Get Hastings, Spring 2023

Get Hastings is a quarterly magazine that showcases some of the many brilliant people, places and businesses in Hastings, St Leonards, Bexhill and the surrounding areas. It was started as an online magazine back in 2015 but the town has changed since then and we felt that Get Hastings needed to make a comeback... only bigger and better.

It is run by a dedicated team of creatives but we are always interested to hear from any writers, illustrators or photographers who would like to contribute to future issues. We feel passionately about where we live and we want to share that passion with you.

We hope that you enjoy this first edition of Get Hastings magazine.

With love, The Get Hastings team

Mel Elliott Editor-in-Chief

Caitlin Lock Photography

Contributing Writers

Linda Baxter

Michael Smith

Charlie Crabb

Betty Furmston

Beth King Editor

Jack Tozzi-Booth Editor-at-Large

Steven Larkin Graphic Design

Contributing Photographers

JJ Waller

Ethne Lily

Rafe Eddington

We would like to thank all of our contributors, and our gratitude also goes out to Scantech Lithographic Ltd who partially sponsored this issue. Thank you to all of the brilliant independent businesses who have supported us with advertising.

By using Carbon Balanced Paper we have balanced through World Land Trust the equivalent of 698kg of carbon dioxide. This support will enable World Land Trust to protect 133m2 of critically threatened tropical forest.

Flash, Bang, Waller, What a Picture!

Photographer, JJ Waller talks us through his creative process and his love for St Leonards on Sea.

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Squad Goals

The wonderful world of Hastings United U12 girl’s football team, photographed by JJ Waller.

Alan Turing

World War II Codebreaker

Each issue we will look into the history of someone commemorated with a Blue Plaque.

On Air with James Endeacott

A & R man and radio DJ chats about a life spent in the music industry.

4 18 22 28

Two Doors Doon

Actress, Doon Mackichan discusses, crime porn, Smack the Pony, aging and much more.

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Broadcaster, filmmaker and Faber novelist, Michael Smith takes us on a psychogeographical tour of Hastings.

Talking Shop: Frame by Frame

Spectacle designer and manufacturer, Tom Herrington of Rock Optika talks all things business and glasses.

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The Top Five Books at Hastings Book Shop

Charlie Crabb from the Hastings book shop, reviews his 5 favourite books for Spring 2023.

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Community

Trinity Triangle, Dear Auntie, How we Met, One Person in 5 Minutes, and more.

Get Hastings is designed and published by Larking at the Observer Building, Unit 1, 53 Cambridge Road, Hastings TN34 1DT.

Interview: Mel Elliott

Photography: JJ Waller Photographer JJ Waller has been recording St Leonards and Hastings street life with his recognisably humorous eye for around fifteen years. However, photography is a journey he has begun fairly late on in his working life.

In the early eighties he was part of the Covent Garden street performance scene as well as being a regular face on the pubs and clubs circuit during the pioneering days of eighties and nineties alternative comedy. Notably he won a special Perrier Award at the Edinburgh Festival as a member of the team that later formed STOMP. He also went on to tour with the French punk circus Archaos and worked with top comedy producer Mick Perrin.

It was on the suggestion of an evening class tutor that he swerved from the entertainment business to study for a BA in Editorial Photography at Brighton University.

His love for seaside towns has become a focus for his photography and he continues to make long term bodies of work in Brighton, Blackpool, Benidorm and locally, here in St Leonards and Hastings. To date he has produced 10 photography books, the latest being a second volume of his work spotlighting our twin towns.

So what does JJ stand for?

Just as it is, JJ.

What is your background, and what do you think drove you into becoming a photographer?

As a suburban kid, for years my mother would regularly take me on very long bus rides around London, I think looking back it was this quiet studying of the world from the upstairs of a bus that really focussed my powers of observation. Looking out of a bus window was like looking through a lens. I still love riding buses now.

From secondary school I went to drama college. I never did very well at school except in drama and English. Drama in education means a lot to me. I am a massive advocate of drama and improvisation as a creative educational medium. Improvisation and theatre can unlock so many exciting possibilities especially for young people.

I got my first camera when I was about 23. My wife, Jasmine rented a room in a photographer's house and my interest in cameras and the dark room began because of that. My first serious body of work wasn’t until a good few years later when I joined the circus.

It was after that came to an end that I started the evening class and then I joined the degree course in Brighton.

What equipment do you use?

It’s all Fuji gear and has been since going digital. My first Fuji was just six Megapixels my latest is a larger format 102 Megapixels (the detail it can record is really changing my way of seeing things). Nowadays I only work with two prime lenses, I always travel with as little gear as possible. I don’t miss the ‘steam age’ of film and dark room photography with the resulting chemical stains on all my clothes. The film route is a superb grounding but very expensive. I love the immediacy of digital.

How does your creative process work?

I am inquisitive about people and places. Overall I follow my intuition and explore ideas in a very fluid empirical way. One scenario or one body of work feeds into another. Doors swing open and I just step through and see how things work out. I have a real passion and thrill to make pictures. I’m always excited to see how what I have seen will look like as a photograph. I like to explore how a simple scene can be elevated into a descriptive and resonant

Some are coincidences, some are collisions and a very many are missed opportunities.

Self portrait by JJ Waller.

moment. I try to bring as many elements into play at one given moment. I aspire to tell stories and to pose questions. Of course not every picture I make achieves that, but it’s the underscore of my intent. Some pictures and some ideas simply fail but that is part of the process. If I knew every time how things would look that would be pointless, it’s the unknown and the subsequent discoveries that offer the most to me as an artist. I try to make better pictures all the time. To be honest I think my best work is still to be made. I am still finding my voice.

Many of your photographs feature what I would call ‘coincidence’. How long do you wait around for some of these coincidences to happen? Often probably not as long as I should. The rule is there are no rules. I can probably tell you a different story about every individual picture I have made. Some are coincidences, some are collisions and a very many are missed opportunities.

Do you make a conscious effort to get some element of humour into your photographs?

No not consciously. Humour is such a subjective thing and people can react so differently to the same picture. I might see some humour in a shot, but if that was all there was to the image it would probably be one dimensional. I try to make images that can be revisited and continue to ask different questions or reveal something that hasn’t been noticed on subsequent viewings. When I am putting spreads together for books I might choose more humorous shots to draw the eye into the page.

You seem to be able to see things that others cannot, why do you think this is? Maybe! Sometimes! The photographer has the potential to be a guide around the familiarity of the everyday. Being an outsider with the time to look definitely helps. It’s a bit of a luxury really that I have no agenda. Although assignments and commissions can focus time and observation, being free to come home empty handed can also have advantages.

My visits to St Leonards and Hastings are always full of expectation as to what and whom I might see. There is something special about working here

that thrills me. I hope my work has resonance to the present day and will have meaning to people looking back on the work in future years. Many of the pictures record changes in St Leonards in particular. When I first photographed there it was very much ‘peeling paint and super lager soaked’.

You were recently working in Benidorm, does this mean that a Benidorm book is imminent or was this for a different type of project?

Benidorm is pure indulgence for me. I have been photographing there a lot over the last six years or so, I really like the place. I can’t see a book of my pictures being very successful. It’s a bit like my Blackpool work, that did become a book but it didn’t/ isn’t really selling that well. Tourists might buy it if it was full of pictures of trams and donkeys... but it isn’t.

People go to Benidorm and Blackpool for reasonably priced fun, not to spend twelve pounds on a photography book. I think it is more likely that there may be a future book with pictures of my work from all the resorts I have photographed in. In Blackpool there are very few places to sell a book like mine, no stylish independent shops that St Leonards and Hastings have in abundance.

Similarly in Benidorm where would I sell it? The Blackpool work started as an assignment but I liked the place so much I went back there seven times in a year. My Blackpool work is going to be part of a major new museum celebrating British seaside history. They are using my pictures as a contemporary counterbalance to work made by Mass Observation in the 1930s. Interestingly, the Mass Observation Archive is held by the University of Sussex Special Collections at The Keep, in Falmer.

I love your lockdown photographs, did you feel an obligation to document such an abnormal time in all our lives, or were you just desperate for something to do?

Thank you. I had the idea instantly when the lockdown was planned. It’s a simple idea to photograph people looking out through windows. I knew other photographers all over the country would do the same thing, but it is important not to be intimidated

I don’t miss the 'steam age' of photography and chemical stains on all my clothes.

Top image: Blackpool donkeys.

Bottom image: Blackpool Regeneration.

I think my pictures conjure a sense of place but I think it is time to collaborate and offer greater insight into the lives of some of the people who live there.

This page: Benidorm. What happens in Benidorm stays in Benidorm.

Top image: The Buttery Family Lockdown 1, St Leonards on Sea.

Bottom image: The Elliott Knowles Family Lockdown 1, St Leonards on Sea.

by thoughts like that. I had literally dozens and dozens of people contact me to be photographed. It was easy for people to grasp the importance of the portraits, both as a record for society but also for individuals and families to show future generations. It didn't need any explanation, people just got it and wanted to be a part of it.

Jasmine Uddin’s introduction to the book is phenomenal. It was also amazing to work with Martin Parr who is a photographer that I respect enormously. His agreeing to edit the picture selection for the book meant a great deal.

