'Just Around the Riverbend'...Tales of a Boho Bridesmaid.

2011's catwalk is pushing that infamous 70's trend all the way down the runway and into our highstreet favourites. Imitating the Farrah Fawcett flicks and flares, it seems everyone from Marc Jacobs to Topshop are fans this season. Although, this retro-glam trend has had its setbacks, notably, Cheryl Cole's tragic purple trousers. But regardless of this disastrous outfit, I'm still massively fond of the hippy-Esq fashion.

The laid back, bohemian style has always been at the heart of all my fashion decisions. I'm smitten with the effortless appearance of messy hair, tie-died tees and ripped shorts, although I cannot dress like this in my hometown, without the disapproval of Hythe's coffin dodgers. But an opportunity has risen for me to forest into the delicious realm of bohemian dress! After 16 years of living together, having two children and four cats, my dad and his partner have decided to tie the knot. However, they are not the typical candidates for marriage and will be holding the reception in our back garden. With a BBQ to serve the hundreds and a local SKA band to soundtrack the celebrations. My dad will be strutting down the isle of an old manor house, in a brown suit and pork-pie hat, whilst my future step-mum will float down the isle in a Grecian gown.

This leaves me and my younger sister as bridesmaids. Usually, this thought would haunt me with visions of ugly kitten heels and hideous pink meringues (ironically, I don't even like pavlova or baked Alaska, so looking like a sugary pudding doesn't exactly excite). But this wedding is far from traditional, as we will be heading to the venue in one of my dad's classic VW campers! So, this is the idyllic time to explore my bohemian wishes without looking like a misfit in society.

I have been browsing the Internet for inspiration and so far I have not yet found my gypsy-Esq gown. But I will not surrender until I have found a floaty, floor-length, ivory coloured dress; perhaps with a subtle floral print or bow detail. Yes, I admit, it may be a challenge, but with just under two months until the big day, I have just enough time to bag the look of a boho bridesmaid! And if not, I'm sure I can make some sort of headband with the mountain of daisies surrounding my garden. So, 'Just around the Riverbend', a bridal Pocahontas? August 6th, watch this space...

My Hips Don't Lie...

June is here, which means those dark grey days are behind us, supposedly. The thought of summer fills us Brits with the image of sunshine glossed picnics and chips on the beach. But for many of us the season is not all about tan lines and BBQs, as its that time of year to squeeze our 'bikini bods' back into last years two piece. Most assume no carbs and monotonous gyming is the only way to trim down, but a new fitness craze has changed the face of exercise. Of course, I'm talking about Zumba.

After the many years of aerobics, spinning, yoga, pilates and boxercise, these customary workouts have become tired and predictable. So with Zumbas Latino steps and hip spirals, this fitness class promises a fun and foolish way to loose the pounds and tone up. I've always wanted to join a salsa group, as I relish the freedom and sensuality involved in the dance. Plus, nothing quite feels more liberating than shaking your hips to a great tune! However, most of my friends believe salsa is for pensioners and women on the other side of menopause. So, this would mean joining on my own and undergoing an hour of seductive dance with an unknown male. Hi, I'm Maisie, Shall we Dance? It's not quite Richard Gear or JLo, so I think I'll save myself the embarrassment.

Now we can welcome the saviour of salsa, Zumba! A carefree and enjoyable activity that can thankfully be attended solo. So the idea of having a strange man's pelvis skimming against your 'frufru', is needn't a concern (que, sigh of relief). The European based dance, focuses on the tribal movements of various cultures, including Greece, India and Spain, to name a few. With a delectable mix of composed steps and freestyle moments, the class is suitable for everyone.

After enduring endless hours at the gym and joining yoga for a quick second, there's finaly a workout that appeals. The glorious mentality of Zumba is that if you can't follow the steps, shimmer those hips and skip along with the beat. You'll be sure to finish the hour with high spirits and a sweaty brow! I have been 'Zumbaring' since the dawn of the new year and it continues to excite me, I can't praise it enough.

In the wise words of Shakira, My Hips Don't Lie...

The Daily Echo...Coffee Mugs and Inspiration

The promise of a two week heatwave has once again damaged our British spirits. Those insistent grey clouds, instead, have decided to spit out a weekend of drizzle. So as I'm trapped inside on a very gloomy Monday, at least I can spend some time with Tea&Scones. After the mound of deadlines are officially over, I now have a few weeks of mindless activities to indulge in, before I begin my summer job (yawn).

Living in Hythe, a small town in the Kentish countryside, poses very few things to do for a student in her 20's. Days spent snaking through the high-street, in and out of charity shops, can become a little mundane, even for me. So with Hythe's lack of sunshine and friends stuck behind their college desks, I can rekindle my love for blogging.

Once the essays and dissertation proposals had been thrusted into the hatch, it was time for the students of Southampton to celebrate with late nights and lay ins. Us girls at 59 Wilton Avenue were no exception, we spent three weeks watching disney films, going for lunch and partying until it was light outside. Living the lives we can't afford! But as June arrived, my housemates ventured home and I was left to man the house on my todd for one more week. However, this was not another 7-day booze up, instead, I was there to begin my placement at the Daily Echo.

Feeling a bit lost and overwhelmed by the sudden disquiet, I was not looking forward to working 9-5 and coming home to an empty shithole. Although, I admit, the applecore covered floor and sticky kitchen surface, was a mess that I had formed hans solo. But to my suprise, the Daily Echo was far better than I could have imagined. Unlike working at LOOK magazine, this humble newspaper provided me with real responsibilites. Throughout the week, I got to write and publish current news features, investigate a sexual assualt case, visit a magistrates court, be videod for the daily headlines and was even sent out to find news and interview residents.

