily Strayer falling back on their classic fiddle and banjo, the heartbreak and hurt stand tall on their own without being washed away by overly polished production. As Maines’ voice wavers in moments of broken emotion, the three-part harmonies achieved, so characteristic of the Chicks, provide support, sweeping you away in the captivating rise and fall of her distinctive voice. The trio unflinchingly reveal to us their most raw and authentic side yet.

What perfects the record is how intentional its composition feels. This is a rare example of an album with no filler tracks – each song is made better by the last and plays an integral role in the story listeners are told. It’s a story of frustration and loneliness, of resentment caving into grief, of what it feels like to be betrayed by everything you once depended on for safety and protection. It’s a story not only about a marriage falling apart, but more universally about the inevitable trials and tribulations of life. Speaking to their ex-husbands, their children, and even their younger selves, the Chicks take us by the hand and lead us through a world filled with pain. They reassure but also prepare us for the forest fires we will not be able to outrun.

Despite its sombre message, Gaslighter is a celebration of the complexity of life, and especially of being a woman. Being sad and being angry aren’t mutually exclusive, they tell us. It’s that defiance, that refusal to distil hardships into a singular emotion, easy to cope with and pretty to look at, that makes the Chicks so compelling. Pain, in whatever form it takes, is an inherently human experience – callously labelling it unfeminine is to ignore this. The record instead chooses to revel in its beauty, ugly as it may feel. Women should get to have fun and be romantic, but should also get to be sorrowful and angry at the same time. The album unpacks this intricacy: poignant and aching at its core, but simultaneously indignant and cautiously hopeful. In a year of chaotic emotion, Gaslighter has come at a time when it is needed most.

With their latest release, The Chicks have returned resilient and vulnerable as ever. They may have tweaked their sound, but their heart has been preserved. Loving yet merciless, spellbinding yet uncompromisingly ferocious, this is The Chicks at their very best. It would be difficult to deny the album’s appeal to anybody, whether long-time Chicks fan or complete newcomer, whether angry or heartbroken or somewhere in between.

   

Image: Original image by g33kboi

Review: Bladee’s ‘333’

0

Bladee’s music is either airy transcendence – kitsch done perfect – or the worst thing you’ve ever heard. Autotuned, breathy rapping over cloudy, mellow instrumentals tends to incite this kind of polarisation. His newest album 333 brings the stellar production of long-time collaborator Whitearmor together with Bladee’s unusual, off-kilter vocals under a happier, optimistic, and spiritually-tinged banner. The 16-song, 37 minute LP is thus a sincere, unexpected yet familiar shift in direction from an artist at times derided as the apotheosis of vapid, shallow Soundcloud emo-trap.

Fans of Drain Gang (a Sweden-based collective also featuring musician/fashion designer Ecco2k, rapper Thaiboy Digital, and producers Whitearmor and Yung Sherman) have long been attuned to Bladee’s fascinating, fragmented, distinctly postmodern universe. His earliest recognition occurred adjacent to that of the ironic, nostalgic cloud rap of fellow Stockholmer Yung Lean; debut album Gluee (2014) is not unfairly summed up by the frequent comments on his Instagram mourning the “old Bladee rapping about magic and swords and shit that doesn’t exist”. If his initial persona bordered on goofy, his movement to a darker, somewhat melodramatic sound on Eversince (2016) and Red Light (2018) was panned by some for being difficult to take seriously. Certain motifs emerge across his songs, whether channelled into hypnotic escapism or depressive humour: a self-hating consumerism, dreams, abortive romances, loneliness, ascension, garbage, the seduction of mind-numbing drugs. Even without buying fully into the mythos imposed by fans, these various discernible recurring themes enrich the emotions at the forefront of his music, all within imaginative spaces he constructs (a fictitious ‘Rainworld’, the heavens, hypercapitalist shopping malls).

333 explores a number of sounds, from more minimalist, indie-folk on the first track, hyper-pop (à la PC Music), and even glitch hop on the album’s first half, without a significant departure from his frigid, more ethereal soundscape. Elsewhere, the drum breaks and synths are familiar, trap-like when Bladee breaks into chorus.  Even a glance at the colourful, child-like album art (designed for the first time not by Bladee, but by London artist and designer Claire Barrow) confirms the album’s nature, as a dizzying, colourful array of sounds, pop culture references, and haphazard influences; some symbols remain esoteric, yet are mobilized towards a heartfelt affirmation of the self and the seeking of internal peace and love. Nevertheless, the art remains collage-like and abstract, as per previous albums.