The Lockdown pictures got a lot of traction in the Guardian and magazines as well as being used in the credits of Brian Hill's groundbreaking short TV dramas made under the parameters of Lockdown 1.

I recently looked at a copy of the book. It still makes me feel quite emotional. It’s not just the pictures but the vox pop: the deeply heartfelt quotes from the people who trusted me to come to their home and document their time in such a significant event. In time, when people are ready to look back the Lockdown book will get a boost I think it deserves. I should also mention that it was backed by Philip and Olivia Oakley who encouraged me to publish it. Another example of how local people have supported my work.

Do you prefer photographic situations where the subject matter is aware of you or when they have no idea you’re there?

I’m not really bothered. I like both. Possibly my favourite is a combination of the two. In my second lockdown project I photographed right up to the window glass into peoples homes. I wanted to capture a sense of peoples’ day to day lockdown experience. These were great collaborations that involved a lot of direction and interaction from me. In both lockdown projects people overall enjoyed being directed, it gave us all something to do.

Do you have a dream location for a photography project?

That’s a good question, I like going on assignments and to new places as it sharpens my instincts and really motivates me, but actually I love the places that I have already spent a huge amount of time photographing in. This has become my raison d'etre, spending time in places that I have genuine feelings for.

I would like to make a lot more work in St Leonards and to follow more personal stories. I think my pictures conjure a sense of place but I think it is

time to collaborate and offer greater insight into the lives of some of the people who live there. If I had to answer just one location alone I would happily say I have found it already, here in St Leonards and Hastings.

You must have taken so many photographs over the years, is there one that stands out as a favourite for you?

That’s difficult. Every photo has some kind of story or adventure attached but photographing my mother's breast after a breast cancer operation stands out.

If you had to describe Hastings and St Leonards in one sentence to someone who’d never been, what would you say?

The Artist Christopher Steele once made a brilliant T Shirt that said ‘Hastings: A Drinking Town with a Fishing Problem.’

Is there anything that you dislike about Hastings?

Well, sometimes there is a blinkered approach to embracing and celebrating the many and huge assets of the towns. The political leaders fail to find creative or imaginative solutions. I’m thinking of the Pier, St Mary In The Castle, The Country Park and Rocklands to name a few.

What is your favourite thing about Hastings and St Leonards?

It has such an incredible and vibrant talent base of artists from all disciplines, but on a very personal level, there have been almost no times when people have said ‘no’ to me and my camera. It’s a ‘very can do’ place with very can do people.” People generally have a real love for the towns, I have never met anyone who regretted living or moving there.

Which are your favourite places to hang out in Hastings or St Leonards?

I keep discovering places all the time. I love that there are still pinball machines in Hastings, the incredible beach at Fairlight Glen, exploring Bulverhythe, the Hastings Museum, Fat Tuesday, The St Leonards Festival, The Kings Road of course, and the fact that everyone loves dressing up.

JJ Waller's latest book St Leonards on Sea & Hastings is available through Waterstones, The Bookkeeper on Kings Road, or direct from jjwaller.com.

Follow JJ on Instagram for daily, recent and archive work @jj.waller. ⚫

SQUAD

> Alisha, the team's goalie.

Words: Mel Elliott

Photography: JJ Waller

Anyone who knows me will know that I’m very much an advocate of gender equality: I’ve written children’s books about it, created animations and made t-shirts and I’m not shy to shout about my feminist agenda and how much inequality angers me. So when a member of the Get Hastings team suggested that we do a feature on Hastings United Girls Under 12s, I jumped at the chance.

Like many people up and down the country, our brilliant Lionesses winning the Euros in 2022 evoked an emotion in me that was so very different from how I feel watching the England men's team do well. Sarina Wiegman and her team obviously played brilliantly and they deserved their win, but it was more than that. It was a lesson in female positivity, leadership, bravery, friendship, kindness, comradery and fun! I cried as I witnessed the

I was taken to a training session at Hastings Academy. It was getting dark and it was bitterly cold but Hastings United Girls Under 12s were full of the same kind of positive spirits that I’d witnessed watching the England women’s team.

“MEEEE!!” Was the unanimous sound that erupted when I asked the group of girls if any of them had ambitions to play professionally one day. This is the age group that are supposed to be glued to their phone screens, obsessing over how they look, comparing themselves on Instagram whilst feeling miserable and inadequate. Being the mother of a teenage girl myself I have seen so much of that in girls of that age and this bunch made a stark, welcome and healthy contrast.

absolute pride in their smiles and tears, and I laughed as Chloe Kelly grabbed the mic from the pundit and ran off for a celebratory singalong with her teammates.

“We've got to make sure that they are able to play and get the opportunity to do this because it's going to inspire a lot of people." Ian Wright said in an emotional speech. "If there's no legacy after this then what are we doing? Because girls should be able to play, This is the proudest I've ever felt of any England side” he added.

There was a gear shift that evening of the final. It was time to ramp up Women’s football in the UK… and women’s football starts with girls football.

There was a gear shift that evening. It was time to ramp up women's football in the UK... and women's football starts with girl's football.

When I chatted with the team, Skye told me that football enhanced her social skills and was good for her mental health. Nevaeh said "I like everything about it, it helps me make friends and stuff. Sometimes I don't agree with the referee but you just have to respect their decision and get on with it."

"And what do you say if one of your teammates messes up?" I asked. The team's goalie, Alisha jumped in, "I just say to them don't worry, this is what training is for, we'll learn from our mistakes and we'll just get better and better!"

I chatted with Kerry, a mum who was watching her daughter, Marley. She told me how much Marley enjoys playing football. “She’s had such a traumatic time recently but when everything has been going wrong around her, football has been the one thing that has kept her going. She will never miss training no matter what.”

“You see the change in their confidence. Agnes was really shy and she’s really come out of her shell” another parent tells me. She will go out in all weathers now and she wouldn’t have done that before. It’s crazy how they will play whatever the weather, nothing stops them, and for me, it’s much better than watching swimming!”

I chatted with Mark, their coach, who's daughter Poppy is also on the team.

"Women's football is just different," he told me. "I get a lot of satisfaction coaching these girls, seeing them off of their computers, out in the fresh air. I think it's beautiful and I find it very rewarding to see them all looking out for each other."

Personally, I have only ever been to one football match in my life. It was to see Barnsley play someone else and “It’s just like watching Brazil!” was being chanted around the football ground by men who were eating pies they had bought from a van in the carpark. However, recently I went to watch Hastings Girls play Eastbourne Borough Youth and well… it was just like watching Brazil!

“This is a big game” one of the mums told me. “If we win this do we go to number two in the league?” she asked another parent.

“I have no idea” came the reply, we all agreed that it was a big game though as we hopped up and down to stop our feet from freezing.

“I should have worn my electric socks” mum #1 said.

As the girls arrived and got out of their parent’s cars, they would hug one another. You could feel the love and the support that each of them had for their teammates and this became even more apparent during the game. It was obvious to me what they got from playing football. Friendship is obviously a big aspect, the fresh air and exercise is great for their wellbeing, but they are also learning to work as a team, to not hog the ball and steal the limelight. They are learning to get back up when they fall down and let’s face it, that is a life skill that most of us need in abundance.

Hastings United Girls Under 12s won their big game 3–2, and I got the impression that most of them felt a genuine sadness for their rivals who were going home disappointed.

I returned home feeling full of positivity and wondering where I could get some electric socks. I was absolutely delighted that our girls had won and I had a load of respect for the heroes of the game: the mums, the dads and the grandparents who selflessly take their daughters and granddaughters to training and to matches in all weathers. And for their coach, Mark, who has a brilliant relationship

with his young team but who is frustrated by the severe lack of facilities, "two or three more artificial pitches are vital for Hastings" he expressed.

I’ve never been particularly sporty myself, but I understand now, that team sport is good for the soul and that girls football should be supported with much more funding and given the status that it deserves. Who knows, a member of this squad could be grabbing the mic to go and sing Sweet Caroline with her teammates some day. ⚫

They are learning to get back up when they fall down and let's face it, that is a life skill that most of us need in abundance.

Left: Gracie.

Below left: Nevaeh goes in for a tackle.

Below right: Gracie helps Marley following an ankle injury.

Clockwise from Right: A proud dad encourages his daughter, Skye.

Marley, Poppy and Sophia, contemplating.

Hastings United Girls

U12s jubilant following their win.

The pre-match ritual.

Words: Linda Baxter

Artwork: Mel Elliott

I don’t know — one minute you’re being chemically castrated for being a homosexual and the next minute they’re sticking your face on money and hailing you as "The Gay Man Who Saved the World" on the front of Attitude Magazine. On the 7th June 1954, Alan Turing’s cleaner found his body in his flat in Wilmslow, Cheshire 16 days before his 42nd birthday. He had allegedly laced an apple with cyanide. According to a close friend, he had always had an obsession with the film Snow White and was possibly mimicking the scene where the Queen eats the poisoned fruit.

Following a campaign in 2009, PM Gordon Brown made a public apology for the way Turing was treated. In 2013, Alan Turing was posthumously cleared of all of his convictions and pardoned by the Queen (not the Snow White one). In 2017 ‘Turing’s Law’ granted more pardons to people previously convicted of homosexuality but campaigners argued that this didn’t go far enough.

