Big Apple Brixton

As winter well and truly owns the November skies, it’s nice to see venues keeping up appearances. Formally Brixton Beach, this South London rooftop is bringing the Big Apple to the big smoke for an appropriate seasonal makeover.

Located above Pope’s Road, this interpretation of the concrete jungle we all know and love has done a great job in capturing the big lights, bold signage and stateside vibes.

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Though you can leave your passport at home for this American adventure, you might confuse yourself for being in an airport when it comes to security checks. Lets face it, most of us are quite accustomed to feeling like a modern day Mary Poppins when heading anywhere midweek. But unless my hard drive, an old metro copy and my empty tuppaware are criminal, there was really no need to get bicep deep in my tote. Unless she felt compelled to attempt a dig to the Statue of Liberty. Because that’s what that level of privacy invasion felt like.

Keeping up with the weather is difficult for any establishment. But being a pop-up, outdoor (but covered) venue open for the duration of the colder months, you’d think they’d take that into consideration when deciding how many heaters it’d need to keep the premises warm. Yes, I know that’s virtually impossible with a canopy roof mid November, but I can tell you know, three aren’t quite suffice for several hundred people to gather around. Unless you’re down with that level of privacy invasion. It’s certainly a way to make friends…

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In an attempt to keep warm we wandered around, exploring all Brixton’s answer to New York has to offer. Quirky rooms dressed as a vintage Barber shop, a Chapel, a Record Store and Peep Show are available to hire complete with tables, chairs and fun decor. Though we didn’t have one ourselves, we were told that if booked, your drinks are ready on arrival. Plus, each is combination lock operated and only your party is given the code. Meaning that you can come and go as you please without the fear of an American gangster breaking in.

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Now for something that’s usually my favourite topic: FOOD. On a Thursday evening, only three out of the four vendors were open – meaning Pizza was out of the question. With a sterling choice of Mac to the Future, Plucky’s or Burger Bear – it was chicken that I felt my tastebuds would thank me for most. Turns out, my stomach was not quite the fan. When ordering my food, the guy who appeared to be in charge of the stand was beyond rude. Myself, along with the girls I was with, were completely taken aback by his attitude and manner. We had to ask if it were okay to order… We ordered… He silence led us to ask whether we had made our orders… And then ten or so minutes later, our burgers and nuggets were ready on a heated bar – awaiting their arrival of chips. The chief brought the basket over from the frying pan and began serving them equally onto our portions – HELPING HIMSELF TO SOME TOO!!!!! I mean without sounding too much like Joey Tribbiani… But I’m not sure we ever gave the okay for sharing our grub. It’s not common practise. And that’s because it’s just plain rude!!!! Shocked, we sat down and began to tuck in… To a very short-lived meal. We had uncooked chicken nuggets and the salt in the chips made it feel as though we were sipping seawater on the side. Not ideal.

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Either this vendor needs a stern talking to or another street food pop-up should take its place. Because when faced with the question of did it #CrackMyBitchFace, that’s an easy no. I mean shivering whilst mentally begging the chip-stealing chef to leave my burger with a couple of mates isn’t really something that encourages a positive look upon my face. And in hindsight, perhaps my resting bitch face was the reason as to why he took it upon himself to be a chip scrooge. When such effort has gone into smashing the mulled wine recipe and making the place look good – it was definitely a bit of a shame.

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“I thought you hated me when I first met you…”

Typically annoying CBF remark no. 17, first received when I was 12 years old.

*Insert deep inhale and exaggerated sigh here*

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Oh that old chestnut. The honest answer to this is: If you chew your food loudly, are the type of person that claps your hands when your plane lands/your film has finished in the cinema or you wear kitten heels – then your observations are probably true. You get on my tits.

However if none of the above applies to you then chances are you’re quite mistaken. And you’re just on the unfortunate receiving end of my face when it’s taking a rest. No biggie.

It’s often thrown at me when I’ve been in the company of the said person for a number of weeks or months. When they finally feel comfortable enough to confront me about the ice-cold glare that takes over my appearance when I’m daydreaming. They’ve wanted to address the situation for a while, but due to my look 78.4% of the day, they weren’t too sure of the repercussions.

“So what’s with that look you give?”

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Fellow victims completely get it. We have this understanding. So when we’re about to cross paths with someone that looks as though they’re about to go Naomi Campbell on us, we know there’s more to the story. That it’s nothing more than a mere case of innocent evils. In fact, if we both weren’t so busy thinking about what our next meal is going to be, we’d probably sense the forthcoming encounter and high-five our co-sufferers. Because it’s a tough world out there, regardless of resting bitch face. And girls should be nice to one another.

We can’t help the laziness in our cheekbones. The gaze that strickens our eyes. The perfectly horizontal position of our mouth. Our natural bitch faces shouldn’t be judged. It’s just the construct of our appearance when we’re neutrally engaged. So if you find yourself in a situation, where you’re not sure if someone you’ve recently become acquainted with actually likes you or not, just stop. Analyse the predicament and ask yourself these three things:

  1. Are you sure you didn’t cut them up on the tube?
  2. Are you positively certain you didn’t push in front of them in Pret?
  3. Have you done the mandatory Facebook stalk to ensure that there’s no best mate’s step-sister’s cousin’s ex hate going on?

If you answered yes to all of the above then please, save yourself from becoming the 181st person to state “you thought they hated you when you first met”. Because trust me when I say, the most you’ll get out of that person is an eye roll. And it’s highly likely that for the pure reason of hammering those nine words at them alone, they will think back to that very first moment you entered each other’s lives and find a reason. Because it’s THAT annoying.

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Many thanks to Dana Scully for helping illustrate the mysterious looks of resting bitch face. You deserve a blog post dedicated to you, you alien-fighting babe.