The opening track, acoustic-heavy ballad ‘Wings in Motion’, evokes gentle movement and growth: “ripples broken, wings in motion”, repeats Bladee over a twinkling, swelling instrumental. Religious icons come into focus on the second track ‘Don’t Worry’ (“Two white doves, mix my blood with your blood”) and these are cleverly mixed with rap clichés on later songs (“Out the gate, like Messiah/Crown around my head in barbed wire”). This interplay between lofty references and mundane, bare bodily existence is continued from earlier albums.

Elsewhere, Bladee’s vocals are noticeably different from Eversince and Red Light, in which the autotune had been dialled up to 11, for a robotic subordination to frigid instrumentals. Here, he brims with a certain confidence (unfounded, for some), giving his voice space even as the characteristic autotune remains. At times, his singing caricatures the saccharine pop of the early 2000s, a direction birthed out of collaborations with Hannah Diamond and hinted at in past singles (“In the back of the club with the bad girls/the mean girls, the bad girls”). Bladee’s cheekily experimental attitude towards gender personas is refreshing, even catchy. He hits a vocal range long-time listeners might be surprised by on ‘It Girl’, exploring the gendered paradoxes of success and power (“In this world, you gotta work to be an It Girl/Are you down to let it go? we can do it/8 hours in the dark, I’m in the Rainworld…”).

Some moments also fall flat. Over beautifully layered synths he breathlessly speaks of “endlessly reflecting in your gaze/drop the mirror and it breaks/seven years, seven tears, seven different heavens”, but the backing vocals on ‘Noblest Strive’ are less of the choir Bladee hopes for and more reminiscent of the 4am-in-the-bedroom, weird-guy persona he both embraces and transcends. ‘Oh Well’, a mantra to keep moving forward, is another song which moves from ‘great’ to ‘good’ on account of his clumsy adlibbing (‘unh, unh’, he almost moans in his second verse), in spite of the sublime production and hopeful message. Nevertheless, part of the album’s charm lies precisely in this bizarre, even jarring juxtaposition between the heartfelt confession of Bladee’s lyrics and the semi-ironic plasticity of his delivery. A few other tracks hence deserve mention: the wave-like, high-pitched trap of ‘Reality Surf’, the repetition on ‘Extasia’, the slurred vocals on medieval-sounding penultimate track ‘Only One’.

333 might best be understood as another chapter in Bladee’s exploration of emotions, moving away from a jouissance in sarcastic nihilism and towards more positive, upbeat themes of acceptance – a kind of renewal and ego death.  Love him or hate him, the strange allure of Bladee remains.

(Image rights: https://www.flickr.com/photos/thecomeupshow/25403804704 image by Drew Yorke courtesy of The Come Up Show, image cropped from original)

Rhodes Must Fall Oxford demands statue falls in 2020

0

Rhodes Must Fall Oxford continues to campaign against the statue of Cecil Rhodes, demanding a definite removal in 2020, following Oriel College’s announcement that its independent Commission of Inquiry will not submit its final report until January 2021.

Oriel has stated that the Commission “has license to consider a full range of options for the statue.” The Governing Body voted in June to support the removal of the statue.

RMF Oxford’s recent action has been ‘Freedom Summer’, a series of protests taking place around Oxford. It also emailed all heads of colleges requesting that they contact Oriel to demand that the statue is removed in 2020 and is covered until its removal.

RMF Oxford have so far only received a response from Somerville College. The head of Somerville, Janet Royall, told RMF Oxford that she welcomed the Independent Commission of Inquiry.

Somerville College’s Governing Body stated on 17th June that they welcomed “the decision by Oriel that they wish to take down the Rhodes statue.”

RMF Oxford noted in its communication to heads of colleges that so far only Baroness Valerie Amos has been outspoken against the statue. Baroness Amos is the new Master of University College, and is the first black Master of an Oxford college.

Amos told BBC Breakfast: “We shouldn’t airbrush history, but I don’t think you need a statue of Cecil Rhodes to help you to have a conversation about that history. I would take it down.

“This is a man who was a white supremacist. An imperialist. He founded a company that made money through slave labour in the mines, and you’re telling me that we have to put up a statue of this person, glorify their memory to have a conversation about our history and the messy complexity of that history. You don’t need a statue.”

Heads of colleges signed a letter in June expressing their support for Black students and acknowledging the “collective failures to address attitudes and behaviours which amount to discrimination”.