In 2022, 77 years after this gay man saved the world; finally, anyone with this conviction was pardoned.

It is on Upper Maze Hill, St Leonards that you will come across the plaque in honour of Turing, situated at his childhood home and placed there to mark the Centennial of his birth.

Although he was born in London, Turing had a strong early connection with St Leonards. Between the ages of 6–9 he attended St Michael’s primary school in St Leonards and his genius was recognised by the head teacher there.

In September 1938 Turing started work with the Government Code and Cypher School. He focussed on the Enigma Cipher Machine used by Nazi Germany. In 1939 Dilly Knox and Turing gave the British and French details of their method of decrypting the Enigma Machine’s messages. Turing precipitated the breaking of German ciphers. He was pivotal to what they were doing at Bletchley.

On 4th September 1939, the day after the UK declared war on Germany, Turing reported to Bletchley Park, signing the official Secrets Act. He worked alone on the difficult problem of ‘German Naval Enigma’. In December 1939, Turing solved the essential part of the naval indicator system and that same evening he conceived the idea of Banburismus, a technique to assist in breaking the naval Enigma.

In 1948, Turing was appointed reader in the Mathematics Department at the Victoria University, Manchester and a year later being the deputy director of the Computing Machine Laboratory where he worked on the early stored program computer — The Manchester Mark 1.

Having previously admitted his homosexuality, Turing met a younger male lover who, unfortunately burgled Turing’s home, resulting in the police being involved. In 1952 Turing was convicted of homosexuality, just seven years after he had been awarded an OBE by the Queen for his vital contribution to the war effort. Turing was given treatment that included chemical castration and his conviction resulted in him being barred from continuing with his cryptographic consultancy.

Later, at a boarding school in Dorset he showed remarkable ability in solving advanced problems but was criticised for his handwriting. He struggled with English and maths, and was too interested with his own ideas to produce solutions to problems using the methods taught by his teachers.

At Cambridge in 1934, he was awarded a first class honours in mathematics and was highly praised for his dissertation in which he proved a version of the central limit theorem.

In 1936, Turing published his paper On Computable Numbers, with an Application to the Entscheidungsproblem. Turing proved that a ‘Universal Computing Machine’ would be capable of performing any mathematical computation if they were representable as an algorithm.

The outcome of the Second World War, without the knowledge and dedication of Alan Turing could have been so different.

Alan Turing had many accomplishments some were never fully recognised in Britain during his lifetime because much of his work was covered by the Official Secrets Act.

In 2019 Alan Turing was named ‘the greatest person of the 20th century’ in the final of the BBC Icons series, beating Pablo Picasso, Nelson Mandela and Dr Martin Luther King Jr.

Turing now has an extensive legacy which includes statues and annual awards for computer innovations. He appears on the Bank of England £50 note, which was released to commemorate his birthday. Not forgetting the plaques, one of which is situated in St Leonards. ⚫

He showed remarkable ability in solving advanced problems but was criticised for his handwriting.

ON AIR with James Endeacott

Interview & illustrations: Mel Elliott

Photography: © James Finch (used with permission)

“Why!? What’s he done?” Louisa, the landlady of the Tower pub asks when I mention that we’d like to take some photos to go with my interview of James Endeacott, the subject I had left sitting on a sofa in front of a pictorial shrine to the Arsenal football team. A man at the bar wearing shorts (in February) had put some loud ‘80s bangers on the jukebox and told me to call him MC Phil. James laughed as I returned to our table, “this is my local, I’ve been in here so many times. I’ve literally been picked up off the floor after having had too much and not once has she asked me what I do. That’s what I love about this place”, he holds his pint aloft and gestures around the room that is covered in nik-naks and memorabilia, “no one cares who you are or what you’ve done.”

So, let me tell you what James Endeacott has done.

James has worked in the music industry since being a teenager, ended up being the A&R man for The Strokes and The Libertines, he’s judged the X Factor, and these days, amongst other things, he provides the breakfast show each weekday for Soho Radio, live from a little studio, upstairs in the Marina Fountain.

He was brought up by his mother and spent most of his childhood in the Calder Valley, West Yorkshire, an area that was perfectly safe before the likes of Tommy Lee Royce started being a nuisance. “My mum only had a handful of records, one of them being Simon and Garfunkel’s Greatest Hits,” he says. “I always joke that at the age of 12, I was into punk but that I thought that Simon and Garfunkel were punk. But as much as punk turned my head at that young age, I still like stuff such as Simon and Garfunkel and The Beatles. Harmonies and melodies, that's what I’ve always gone for.”

James moved to London and joined a band in 1987. They were called Loop, and even though James couldn't play guitar, he learned three chords and blagged it. “All I’ve ever done is blag it!” he says. A couple of years in and the band had become more competent, James still only knew three chords, had discovered a fondness for acid house (and all that went with it), and so it was time to move on — the stage wasn’t for him, well not that one at least.

He began working for the Rough Trade record label in the early ‘90s and had been to see an unknown band called Tindersticks. He knew quite a few people within the industry by this point and, with an inkling that this band would ‘make it’, between them, they decided that James should leave his job at Rough Trade and manage them instead.

...on The Libertines

“When Pete and Carl signed to Rough Trade, they got a large advance and they got this flat in East London that they named The Albion Rooms. They’d have parties there all the time, it was pretty hedonistic. They had a lot of money and they ironed it all and put it in the fridge. Their fridge was literally full of crisp 20 and 50 pound notes. I was there once and I went to the toilet and I came out saying ‘the flush isn’t working Pete!’. It turns out that their water had been turned off and they’d bought around 80 litre bottles of Evian water and they told me to grab one and pour it down the loo. You can’t get much more rock and roll than using Evian to flush your bog. The Libertines are very dear to my heart and it all got lost in drugs and

chaos. Pete Doherty is more than some drug-addled idiot who went out with Kate Moss.”

...on Soho Radio

I do a daily morning show from 9am until midday and it's called Morning Glory. When I started, I was losing my mojo in terms of managing bands. When I moved here I thought it would be over because they’d want me to be in Soho. But, every morning I get up and walk down through St Leonards Gardens and walk along the seafront, whatever the weather. That walk is good for the soul. Whatever mood I’m in in the morning, after doing those three hours I feel okay.

Endeacott

...on becoming a DFL

Like many people who realised that they didn’t need to be in London, James and his wife Gillian moved to Hastings during the pandemic. After living in London for 35 years, James had been getting itchy feet. “I didn’t want to fall out of love with London, it had given me a brilliant life and we’d brought up three children there”. Gillian and James had met 40 years ago by the sea whilst at university and they decided that the sea was calling them once more. “We’d been down here to visit our friends, Jess and Michael from The Marina Fountain and we said ‘let’s do it!’ with no real thought process going into it. All of a sudden it was a reality and I think had we known how good it was here, we’d have moved earlier. There was obviously a mass exodus of people moving here at the time and there’s a bit of stigma with it but, fuck stigma, I love it here and I’m having a good time”.

However, as a self-confessed blagger, James was not used to paying for his good times, and in London he would ‘guestlist’ himself into gigs, festivals, parties, you name it. It wasn’t long after moving to St Leonards and embarking on the social scene, that he was right royally humbled.

“There was a book event at the Kino and it was only about eight quid to get in but I knew the publisher so I said ‘can you get me on the guestlist?’ So Gill and I get into the Kino, about thirty people are there and Ben gets up on the microphone and starts taking the piss out of me for getting on the guestlist, saying ‘well here we are, we’ve got some people here down from London who didn’t pay, they wanted to be on the guestlist instead…’ What I’ve realised since, is that there’s so much stuff going on here in Hastings: people doing things and charging money and we’re all passing this money around, helping each other. And I was coming down with this London attitude of I’m gonna get in for nothing. It was a big life lesson and I’ve left my old blagging ways behind me. What I believe now is that we’re all in this together, that we all rely on each other. It’s about the community and supporting your local pub, or pizza place or butchers or whatever, and keeping the money here. It’s quite a hippy ideal but so what? Hippies are alright aren’t they?”

“Last week we were in the Horse and Groom which is one of my favourite pubs. We walked along Silchester Road and there’s this little studio called Day Glo and they’re having this event called Ready Salted. We went in and there were DJs, cocktails, records for sale, there were young people and people of my age all mixing and it was like being in the Lower East Side in New York. They were selling crisp sandwiches! It

was the sort of thing that if you saw it in Shoreditch, you’d think ‘what a bunch of wankers’ but because it was here it was brilliant!”

“You can live your dream here, but you can also be supported and be supportive. Gill and I didn’t think we were retiring when we moved here but we did think we’d calm down a bit but that hasn’t been the case. She gets massive F.O.M.O here!”

Living right by the sea and seeing it on a regular basis makes you realise how insignificant we are. It grounds you. But it also makes you think that the possibilities are endless.

What three elements make great music for you? Melody, passion and attitude, not necessarily in that order.

Which musicians do you rate currently?

