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This Week Svelte model
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Last week
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Just returned from the sights, sounds and smells of Camden Market, a must see place for any visitor to London and one that is living tribute to Britain's multi-cultural nature - far better than any PR scheme dreamed up by a political spin doctors. On weekends this relatively quiet part of North London attracts upwards of a hundred thousand people, flooding the tiny Camden Town tube station. They come to visit the Camden Market, an institution that has been running for the last three decades and expanding from a handful of stalls to one obese organic creature that spans a couple of square miles, packed with everything your hedonistic heart could desire.
Take clothing for example - Levi 501's, hip second-hand clothing from the Sixties and
Seventies, the latest sportswear from Tommy Hilfiger and Dolce et Gabbana. Furnishings range from faux cowhide cushions to obscenely bright sofas in Day-Glo colors , bedspreads from Goa and Chile , delicate papier mache lamps hand painted with henna, straight off the ships from Morocco. Rocket shapes lava lamps.....inflatable wall clocks.......antiques and ultra-futuristic designs heaped together in glorious confusion.
Camden throbs to the music of many cultures, hip hop bass lines booming from convertible BMW's as young black men roll by, playing the latest Busta Rhymes and Erick Sermon tracks loud and proud. Above our heads, a gigantic bas relief of Elvis , lip sullenly slung over a matchstick advertises a store that sells leather jackets. A huge rocking chair sways perilously overhead, the sign for - you guessed it - a rocking chair store. Over in the corner, catering to vinyl junkies are stalls where you can find everything from the James Last Orchestra's Greatest Hits to the latest hot-off-the-press white label techno, garage and drum-n-bass , straight from the mixing studios down the road. I root through the world music stall, noticing labels that say everything from Ethiopia to Cuba to the Antilles . Next door, two didgeridoo players sample the relative merits of each others instruments, cheeks puffed as they vibrate air into the thick tubes.
Further down the road the thump of live drums attracts a crowd, a drum shop where they sell traditional African drums and Indian tablas starting from fifteen pounds - and offer you drum lessons so you won't annoy your neighbours too much. Street vendors nestle illegally on the corners, offering cut price Calvin Klein underwear, keeping a wary eye open for the police.
And the food ! Camden is a gourmet's mecca, a smorgasbord of delights for every palate. Turkish samosas, Belgian crepes suzette , Japanese ramen (thick chunky noodles), nasi goreng from Malaysia.........all washed down by a genuine cup of Indian Chai, if that's what your heart desires. For the bohemian in you, Camden offers tattooing, piercing and hairdressing services if you'd like to exchange your workaday bob or short-back-and-sides for something a little more adventurous. For the occultist, Camden offers tarot card reading, palm reading and spiritual possibilities galore. Now if they could only get rid of all the damn tourists it would be infinitely better............
My dearest daughter
I do understand your unhappiness that I have been silent for so long. It was not only my sickness; and pain that prevented me from writing , but the troubled times we are having now made me reluctant to share with you the sadness that has filled our lives so suddenly. Yet you say, that there are many with you who feel confused and unhappy and would want to read the ramblings of my thoughts. So perhaps whilst I write to you particularly, perhaps if your friends want, I will write to them too sometimes.
Daughter, I was reading a passage by an author called Laurie Lee. She says "A man's child is his second chance". I thought how true it is, and yet how often we tend to lose that second chance too. Very often we try to mould the child into our tight little world squared by our own prejudices and anxieties. Especially today we hold up to him not the ideals of good living and concern for other, but those of ambition and material achievement.
I can remember a friend of mine whose daughter was keen to study painting. The mother was aghast. "What can dabbling with parents bring you - you must study become a doctor". The poor child was totally unsuited for that line of study, she played truant from school and her innumerable tuition classes - joined in with a wild set of youngsters and today as your cousin says she is "a good time girl" dabbling in drugs and scarcely even talking to her mother.
Her mother bewails the tragedy that has befallen her. "I was only concerned for her welfare", she says. The second chance has been lost, for the mother that chance was not to seek the happiness of her child, help her to create a happier world but rather to further her own ambitions. I guess that is why when the birth of a child gives us parents a second choice - we must think a while of what that chance is - is it not to create a better world where there is less hate and unhappiness.
I would say daughter quoting Laurie Lee again -"I 'd like you to have acceptance and joy of life. To accept with gladness that you are a woman to be willing to give pleasure without feeling loss of face, to prefer charm to the vanity of aggression and to realise that as a brief tenant of this precious and irreplaceable world, to preserve life both in yourself and in others."
This thought that life is precious I'd want all you young ones to remember and value. I'd say as a mother, give us this second chance to teach you amidst all this hatred and bitterness that life is precious and means more than material ambition. It should not be bartered for futile power.
My daughter I wish we could again take this second chance and instil in you the ambition to make the world a better place - a place where life is precious and morality is respected.
Continue to Mirror Magazine page 2 * The Gentle Touch * Three vets all out for pets
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