This was in response to an open letter, written by Common Ground Oxford and signed by over 10,000 people affiliated with Oxford University. This letter stated that “the University has made only inconsequential inroads into tackling the material legacy of imperialism,” noting that the statues of Christopher Codrington and Cecil Rhodes still stand in the University. Rhodes was not mentioned in the University’s response.

RMF Oxford said: “We have heard from several loud voices at the University (Oriel, VC and Chancellor) who have taken to the press to either delay efforts to decolonise Oxford or going so far as to ventriloquist anti-oppression icon, Nelson Mandela, in an effort to silence the movement.

“There has been a deafening silence from heads of Oxford colleges on the issue of Decolonisation, specifically denouncing white supremacy and the veneration of white supremacist symbols at Oxford. Last week we sent a letter to all heads of college imploring them to break that silence, like the first Black woman Master (Baroness Amos) has done. We have been met with out of office responses, silence or avoidance.”

In the letter to heads of colleges, RMF Oxford wrote: “We believe that the issue of Rhodes has come to be a stain on the fabric of our academic community. The persistence of his uncritical adornment of Oriel College threatens to tear at the delicate fabric of inclusion and democracy woven together by decades-long efforts of numerous people across the Collegial University. The time has come to take bold steps towards living the values of our University and the global community.”

Oriel College told Cherwell that the College will not take any action or make any statements regarding the statue until the Commission has completed its work.

“But where are the bonnets?”: Little Women and historically inaccurate costumes

0

In case you didn’t know, Little Women (2019) won Best Costume Design at the most recent Oscars and there are a good number of people who are tremendously annoyed by this. They generally don’t complain about the aesthetic of the movie, instead their focus lies with the historical accuracy of the movie or, rather, the lack of it.

Particularly vocal is Micarah Tewers who, on her YouTube channel with over 1.2 million subscribers, posts videos showing the clothes she makes, some of which are inspired by clothes seen in movies and on awards show red carpets. In an 18-minute video, she rants about why Little Women didn’t deserve the Oscar for Best Costume Design, commenting on the many historical inaccuracies and costume choices that she feels do not add to, but detract from the movie. I love Micarah and her videos, but I don’t agree with everything she says. However, what’s most important is that Micarah’s criticism leads us towards debate over historical accuracy in film – and whether we consider it integral to the cinematic experience.

Micarah points to many historical inaccuracies that frustrate her, bonnets being one of them. The film decidedly lacks bonnets, despite them being a key fashion item of the day. The hair of the Marchs’ is down when it shouldn’t be, and side parted when a middle parting was the only way to part your hair. The colours of some garments wouldn’t have been available at the time. Laurie’s romanticised clothes don’t escape judgement either. Little Women is not a textbook historical vision of the 1860-70s.

Credit Wilson Webb/CTMG

Little Women, as with any movie, has to battle with realism. A movie rarely wants its viewers to be preoccupied with the fact that it isn’t real. Films need to be an immersive experience. If the March family walked around in jeans and t-shirts, it would immediately take us out of the experience of the film because we would be constantly focused on how wrong it was.

However, directors should not be confined to realism. The fact of the matter is that a period drama, or any movie set in certain time, does not need to be historically accurate. A film is an artistic expression and should be treated as such. There needs to be a balance of stylistic and creative intent and realism: it’s fine to have inaccurate elements so long as the viewer’s experience is not worsened by it. Both historically accurate and inaccurate elements should be seamlessly embedded into the movie. A movie that manages this well is A Knights Tale (2001). The film is set in medieval Europe, yet has modern music and fashion influences; nobody bats an eyelid at this because this adds to the quirkiness of the film and the modern moral of social mobility.

I actually love it when movies are deliberately inaccurate in order to achieve the correct emotional response in their audience. Satine’s outfits in the Moulin Rouge! (2001) frequently misrepresent the fashions of the Belle Epoque era the film is set in. Turn of the century dancer outfits would not be scandalous to us today and were Satine to be clothed in these garments, we would lose essential characterisation and understanding to historical accuracy. Instead, the costumes in the Moulin Rouge! are sexy by modern day standards, with hints to the era in which it is set. The movie creates the right response all while keeping the audience immersed. Something similar was done with the dance sequence in ‘The Favourite’ (2018). As we are not in the 18th century we cannot quite comprehend what was socially acceptable, modern or scandalous back then. Instead of relying on Queen Anne’s reaction to show how bizarre and modern the dancing of Colonel Masham and Lady Sarah was, the dancing was made bizarre and modern by our standards instead. Yet crucially, while historical accuracy is sacrificed to enhance the audience’s experience, we are still not taken out of the reality of the movie.