Aircooled are a local band: a bunch of people in their forties who are just having a great time and they’ve really energised St Leonards and Hastings. But also Hot Wax are ones to watch out for and their management team is excellent, I think they’re heading to great things. There’s a great band called Looking Glass Alice from Hertfordshire, as well as Muriel Grossmann who’s a brilliant jazz saxophonist, she’s a real force of nature.

What has been your favourite gig?

It’s difficult because so many gigs mean so many different things. But I would say one of the best gigs was seeing Sonic Youth in 1985 at a place just off Portobello Road. It was an afternoon gig, I’d got the coach up from Devon and I was 20 years old. It changed the way I felt about live music: they were smashing their guitars with screwdrivers and scraping their guitars against the amps. Everything was detuned and it was almost theatre.

In terms of excitement, it was probably when I saw The Strokes at the Barfly in London: it was their fourth or fifth gig in the UK and their first big, London gig. The anticipation and the atmosphere in that

room was something like I’d never experienced before. The band were ready to go on other than the singer, Julian Casablancas. I was downstairs with him and he was so nervous that he just couldn’t go upstairs and he wanted to chat with me about my kids instead. Eventually he walked onto the stage, grabbed the microphone, slammed it down and then they went into a riff and the place just erupted! Something was in the air that night, it was like it was year zero and it felt like a passing of the baton. It was electric and they were ridiculously good. They were the five most beautiful men and I always said that every boy wanted to be in the band and every woman wanted to shag them and I wanted to do both. Only trust people who wanted to do both, they were insane.

And what is the worst gig you’ve been to?

Art Garfunkel played the South Bank. It was awful, dreadful and schmaltzy. He wore a dinner suit and a bow tie, he ended with Bright Eyes or Bridge Over Troubled Water and then he announces that he’s going to bring on a very special guest… and he brings out his son who is about seven years old and who looks just like him: dinner suit, bow tie and the big, frizzy hair. They sang Feelin’ Groovy together. Just Awful.

Most controversial musical opinion?

I don’t like Radiohead, I think they’re awful, and I think Britpop was one of the worst times for music… ever. It was the epitome of the ‘90s and lads and Loaded mag and I hated it.

What never fails to get you on the dancefloor?

Say Hello Wave Goodbye by Soft Cell, you can smooch to it.

How has music has shaped you?

Music has made me a better person, it’s taught me a lot and it continues to. It is constantly on my mind. My mood is defined by what I listen to and sometimes what I listen to defines my mood. Some days I’ll just listen to Bob Dyan and nothing else. Other days if I hear Bob Dylan I get angry. Listening to music is just what I do, it’s like breathing… or drinking. Every so often I pinch myself and say “I’m just a working class lad from Halifax, how did I get here!?”

And with that, we were done… and a little bit tipsy. “I’ll probably be back for the meat raffle”, I thought, as Bon Jovi erupted from the jukebox and MC Phil waved cheerily.

Catch James on Soho Radio, weekdays 9am — 12pm and monthly around the round table with Steve Lamacq on 6 Music. ⚫

James Endeacott photographed by Ethne Lily.

WRITER . ILLUSTRATOR . DESIGNER . POP CULTURE GIFTS

MEL ELLIOTT

Words: Mel Elliott

Photography: Caitlin Lock

Approaching Doon Mackichan’s doorstep, busy with its flower-filled plant pots, I am brandishing a bunch of roses and a packet of Dead Fly biscuits (AKA Garibaldi). From the doorstep, I hear her on the phone, to her agent as it turns out how showbiz! She opens the door and I’m greeted by two large, very friendly grins: one from Doon, and the other from her elegant Staffordshire bull terrier, Stella, who wants to show me her ball. I’m led to the kitchen and I advise Doon that she can reuse the tea bag after making my cup of weak tea and then we proceed to a bright and cosy living room followed by Stella and her ball.

Doon with her Staffordshire bull terrier, Stella.

Doon likes to say that she was born in the cocktail bar of the Lanesborough Hotel, London. The hotel’s cocktail bar is what used to be the maternity ward of St George’s hospital. “I like to say that, it sounds posh” she explains. At the age of 12 she tells me that she was “brutally moved to the middle of nowhere in Scotland so that my father could get back to his roots. I attended a rough school there and quickly developed a Scottish accent, as well as a love for the sea and cold water swimming.”

Following her A Levels, Doon travelled to Canada to become an au pair. “It was for a posh, really awful family in Toronto. They had six daughters and I had to pick up their knickers and I used to sob in the bath thinking I’ve got to make this work! This is my year off!”. When her father visited Canada, he took Doon to New York, got her a job as a ‘coffee-getter’ in The World Trade Centre and Doon never went back to the posh, awful family and its abundance of knickers. “I arrived in New York on the day of Gay Pride and I was like ‘Here I am!” she says in full showbiz mode, jazz hands and all. Following a hedonistic time in New York, Doon returned to the UK to study drama at Manchester University, much to the dismay of her Brooklyn pals who rather enjoyed the company of the cool, funny, English girl.

Drama and comedy became Doon’s passion, and Smack The Pony, a revolutionary female-led comedy sketch show starring Doon, Sally Phillips and Fiona Allen, hit our screens in 1999.

“By the end of the shoot we were convinced that it was a massive failure because no one laughed!” she explains. “The all-male crew didn’t laugh, and we’d decided not to have punchlines because men have punchlines… they ejaculate! We thought that life isn’t like that, life just kind of drifts off. Lots of men I know absolutely love it now, maybe the barriers of male and female are coming down a little bit, so women being clownish or lap dancing a lamppost or having giant pubes is something that men should and will enjoy, whereas before it was just gay men who would like it. It’s quite threatening to be funny, intelligent, sexy and ugly and all of those things because women don't have a history of that”.

I remind her of one of my favourite sketches from the show consisting of two warehouse workers, competitively singing Can’t Live if Living is Without You during their tea break. “You’ve got a good singing voice actually!” I tell her. As it turns out, Doon was part of a close harmony jazz group and enjoys singing around a piano after a glass of wine. I asked if she was partial to a bit of karaoke. “Oh my god, I did the worst karaoke in Barbados and Olly Murs was watching. My kids were like, ‘Mum, don’t, Olly Murs is over there!’ I sang I’ll Be There by the Jacksons, it’s very high, I humiliated myself and had to go home in disgrace.”

‘We’ve all been there’, I thought. Just minus the bloke from The Voice, judging us and not turning.

“It's quite threatening to be funny and intelligent and sexy and ugly and all those things because women don't have a history of that.”

Doon enjoying a coffee at Goat Ledge.

Two Doors Down is Doon’s latest TV hit. The muchloved Scottish-set comedy features a set of neighbours and their often uneventful interactions with one another. Doon plays Cathy, a heavy drinker who seems to believe she’s the cool, sexy one out of the suburban gang. I ask if Cathy is based on anyone she knows. “She’s cherry-picked from myself plus about five other people. I like to channel people I know into characters.” Doon has recently left the cast of Two Doors Down to spend more time with her family and at the time of speaking to her she was writing her memoir entitled My Lady Parts, to be published by Canongate this summer. She is also set to star in the Neil Gaiman written Amazon series Good Omens, also starring David Tennant and Michael Sheen.

When it comes to celebrity shows such as the jungle, Dancing on Ice, Strictly Come Dancing and the Masked Singer, it’s a definite ‘No’ from Doon. “I can’t think of anything worse. I’ve been offered so much money to go into the jungle for the last four years in a row.” I asked her how much, but she didn’t spill the beans. “Let’s just say that it was a hell of a lot and it wasn’t an easy decision. You don’t get many actors doing these things, it’s people wanting to be a celebrity and people who love being in the papers.”

When I asked Doon what she did want to do next, she replied “Oooh! I’d love to do more theatre and I’d like to play Lady Macbeth. Or I’d like to do a really good dark TV comedy. Although I hate putting labels on these things; Drama is funny when it’s at its best and comedy is tragic. There are so many channels now and so much content but I’m very fussy about what I say yes to because I have an absolute hatred of what I call ‘crime porn’ and I won’t get involved in any of that.”

Back in 2016, Doon created a BBC Radio 4 documentary entitled Body Count Rising in which she examines the trend for female corpses being paraded on our TV screens and labelled as entertainment. In it, she asks why writers create these shows and why viewers can't seem to get enough of them. This is the ‘crime porn’ that she refers to. I asked her if anything specifically led her to create the documentary (she also wrote an article for The New Statesman entitled Enough is Enough).

“The initial thing was my speaking to two young actresses when I was working on Plebs, they had both done rape scenes and they were like, 26. One had done two rape scenes and I thought ‘my god, what story are we telling?’ I was staying in a hotel in Bulgaria and in the bottom of the hotel was this place called The Candy Bar. I was seeing lots of young girls there going off with much older men. It

to violence against women, I’ve always gone on marches or sent letters off to the Advertising Standards Authority about poster ads I thought were sexist, and I'd write letters into newspapers if I thought a story was being reported in quite a misogynistic way.”

During Body Count Rising, Doon speaks to a young actress who recounts just how harrowing it was for her, filming a particular rape scene. She was pinned down and physically could not move and even if she’d have wanted to shout ‘cut’, she couldn’t. Her constant screaming had left her voiceless. She finished the scene feeling like she had experienced rape.

“There was another story” she continues, “of a girl who had to go through two days of simulated rape for National Treasure. In the read-through I said I wouldn't be involved with that. Can you ask why this has to be shown?’ In the end they cut it. There’s just no need to ever see it. Michael Winterbottom said ‘It’s our duty to show violent crime’. It’s not really our duty to show it though, it’s our duty to get rid of it, to look at why it’s happening and not consistently replay it, because that is titillating, profoundly deflating and exhausting for women to watch. It just makes us feel more vulnerable and more afraid.”

After listening to Body Rise Counting myself, I was looking around for something to watch, and determined not to watch any ‘crime porn’, I had slim pickings. I ended up watching a documentary about squirrels and all was going well until the baby squirrels… look, I’ll stop there but let’s just say that it got quite traumatising when a crow entered, scene right.

In 2005, when Doon’s son was nine years old, he was diagnosed with leukaemia. I asked how that affected her family. “It blew our world apart” she replied “everything became about Louis and keeping him alive. Neither of us could work, I had a baby and my other child was 10. But it was actually the years after that were really tough because we divorced; we had two rental homes and no money. Those were the dark years; I had to do a farce in the West End. He’s totally in remission now though, he’s great!” To put a positive spin on traumatic events, Doon did some fundraising and provided The Royal Marsden hospital with a beautiful garden for the kids there to enjoy, Doon also kept a diary of her experiences and wrote a play about it. “When I eventually showed it in Edinburgh followed by a run in London, my son was able to come and see it and take a curtain call. Everyone was sobbing. I really wanted people to know what he’d been through and of his bravery. Afterwards I was so furious with people moaning about stupid things, I’d be like ‘Has your son almost died? Do you know seven kids who have died? I don’t care about your loft conversion!’ Doing the show really helped me put that to bed but let's all be grateful and get a grip.”

I told Doon that I wanted to chat about aging (as someone who is struggling with it a bit myself currently). Her face lit up “Oooh! Go on then!” she enthused with a face that said ‘don’t get me started’. For women in the public eye, aging must be even more difficult I suggest, Doon takes a deep breath.

“I’ve chosen not to have any surgery or Botox or

anything and I feel very passionately about it. I think making ourselves all look the same is really bad for the younger generation. People are getting younger and younger when they, as I put it, start self-harming with surgery and needles. I know the big question is

‘I’m a feminist why can’t I do what I want?’ Even the great Caitlin Moran said she had Botox as a treat because ‘her face looked sad’ and I think it’s not about whether you do it, it’s about what it’s saying to younger girls so that when they’re 24 and they get their first crowsfoot, they’re going to put something in their face. And it’s not fair! So because I haven’t had work, I look a lot older on screen, next to someone who’s had a lot of work. They have a pillowface whereas I (she cackles) look like the wicked witch of the North! I come back from filming and I have to have a word with myself. It’s because of the culture we’re in. We’re literally still in the chains of the patriarchy and we need to take them off. Be grateful for your face because the minute you do something to it, you’re going to look different. It’s heartbreaking and it’s not good for young girls who are already in crisis and I’m furious about it. They’re not doing it for themselves or for other women, it’s because we live in a culture where we have to be seen as still sexy and still young. So, fuck the patriarchy!” We both laugh and I’m glad that I did get her started.

To wind-up our conversation, I wanted to talk about Hastings and I asked Doon who she felt was more ‘Hastings famous’, her or her musician brother, Blair. She laughed before answering “I am known as Blair's sister and I think that says it all!” ⚫

Doon Mackichan

food, the nicest people and the best pink fizz I’ve ever had. I love

who do great jumpers and I bought this vase from there she says pointing at the mantelpiece, I like that whole artists, fishermen and crazy cold-water swimmers.

ITNOTGAOTU

by Michael Smith

written by Michael Smith with photography by Get Hastings and illustration by Mel Elliott

We first visited Hastings around Halloween time, a year before we moved. I hadn’t consciously accepted our time in London was up yet, but I felt it in my waters. I often found myself dreaming about the seaside in that untenably expensive East End boxroom flat around that time.

For some reason, Hastings got its hooks into us as soon as we arrived. I don’t really know why — on paper it was a bad idea: a drinking town with a fishing problem, an unemployment blackspot full of Greggs pasties and smack, gone to rack & ruin… but walking round the Old Town with the dog in early November, it was so sunny I had to take my coat off, ambling round in a t-shirt by the sunny fishing boats, charmed by the net-houses and stalls selling crab claws, wandering up crooked streets full of wonky cottages to a graveyard full of strange graves, one with ITNOTGAOTU like a word salvaged from a dream or a trance chiselled into it beneath an all-seeing eye in a triangle, and I couldn’t help but fall under Hastings’ spell. There was something enchanted about this unlikely proposition of a place, this rickety town hidden and nestled in its hills by the sea. It seemed spellbound by some mysterious energy, something occulted, troubling the corner of your eye, just beyond the tumbledown terraces, round the back of the stairs winding up the hill…

I lapped up the rumours the town was a hotbed of witchcraft and the occult. I liked the fact it was half boarded up. The public toilet with the needle exchange in it intrigued me, in a grim kind of way. A basket case, at right angles to the manicured lawns of the home counties, in a perpendicular dimension to the Tory shires surrounding it. It was also just about the only place we could still afford to live within daytrip reach of the capital and the old lives we’d built up over the last 20 years. On paper it was a failed state, but something told me we’d fit right in.

When we got back home, I googled the shit out of the place, gorging on unlikely internet threads about Alex Sanders the King of the Witches and Rollo Ahmed the voodoo priest. Shirley Collins, the godmother of the English folk music revival, was a daughter of the Old Town. For years she worked in the job centre. Her neighbour and old mate was that strange bloke with the Hassidic ringlets out of occult industrial noise unit Current 93. Apparently you could see him down the local pub, studying Coptic, the extinct language of the first Egyptian

Christians who wrote the Nag Hammadi gnostic gospels; the pub was a well-watered station on the processional route of the Jack-in-the-Green, the local rites of spring, where every Beltane the town follows a huge effigy of the Green Man up the West Hill, where he’s then slaughtered by my mate Gary’s coven of Morris Men to release the spirit of summer, hacked to pieces with ceremonial machetes, papier mâché arms and legs flying up in the air on the West Hill at high noon by the ruins of the Norman Castle, overlooking the English Channel, commanding the seaway back to Normandy. A peculiar idea about the place started forming in my mind.

I started making tentative excursions from Charing Cross train station on my days off, labouring under the premise I was going to write something about this strange threadbare resort. It only took me twice as long to get to the coast from Charing Cross as it did to get to Charing Cross from my house, I reasoned. Really it was romanticised house hunting, only I hadn’t admitted that to myself yet.

And so I wandered around on my cheap day return, a stranger on the shore, feasting on all the contradictions and non-sequiturs, gorging on all the tantalising clues that didn’t join up or make any sense yet, all jumbled up in these rickety streets: a gargoyle lurched from a gothic cornerstone at the bottom of some gloomy gaslit steps, gorgeous belle epoque writing etched into mirrored glass boasted of HIGH CLASS CONFECTIONS AND MINERALS, with TRACEY’S BARBERS in red plastic bubble letters next door, and then BAILEY’S JOB AGENCY, with FORK LIFT DRIVER WANTED — OWN TRANSPORT ESSENTIAL written in marker pen on fluorescent card blutacked onto shabby windows… and then, intriguingly, in big bay penthouse windows with a sweeping sea view, a huge canvas in the process of being painted, a tantalising glimpse of a longed-for bohemia flourishing like an exotic mould on all the decay, an orchid in the marsh, here on the edges of the land and the margins of the culture...

...the town follows a huge effigy of the Green Man up the West Hill, where he’s then slaughtered by my mate Gary’s coven of Morris Men to release the spirit of summer...

Further along the windswept front, the sun laid its beautiful block colours on the chipped, flat cream of the soured Regency elegance… a peculiar atmosphere hung over this sorry stretch… the sadness of the English seaside, mourning for the glory of its past... the British seaside and the British Empire, big Indian domes on an Edwardian theatre, now saying BINGO in jarring chrome letters... opposite, a deserted crazy golf course glowing luminous in the winter sun, little windmills turning as the sun got low, making the fishing boats impossibly pretty in the low flat luminous light...

“Would you like to know your destiny?” asked Psychic Sarah from her plexiglass box, her pre-recorded Mystic Meg voice on repeat, her mannequin’s hands above an electric blue plasma ball. As I looked on while she posed the question, two scumbags head to toe in Sports Direct deliberately cut across me on their bikes, nearly taking my toes off; as I recoiled backwards my foot knocked over an empty litre bottle of Cactus Jack’s Schnapps, cherry red flavour, left in the street below a blue plaque of Gabriel Dante Rossetti, next to a shop with tastefully rusty enamelled colanders from some middle class fantasy of the 1950s and old wooden school chairs on sale for 50 quid, which made me feel really confused. Over the road there was a ghost ride that was closed, and a pub with a dummy of a pirate swinging off the sign. Hastings threw so many contradictions at me, all I could do was relish them. Making sense of the kaleidoscope of mixed messages I’d leave till later.