So, I’m going to have to disagree Micarah on a few things. I think losing the bonnets was a good idea. I think, to the modern-day viewer, bonnets look restrictive and old fashioned. They would not allow the characters to be as accessible as I believe the film wishes them to be. For me, the mix-match of fabrics and garments adds to an overall patchwork effect – the March’s were poor and making do with what they had. The colours of the costume, and the entire film, are used to convey mood and memory. A warm, rose tinted lens shows the March girls’ childhood (or perhaps just the events of book that Jo writes), and a cold blue lens focuses in on their real adult life. So, I don’t mind that there were unrealistic dyes in the movie.

Also, I think the movie plays with a lot of costume shorthand. These cinematic tropes allow us to quickly engage with the movie by referencing previous ideas and imagery. Laurie’s billowing white sleeves and floppy hair tells us quickly that he is a romantic person, evoking ideas of love and visions of poets. This does much to establish him as a romantic lead. Jo picking up her skirts and running down the street would have been shocking, if not totally unrealistic at the time. To us, however, this shows that she cannot contain herself within the restrictive ideals of the time and is actively trying to push herself and her society, not caring what the world thinks.

That said, not all of the costumes in ‘Little Women’ are brilliant and well thought through. In this respect I do agree with Micarah. A frequent issue is that the costumes don’t effectively reflect the characters. For example, Meg is driven by the idea of being a respectable lady within society but her clothes don’t always suggest this and are often quite unconventional. Her pink ball dress is supposed to be a rejection of the modesty Marmie had taught the girls, yet, compared to the other dresses, she has one of the more modest dresses at the ball. After Jo burns her hair, she complains about having to wear a bow in her hair, yet in later scenes, she does so anyway. Characterisation is so important in costume and it’s sad that the film often doesn’t deliver in this regard.

Photo credit: Wilson Webb; © 2019 CTMG, Inc. All Rights Reserved.

One of the greatest missed opportunities for the Little Women costume department was the fact that between the childhood of the March girls and their adult life there was no significant change in style. In the 1860s, the fashion was big hooped skirts, which moved to a bustle by the 1870s. This isn’t a major issue, however, as director Greta Gerwig decided to go for a non-linear plot and to use the same actors to portray the characters both as children and adults, referencing the changing fashions would have made for clearer distinction between the two time periods. Because honestly, if you didn’t know the story and recognise the cinematic switches between childhood and adulthood, the film might become really confusing.

I do like the costumes in Little Women’s and I often found them breath-taking to look at; I don’t know about anyone else, but I practically dream about Amy’s blue dress and cape. Not having watched many of the other Oscar nominees for Costume Design, I can’t make a huge statement on whether Little Women did or didn’t deserve the award. However, Micarah’s rant, and the complaints of others knowledgeable about costumes raise an interesting issue in cinema. Realism in movies is hard to get right, because as soon as you get the realism wrong, the audience will think of little other than how wrong it is. This is why I think the key to realism is to include an element of unrealism – the inclusion of something extraordinary or something that the audience hasn’t experienced allows it to go unnoticed when inevitably, a shot at realism is a few degrees off.

For people in the know, and there always are people in the know, glaring mistakes will occur and detract from films. For example, as an ex-competitive swimmer, I watched Sex Education and every time Jackson’s swimming was mentioned, I cringed and immediately felt distanced from the drama emotionally as I could only think about how inaccurate it was. So, I understand why historical fashion commentators are annoyed by historical inaccuracy in costume more than everyone else; it’s difficult to move past mistakes when movies are trying hard to be realistic, but you can spot their failures. However, for the everyday viewer, caught up in the cinematic magic, these tiny mistakes and discrepancies are really not that big of a deal.

Photo by Wilson Webb/Columbia/Sony/Kobal/Shutterstock.

‘Lockdown made me do it’: the sustainable benefits of getting crafty

0

A month into lockdown, I found myself curing my boredom by browsing clothes online and inevitably buying outfits for occasions I wouldn’t celebrate. Safe to say Parkend Wednesdays will not be on the cards in Michaelmas, and a ‘Great British’ summer will probably not materialise either. Two months into lockdown, I decided that it was time to finally tackle my bedroom. 