The abiding image from that first cheap day return that stuck in my brain the most came as the cold began to creep into my joints as the sun burned itself out over the channel. I’d found my way up to the top of the West Hill, by the ruined castle, and was trying to navigate my way back down into the Old Town along a winding path that became a crooked passage that dipped underneath the freestanding upper storey of a weatherboarded old house, a floating first floor that was more like a wooden Bridge of Sighs joining the main part of the strange rambling pile to the cliff. I noticed there was a real life skeleton standing guard in the window of this floating floor, dramatically silhouetted by the dying red sunshine of the winter dusk, like a gatehouse above a passage winding down into the village in The Witchfinder General or The Devil Rides Out. Slap bang in the middle of this passage of ancient wooden beams was a scarlet front door with a golden knocker. There was immediately, obviously, something curious and perhaps a little sinister about this house. Ever since, I imagined it as the “Hammer House.” It was like something out of one of those fevery psychedelic horror films, all vampire fangs and heaving bodices and blood as bright as ketchup.

One night a few years later we were throwing some event or other down in the cellar of our shop and I was thrilled

to meet the occupants of this house, local bohemian royalty, the first of the wave of painters from the Royal College of Art to colonise this forgotten and forlorn resort in the late 70s. I was introduced to Angie – artist, model and muse, old now, but still dark-eyed, dusky and gorgeous. I asked her about the skeleton I’d seen floating in the window of the first floor.

“Oh, he’s just in my husband’s studio,” she explained.

“Is it true that Aleister Crowley used to perform his rituals up there?” I asked.

“Well apparently so. Rollo Ahmed the Caribbean Voodoo priest lived in our house and conducted his rituals in that room, and he was a good friend of Crowley’s. That room has a secret entrance into the smugglers’ caves in the cliffs, where they got up to all sorts of ghastly things.”

“Wow. Was there any lasting sense of all that when you moved in? Did it linger in the air?”

“Well, there were strange bumps in the night, and glasses used to shatter for no reason. Shortly after moving in, we had to get it exorcised.”

“Shit! It was a strange atmosphere then?”

“Oh yes, and what with John Martyn who lived over the road frequently masturbating in the bay window, a very strange atmosphere indeed,” at which point I forfeited any claim to an it-was-better-before-all-you-wankersfrom-Hackney-moved-down first dibs on the place. It was clearly a lot fucking weirder before we turned up selling natural wine and craft beer in our trendy little shop.

Talking Shop: Frame by Frame

with Tom Herrington of Rock Optika

Words: Mel Elliott

Photography: Caitlin Lock

When you think of Rock Optika, you might think of the imposing corner building at the heart of St Leonards, you might think of style and high-end luxury, you might also think of the hefty price tags that go hand in hand with bespoke, luxury eyewear, and up until recently, no one would blame you! However, Tom Herrington, eyewear designer, manufacturer and owner of Rock Optika, has changed his business model as a response to Covid, Brexit and all things doom and gloom and he is hoping that his luxury product is now affordable to many more locals.

“It’s a bit like going to a tailor when you come here,” he says. “When you go to a mainstream store, you’ll have your eyes tested and then you’re thrown out into the foyer to pick some glasses that you won’t know anything about. But here, I’ll talk to you about what you do and what you want from your glasses. We’ll discuss comfort, colours and how you want to look. I will want you to look beautiful and elegant and to feel confident. I want people to return and say these glasses made me feel so much better”.

All Rock Optika’s glasses are designed from Tom’s antique desk on London Road, with a view of the sea. Every Rock Optika frame is handmade at a small, family-run factory in the Jura region of France and each frame takes almost three months to create.

“You can get a vivid tangerine pair or a classic tortoise shell”, he enthuses whilst holding a minty green pair up to my face and pointing me in the direction of the mirror. I have to say, they looked great!

Business has slowed down a lot for Rock Optika in the last year. “Because of inflation, people are worried about bills rising and we’re anxious about all the things we read about all the time,” Tom tells me.

To offset this, Tom has stopped wholesaling his glasses to other stores and opticians, essentially, cutting out the middleman. He explains, “by doing this I can reduce the cost of my frames right down to high street prices. They’re now £175 including lenses! You're getting handmade glasses from a guy who went to Hastings college and drew pictures of glasses for fun. I honestly think they’re now more accessible to the local community and they’re getting a pair of glasses worth £475. I like to put my money back into the local community as well, so if you buy a pair of glasses from me, I'll try and keep it local with a pint and a pizza!”

“I went to Hastings college... I design my glasses from my antique desk in London Road overlooking the sea.”

To give you a bit of background on Tom Herrington, he is Hastings born and bred and after a stint at Hastings College, he studied fashion photography at the London College of Fashion.

“I was self conscious so I tried to dress really nicely and I had these really cool sunglasses that my flatmate broke. He was doing silversmithing at Camberwell so he took them in one day and he repaired them in the most ridiculous, avant garde fashion! Shortly after that, we both met Jason Kirk (a leading name in eyewear design) and in his shop there was this flying pig going in and out of the window on a wire. Coming from Hastings, all I knew was those big old-fashioned opticians. It was mindblowing to me that spectacles could look so wicked.”

Tom ended up working for Jason Kirk and then for an extremely posh Californian company who would import, design, sell, and distribute the best made glasses in the world.

“I ended up knowing too much about how to design glasses, where to make them, who to make them for and who to sell them to. I basically pushed myself into a niche corner.”

Tom gets his inspiration from old cars, buildings, movie stars, fashion magazines such as Vogue Italia and from being given the freedom to do what he wants to do.

“I’ve designed some shocking stuff that I’m surprised I got away with. But it’s taken years and years for me to become more elegant, simple and oldfashioned yet modern at the same time. I’m still aware of what’s happening in fashion, films and music, but less and less am I reacting to it and more and more I am concentrating on what I’ve learned throughout the years.

In terms of celebrity spectacle wearers, Tom thinks that Herbie Hancock, Prue Leith and Bobby Womack look super cool.

“And I currently really like Stanley Tucci” he tells me. “Men can’t dress at all these days. All men should go and have Stanley Tucci lessons I think.”

Or maybe they just need to go to Rock Optika and treat themselves to a bespoke, locally-designed pair of glasses for a high street price tag.

Tom is currently just completing an Open University degree in Geography and Climatology, but otherwise you’ll catch him sitting behind his antique desk, with a view of the sea, drawing glasses, just like he did as a kid. And me? I'm pretty certain that I’ll be strutting around wearing a super stylish pair of minty green spectacles at some point in the future. ⚫

The Top Five New Books at The Hastings Bookshop...

Reviews by Charlie Crabb of hastingsbookshop.co.uk

The Creative Act: A Way of Being

by Rick Rubin (Hardback, £25)

Send Nudes

by Saba Sams (Paperback, £9.99)

This collection of 10 dazzling short stories by Saba Sams has recently won the ‘BBC National Short Story Award’ and the ‘Edge Hill Short Story Prize’. The stories in this collection deal with the contradictions and complexities of contemporary girlhood in tender, witty and raw prose. Saba Sams explores the intensity of growing up and the difficulty of families, friendships and sexual attractions. ‘Send Nudes’ is a spellbinding, brilliant debut and absolutely essential reading.

Rick Rubin is an American record producer and co-founder of Def Jam, who is known for producing the works of music legends such as Johnny Cash, Neil Young, the Beastie Boys, Jay Z and so many more. He is known in the music business for being incredibly ‘wise’. He also sort of looks like a wizard, with his long hair and beard and bare feet. Rick Rubin often says that he knows very little about music; he can’t really play any instruments, he can’t sing and he knows very little about the technical side or theory behind music. What he does know is how to create the right vibe. His approach to music is about creating a space where artists of all different genres and traditions can home in on who they really are and what they really have to offer. He does this by helping artists to reconnect with a state of innocence from which the surprising becomes inevitable. This book is a guide book to Rubin’s unique thinking on creativity, which can be applied to music, art or your day-to-day life.

The Shards

by Bret Easton Ellis (Hardback, £25)

The New Life

by Tom Crewe (Hardback, £16.99)

‘The New Life’ is one of 2023’s most highly anticipated literary debuts. Set in London in 1894, this novel interrogates questions of sexual repression and social norms in Victorian England. The story deals with two married men (both caught up in dangerous love affairs) who decide to write a revolutionary new book together, which they intend to challenge the repressive social conventions and laws of the time. This is the same period as Oscar Wilde’s trial for ‘indecency’, which saw him imprisoned, so the publication of this book puts its authors and publishers in significant danger. How much are we willing to sacrifice for the possibility of creating a better world?

‘The Shards’ is the first novel from Bret Easton Ellis in 13 years. Since his last novel ‘Imperial Bedrooms’ (2010), Bret Easton Ellis has mostly been working on non-fiction, essays, his podcast, screenwriting and being an online troll. ‘The Shards’ is very much a Bret Easton Ellis novel, it’s a thrilling, super speedy read and is written with his signature blankness when describing moments of horror and violence. It also has a recognisable subject matter; the dark side of American privilege and excess. The novel is narrated by a character called Bret and follows a group of prep school kids in Los Angeles in 1981, as a serial killer on the loose draws ever closer to their world. It’s a gripping read.

Siblings

by Brigitte Reimann (Paperback, £12.99)

Newly published in a beautiful, colourful edition by Penguin Classics, ‘Siblings’ is a lost classic of post-war German literature. Brigitte Reimann was one of East Germany’s most significant writers and a cult figure in the literary scene of her time. ‘Siblings’, which was originally published in 1963, was inspired by her eldest brother leaving East Germany for the West. The novel is set in 1960, and is narrated by Elisabeth, a young painter who believes whole heartedly in the socialist project of the GDR. However, her brother Uli finds the regime stifling and oppressive. ‘Siblings’ may well spark the revival of Brigitte Reimann as a cult author of note. ⚫

This section is dedicated to you, because you help to make Hastings, St Leonards and the surrounding area what it is. Each one of you eclectic lot adds something to the vibrancy, the creativity, and the uniqueness of this town. Something which this place has in spades, is a strong sense of community and we feel that should be celebrated. →

Trinity Triangle

AKA THE AMERICA GROUND

We all know about the stormy weather we get round these parts, but in the 1800s, the storms were so severe that a new piece of land was formed out of shingle. It basically covered the area from where St Mary in the Castle and the Pier now stand. An opportunistic group who called themselves, Hastings Americans, claimed the land and, as the American Civil War was going on at the time, they labelled themselves as ‘independent’.

B & T Music, 10 Claremont

Opened 1985

‘Chilled-out music shop.’

Cheapest thing

Plectrum 70p

Most expensive thing

Russ Haywood handbuilt guitar £3,499 Get Hastings loves Their range of recorders.

The council obviously tried to reclaim the land but were met with fierce resistance and an American flag. When the Crown eventually won the battle to reclaim the land, houses and businesses were dismantled and rebuilt in Bohemia. These days, the America Ground (or Trinity Triangle), covers Trinity Street, Claremont and Robertson Street. It is a lively, creative district and home

Hastings Library, 13 Claremont

Opened 1881

‘Free, public library.’

Cheapest thing

A borrowed book £0

Most expensive thing

A borrowed book £0

Get Hastings loves Everyone having access to books.

Flot & Jetsam, 19 Claremont

Opened 2020

‘Women’s fashion, jewellery and lifestyle boutique.’

Cheapest thing

Greetings card £2.50

Most expensive thing

Julie Tucker Williams anchor

necklace £450

Doon Mackichan loves

Their ‘eye’ vase/jug.

Illustrated by Mel Elliott @officialmelelliott

Licence 2 Kale, 37c Robertson Street

Opened 2020

‘Community-focussed, plantbased juice bar and kitchen.’

Cheapest thing

Juice £4.50

Most expensive thing

Buddha Bowl £9

Get Hastings loves

Walking out feeling a little bit healthier.

Dyke & Dean, 14 Claremont

Opened 2011

‘Modern homewares specialising in lighting and furniture.’

Cheapest thing

Tiny wooden boat £2

Most expensive thing

Walnut Radiofonografo

£14,690

Get Hastings loves

Their colourful Katy Paty porcelain light switches.

Trinity Wholefoods, 3 Trinity Street

Opened 1985

‘A 38 year established ethical, environmentally friendly workers co-operative specialising in organic vegetables, wholefoods and local produce.’

Cheapest thing

Sesame Seed Snacks 47p

Most expensive thing

Biosnacky 3 tier Germinator

System for seed sprouting £33.49

Get Hastings loves

The wide variety of goods that inspire us to cook.

Cheese On Sea, 10 Claremont

Opened 2021

‘Artisan cheese shop aiming to provide a wide variety of British cheese at a reasonable price.’

Cheapest thing

Cheese £4 per 100g

Most expensive thing

Cheese £4 per 100g

Get Hastings loves

The locally made Sussex Velvet.

The Hastings Bookshop, 5 Trinity Street

Opened 2020

‘Small local bookshop with a community ethos and an emphasis on new and interesting books.’

Cheapest thing

Ink cartridges £2

Most expensive thing

‘Protest!’ Derek Jarman £48

Get Hastings loves

Their pocket-sized Kaweco fountain pens.

The Cake Room, 30 Robertson Street

Opened 2017

‘A cosy and friendly cake cafe with homemade cakes and drinks.’

Cheapest thing

A cup of tea £2.60

Most expensive thing

Sandwiches £6.80

Get Hastings loves

The resident sausage dog... and the cakes of course!

Wisdens,

1–2 Trinity Street

Opened 1896

‘Sports shop that has been in the same family since opening.’

Cheapest thing

Tennis ball 50p

Most expensive thing

Cricket bat £325

Get Hastings loves Its authenticity, as well as their kind and friendly customer service.

Opened 2015

‘Affordable Neapolitan street food.’

Cheapest thing

Cannoli £2

Most expensive thing

Pizza £12.50

Aura Que, 18–19 Robertson Street

Opened 2022

‘Ethically handmade homeware bags and clothing.’

Cheapest thing

Pocket mirror £4

Most expensive thing

Handcrafted leather tote bag £115

Get Hastings loves Their felt slippers, handmade in Nepal.

District Guide

Trinity Triangle

Golden Axe Music Shop, 17 Claremont

Opened 2015

‘Used musical instrument shop, repairs and guitar lessons.’

Cheapest thing

Children’s Spanish guitar £20

Most expensive thing

Flying V guitar £700

Get Hastings loves Instruments being played forever.

Bullet Coffee House, 38 Robertson Street

Opened 2007

‘Homemade food and drink serving a range of dietary requirements.’

Cheapest thing

Espresso £2.40

Most expensive thing

Salmon Bullet Benedict £9.80

Get Hastings loves

A Bullet breakfast.

Beak & Tail Butchers, 30 Robertson Street

Opened 2023

‘The next generation of traditional butchers.’

Cheapest thing

Brioche bun 55p

Most expensive thing

Olive-fed Wagyu beef

£90 per kilo.

Get Hastings loves their great range of condiments and the pulled pork pocket pie.

Substance Fancy Dress Shop, 40 Robertson Street

Opened 2014

‘Unique fancy dress, body jewellery, smoking paraphernalia and novelty gifts.’

Cheapest thing

Pin badge £1

Most expensive thing

Glass bong £85.99

Get Hastings loves

Like most people in Hastings, dressing up!

Hanushka Coffee House, 28–29 Robertson Street

Opened 2018

‘Coffee, tea, sandwiches, paninis, soups, salads, cakes... and books!’

Cheapest thing

Babycino 70p

Most expensive thing

Ploughman’s £12

Get Hastings loves

Their comfy sofas and strawberry milkshakes.

Stooge Coffee, 4 Trinity Street

Opened 2017

‘Independent coffee shop.’

Cheapest thing

Biscotti 30p

Most expensive thing

Coffee grinder £65

Get Hastings loves The chilled-out, homely vibes.

Wow And Flutter, 8 Trinity Street

Opened 2014

‘Records, comics, art, books and gig tickets.’

Cheapest thing

Comic 50p

Most expensive thing

Rare albums from £60 – £100

Get Hastings loves

Their un-snobbish attitude to musical tastes and genres.

Two Snakes Tattoo, 8 Trinity Street

Opened 2014

‘High-end custom tattooing in all styles and with an eclectic selection of world famous tattoo artists.’

Cheapest thing

Sasquatch Air Freshener £5

Most expensive thing

A really big tattoo £POA

Get Hastings loves Their long-sleeved plant t-shirt. ⚫

Written by Betty Furmston (16)

I wake up and it is Monday – notorious for the start of the working-mans’ week, or a death toll for students under pressure. I belong to the second category, however fortunately for me, Mondays are when I have English: two hours of arguments, debates and Christina Rosetti – I can think of nothing better.

I am late (again) and I have to jog to make the bus, but it rolls around fifteen minutes late anyway. On a good day, I’ll spend the extra cash to take the bus, because despite the man two seats away listening to football commentary with no ear buds, the route to my college passes by the sea, and it’s beautiful this time of day.

I think that’s what is most special about Hastings; it’s a half-town more than anything. On one side, it’s exploding with arts and culture and people and restaurants and houses and opportunity, and on the other, it is an expanse of blue, unbroken except for fishing boats in the early

morning and swimmers in the late summer. It makes me remember writers who were so taken by such views, all over the world — Sylvia Plath, Murakumi, Virginia Woolf, all who managed to capture and shrink that chaotic living blue into ink and paper. It is an unrivalled feat, one that I’m sure everyone tries, and fails, to do once in their lifetime.

When I get to school, the grey face is a prison cell. It is disappointingly uninspiring to anyone who wants to learn — ironically. The fluorescents make everything look dead, and the quizzes held in the canteen are overscored by radio one, playing 24/7 without cease. And they wonder why people don’t stay to revise when McDonalds is 15 minutes away. I am being unfair, however, to the library and teachers, both of which are fantastic. The teachers are absolutely mad, and that’s how I like it; no suggestion is too outrageous, not when studying Hamlet.

I get home early today, and I meet my friend (let’s call him A) at a coffee shop in Trinity Triangle, once run down, but now booming — a change that I’ve witnessed happily over the years, from the refurbishment of the huge library, to the book and record shops. Me and A are quite similar in certain regards: we both love English and media, and we’re film, book and music nerds. We both love writing poetry, following psychology and Vice news. But now we are in college, I can slowly feel us peeling apart, not in those fundamentals which are as strong as ever, but at the root of the question: what do you want to be?