A common cliché is ‘tidy house, tidy mind’; with that attitude, I opened my wardrobe. Sifting through it unearthed some too-small treasures of years gone by, shoved into the back of a cupboard and forgotten. Other discoveries were less promising; I’m sure many will relate to the fact that despite your mother’s bold claims that ‘the dress looks lovely’, the dress, in fact, did not look lovely. For someone with a distinct lack of practical skills, the mission to transform these finds into something I might actually wear felt a little bit daunting. But I cracked on with it; if people were making a small fortune on Depop and Etsy (occasionally funded by me) by selling vintage and up-cycled clothes, I might as well try doing it for myself on a budget.

The phrase ‘arts and crafts’ brings back distinct memories of primary school, tiny red-handled safety scissors and glitter just about everywhere except the page. Equally, the thought of making or altering a piece of clothing start to finish felt like something that my (far more talented) grandma would always do in front of the telly and distinctly unattainable to one girl armed with just some questionable garments and no sewing machine. Nevertheless, I got a needle and thread out and went for it. Taking a pair of scissors to a pair of trousers you remember costing you a certain number of hours of work could have ended in disaster… but, it didn’t. Proud at myself for succeeding at something (admittedly very simple) I’d never done before – altering an item of clothing I no longer wore into something I liked once again – I decided I would take this time to teach myself to do more.

I’ve hardly reached great heights of creativity, but I’ve made things I’d abandoned fit me again and created unique items. Tiny tasks like turning a skirt from a low-waisted one to a high-waisted one with a few stitches, or re-hemming trousers to make them more flattering would not have occurred to me a few months ago, especially with forgotten clothes that I’d already dismissed as unfashionable. In braver moments, I managed to transform a skirt that however much I tried couldn’t make fit properly into a top, a far too big dress into a top.

On one especially quiet afternoon, I threw caution to the wind and decided that tie-dyeing, inspired by something I’d seen on social media seemed like a great idea. Simply by cropping, hemming and taking in various items, it feels like I’ve gone out and bought a whole new piece of clothing. Lockdown has given me the opportunity to do stuff which really isn’t radical, but equally requires confidence and time to do.

Finding potential in things that I’d let hang in my wardrobe made me realise how guilty I can be of commodifying fashion. Even while I make an effort to buy second-hand, the closure of shops in lockdown makes this a lot harder. Looking at what I already have and finding forgotten items is making me consider how much of my wardrobe I actually wear. So many of us are guilty of not wearing things to their full potential and buying new things instead because of their rapid availability and low cost. By sitting down to alter an item of clothing, even in a completely amateurish way, you realise how much work goes into making something really simple, and question how the prices of fast fashion can possibly be justified. 

According to a report on the fashion industry from consumer analyst Hitwise, fast fashion from leading retailers, especially those online, such as Shein, Nasty Gal, Missguided and PrettyLittleThing, account for 66% of all traffic in the fashion industry. Last summer, Missguided was advertising a ‘miracle’ £1 bikini, a product that simply couldn’t be justified as paying a minimum let alone living wage. Whilst the ethics of fast fashion are often focused on things such as the carbon footprint of a piece of mass-produced clothing, the Coronavirus crisis and investigations into social distancing in the industry have shed a spotlight on the conditions inside factories. As seen with Leicester’s Boohoo factory in recent weeks (a city just coming out of a localised lockdown), an undercover reporter at the Sunday Times reported that workers could be expected to receive just £3.50 an hour in unsafe, overcrowded conditions, a fact that Boohoo has been unwilling to confirm. The Independent’s Lauren Bravo reported that according to The Lowest Wage Challenge, globally less than 2% of people who make clothes for companies whose selling point is a low cost earn a living wage, a fact often skirted around by companies who justify this by paying the local minimum wage, a very different thing to the actual living wage. 

It is so easy in lockdown to spend money you might have spent out and about in normal life on new clothes. The websites for brands such as Topshop and Asos have been flooded in the past few months with editorials on lockdown dressing, with branding using the pandemic to market everything from loungewear to workout clothes for 9 am with Joe Wicks and ‘night-in’ outfits. The availability of fast fashion at the push of a button is trapping us in a cycle of buying and disposing of clothes far too regularly. With all the time we now have at home, let’s use it to consider how we can have a more sustainable attitude to how we dress, and even (dare I say it) give making your own a more modern and slightly cooler rep.

All images by Sophie Wright.