For me, I’ve always had a few key dreams, and I’ve always known that university and academia are infinitely appealing — I see myself working late hours in the library, pushing my critical analysis higher and further, and at the end of it all, holding the diploma and knowing ‘This is it, I’ve done it.’ I’m not naive enough to believe this is the be all and end all, but it’s a start, and a dream I’ve had since reading about Lyra’s adventures in Oxford in Pullman’s The Northern Lights. But A also has a path to follow: he believes in the world of work, of journalism and blogging, and he’s taking steps to ensure his path just as I am. Just because our dreams are different, it doesn’t mean they aren’t equally important. I believe the highest honour in writing and journalism that someone can achieve is a Nobel prize; he believes that it’s being assassinated by the FBI.

We gravitate to the West Hill. It serves as a perch from which everything else seems small and unimportant. It turns cars into ants, the buildings, Lego, and the sea more infinite. If we liked, we could reach out and crush the town with our fist, but we wouldn’t because it has shaped us, just as we in turn have shaped it. We joke about getting in a bathtub and paddling to France, but we have school tomorrow — so we can wait another year or so. Or we could start a hippie commune! But we have too much revision to do. As infinite as the world presents, it is also governed by certain laws. We are in college now, we’ve wised up to these facts, but that can’t stop the dream.

At six, the sun sets behind the castle ruins, and the sky is painted with brilliant gold and pink. I play some music out of tinny phone speakers and we laugh and talk about the future, but not for long because The Cure’s Just like Heaven comes on again, and I’m forced, by virtue of how good the song is, to do a little jig while screaming, “Show me, show me, show me how you do that trick!” I have a bad singing voice but it doesn’t matter: there is no one around but A, who wouldn’t breathe a word on pain of death, and my voice is lost into the wind that howls anyway. On nights like this, with tired eyes and burning lungs and clouds on the horizon and the sun setting and the first glimmer of the dog star, it feels like anything could be possible. Good friends and good music helps too. ⚫

How We Met

CLAIRE & KIRSTEN

Claire (57) is from New Zealand and in 1988 she came to the UK in a failed attempt to see Prince in concert. Kirsten (52) is from North West London and studied in Eastbourne which is what led this couple to the South coast. This is the tale of how Claire and Kirsten met.

Claire: We met online, on a lesbian forum called Gingerbeer. Well it was for lesbians, bisexuals, the whole caboodle. It used to be so vital as it was before Facebook and it wasn’t just a dating site. There was a dating room but there was a room for families, a room for going out, a room for games and (she sniggers) a room for being really passive aggressive and awful!

Kirsten: I went on Gingerbeer after I'd split up with my partner. Claire had been a prolific poster on there for years, along with her friend, Teacake. I fell in love with Claire’s writing so I stalked her on the website: I followed her around the rooms and played word games with her until she befriended me.

Claire: I noticed that this moose avatar was everywhere, following me around and eventually she asked if I would befriend her on Facebook.

Kirsten: At this point we had no idea what each other looked like because Gingerbeer had no visuals other than the little avatars, but I’d also started not really caring because her writing was just so good, and funny.

Claire: So we became friends on Facebook and then I finally got to see what Kirsten looked like and I was like Oooh, she’s tall! The thing is you see, I’m the shallowest person and if you’re under 5’8” you could be the most glorious human being and be incredibly gorgeous but you will not flick my attraction button. If you’re over that, well then you’re in with a chance! So when she told me she was five foot eleven my interest peaked.

Kirsten: I’m five foot ten and three quarters actually.

Claire: Well I like to round things up so I rounded up to five, eleven and that was it!

Kirsten: And I had expected Claire’s hair to be longer.

Claire and Kirsten eventually saw one another in person at a social meet-up at Retro in London, organised by Claire and Teacake

Kirsten: Like I said, I had expected Claire’s hair to be longer.

Claire: I’d been to the hairdressers and said Whatever you do, don’t give me a dyke haircut and what did he do!? He gave me a dyke haircut!! Anyway, I knew Kirsten was coming and it was weird. I turned around as she walked in. I was sitting on this couch and I had people either side of me but I climbed over them and the couch and it was odd because I would not normally make that much effort to greet someone. It wasn’t love at first sight or anything but it was like a recognition of something and she said that she didn't have long as she was off to a party but all I knew was that I wanted to see her again. It was just different and I sometimes wonder if we knew each other in a previous life.

Their first romantic encounter was several months later, in a sex club in Kings Cross.

Claire: It was really good, dark, seedy and grimy and we had the most romantic kiss there. We were snogging and snogging like two kids at the movies and then it carried on to the bus stop and the bus driver was laughing because we didn’t want to stop while Kirsten was trying to put me onto the bus. She was an incredibly good snogger. Well, I say ‘was’, she still is. She’s a really good hugger too, she’s quite famous for them. If you need to feel better, you get yourself a Kirsten-hug.

Kirsten and Claire waited five whole years before getting a civil partnership which they later converted to a marriage and they will be celebrating their 15th anniversary in May. ⚫

Claire & Kirsten pictured on St Leonards seafront by @rafeeddington

Name Liora-Mihaela Frimu

Age 18

Occupation Student (Criminology & Psychology) and Fundraiser.

Lives Southampton

1. When did you last cry?

Last night because I was a bit frustrated. I had meant to do a certain amount of applications in a day and I gave it my everything but I didn’t do as well as I'd wanted to and I ended up crying.

2. What is your most treasured possession?

That is a really good question. I’m not sure, maybe my pets. My dog Sparky who is 11 years old and I’ve had him since him being a little puppy, I’m like his mum. And my cat I’ve had since she was three weeks old. I’m super emotionally attached to them.

3. What did you want to be when you were a kid? I wanted to be a singer actually! (Can you sing?) Yeah I can!

4. What is a recent happy memory that you’ll treasure? Probably going out with my family. We don’t really get to do that a lot because they work so much, they’re both bus drivers. So we went out to eat together for the first time in three years and it was really lovely, I had the best time.

5. What advice would you give to your younger self (which I realise is a weird question to ask an 18 year old)?

You’d be surprised but I’m actually mature for my age because I’ve been through a lot of things. So the advice I would give my younger self would be to just keep going. You will go through a lot of things in life no matter what your age is or where you come from, whatever, you will go through a lot but it’s important to just keep going and trust the process and don’t give up. ⚫

Brewery/Taproom

6-8 Burgess Road, Hastings

Our main brewery, open to the public for indoor and outdoor drinks

The Courtyard Sourcepark, Hastings

Fresh pasta, cocktails, beers and events

The Imperial 119 Queens Road Hastings

Freshly brewed beers and wood-fired pizzas

Email

Dear Auntie,

I’ve recently become single after a 25-year relationship. I’m keen to get back out there and date again but I feel overwhelmed when I use dating apps. When I match with someone, I tend to lose interest in messaging them very quickly. It seems that no one has the chat these days, and I can’t get excited about meeting someone if they don’t have much to say.

I’ve also noticed that much younger men (I am 51 and they are often in their 30s) want to connect with me. I don’t want to be seen as a cougar, and while they are often more attractive than the men my age, I worry that if I meet them they would be visibly disappointed. While I am confident about myself, I’m not sure I could handle a rejection in this way. I’m now feeling disillusioned with dating apps but I know that’s the way most people meet these days.

What am I doing wrong?

Auntie says,

I don’t think you’re doing anything wrong! Ending a 25 year relationship is difficult enough in itself, never mind having to navigate your way through the modern dating scene and all the apps that go with it. When you’re with the same person for such a long period of time you get to know each other inside and out. You probably felt like you knew your ex better than you knew yourself sometimes.

Meeting someone new will be a bit like having to explain yourself but this can be fun! Think of yourself as a brilliant book or TV show that you’re trying to persuade someone to read or watch and don’t sell yourself short.

Coming out of a long term relationship can knock one’s confidence, I totally get that, but try and see yourself with fresh eyes and make a note of all that you have achieved in your adult life. I bet you have a lot to shout about if you sit and think about it.

With regards to not wanting to be rejected, let’s be realistic. The chances of you meeting the man of your dreams straight away are very slim. Accept that you’re going to get rejected and if you’re doing it right, you’re going to do some rejecting yourself.

Maybe some of these younger men are saving their “chat” (or banter as they probably call it) for a real life date. I think gone are the romantic days of You’ve Got Mail and sending lengthy emails to get to know all about one another. With regards to the age issue, I have lots of friends from various age groups. The age isn’t a problem at all, in fact, it’s good, it keeps things interesting and we learn from one another.

I honestly would just give it a go if I were you. With the risk of using a massive cliché, the only thing holding you back is yourself… and your fear. Don’t take it too seriously and see it as a fun adventure. Boost your confidence with some new clothes, a good haircut or a facial if you need to. Try different apps or a more traditional dating site until you find something that has a bit more of what you’re looking for, or just go oldschool and talk to a bloke in a bar!

Most of all, try and enjoy it. If you end up falling head over heels, great. If you don’t, so what, hopefully you’ll be enjoying the ride. ⚫

Illustration by Mel Elliott

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