I've had an adoration for journalism since I was writing stories at the age of 6, but the Daily Echo has now cemented my determination to become a writer; be it newspapers or books. To top the week off, I was presented with a Daily Echo mug and even invited back for a second placement.

So a future in regional news? We'll see. But if all else fails, i've always got Tea&Scones and my souvenier coffee cup! Daily Echo, we will meet again.

Front Row View - Magazine Issues

VINTAGE REVIVAL, STORY BY MAISIE JOHNSON

http://frvmagazine.com/issue3

THE EVOLUTION OF THE SUIT, STORY BY MAISIE JOHNSON

http://frvmagazine.com/issue4

Apple Killed the Journalist.

So if video killed the radio star, then who killed the newspaper? With the infestation of IPads and Kindels oozing into popularity, doubt hangs over the future of print. Originally, it was the daily paper that informed the world of current affairs, however with today’s contemporary technology, our morning paper is already out of date by noon. Online news has become far more practical to the everyday folk. Its constant updating allows readers to catch up with the developments in an instant, plus in most publications, it’s free. So does this spell the death of journalism? Whilst people are steering towards free online reading, will journalism fail as a profession and become just a hobby? If so, we know who to blame. Apple has killed the journalist.

This triggers discomfort in the fate of music magazines. Websites such as YouTube and MySpace have taken the industry by storm in this modern era. But now publications have even more to worry about, with the invasion of additional online databases. Spotify is a website which allows people to explore tracks and albums with other users, resulting in free streaming over the net. Therefore people are now able to form an opinion of an album, before they decide to purchase or not. Using these sites at a penniless cost has damaged the need to buy a music magazine. Due to the internet, reviews in print are almost insignificant, as you can find them on the web without waiting for an issue to be released.

In the 1970’s NME (New Musical Express) was considered the best-selling British music magazine. Published weekly since 1952, it had popular features including the ‘NME Pop Poll’, and was the first publication to contain a UK singles chart. The magazine was the primary source for music fans to learn about bands and current records. Due to the available resources on the net, this sort of content is worthless in twenty-first century publications.

Midway through the eighties, NME had hit a brick wall. As sales were decreasing, the magazine went through a rough patch, and was in danger of closure. The drop in trade was instigated by photographs of hip-hop artists fronting the cover. The lack of direction formed a minor existential crisis in the fate of the magazine’s future. Readers of NME became disinterested by the irrelevant inclusion of politics and crime. After a decade of confusing its readership, the magazine stuck to its niche, focusing on the ‘indie’ genre.

However, to this day, NME’s sales haven’t yet managed to achieve the height of their seventies eminence. The publication has seen a dramatic fall between 2006 and 2010, and although the recession may factor within the drop, it seems unlikely that the magazine will return to its initial popularity.

The necessary need to purchase a music magazine, does not exist in this era of impressive technology. People have lost the incentive to buy print, as they can find information about bands, gigs or interviews in the click of a button. But where is the heart in a website? Flicking through MySpace or a band’s fan page lacks any warmth or excitement, in comparison to picking up a favourite magazine. The smell and feel of print captures something real. That anticipation of turning a page is simply lost on the web. As is the possibility that you may read an article or feature that you wouldn’t have necessarily searched for online. Although, internet journalism provides practicality and speedy information, the sentiment of a physical magazine cannot be found via a website.

The curse of online material suggests the death of music weeklies, as their content focuses on breaking news and upcoming artists. So as people won’t have the need to buy the publication, sales will continue to plunge, until eventually the music weekly becomes a distant memory. As for monthlies, although online is potentially threatening, these publications are far more stable in this digital era.  Magazines such as Rolling Stone and MOJO are likely to survive due to their collectable value. Since the majority of their content isn’t searchable online, they have a greater chance of existing in the future.

After the creation of a digital newspaper previously failed to fly, it prompts the question, what is the point?  Electronic publications may be the next big thing, but regardless of how lifelike they appear, they will never achieve the sensation of inked print.

So as print becomes a dying trade and digital continues to evolve, the future of music magazines is uncertain. Will Apple really kill the journalist? Or is this just another case of online hearsay? Who knows, Google it. 

The Darling Side of Rock & Roll.

Almost fifty years ago, in April 1^st 1961, The Beatles began their three month residency at the Top Ten Club (Hamburg) playing 92 straight nights. So I thought, 50 years on, it was only fair to review the two LP’s never to be forgotten; which are of course: The Beatles Red and Blue. Two primary colours that captured a platter of recorded gold.

In 1973, the one band arresting the hearts and souls of people all over the world, released an album encompassing a flawless compilation of treasured tracks; 1962-1966’s Red album, emitted with its counterpart, 1967-1970’s Blue album. From The Beatles Love me Do to Let it Be, it is clear that the bands archetypal quality was at its supreme best; reaching number three in the UK album chart, and even achieving that number one spot with our friends across the pond.

But overlooking factual verification of the bands’ success, I am to take a nostalgic return into the depths of The Beatles’ rock and roll revolution.

Throughout this rosy compilation, the track list essentially boxes a lyrical devotion to falling in love; I Want to Hold Your Hand, Can’t Buy Me Love and even A Hard Day’s Night ooze a warm illustration of affection. This creation of sweet love songs, however, is not solely down to Lennon and McCartney’s poetic verse; the instrumental involvement of Ringo Star and George Harrison seams together to produce their melodically charming sound. A sound that can be compared to no other; The Beatles Red Album confined a musical revolution, the darling side of rock and roll.

Journeying onto the notorious Blue album, this talented four piece seemingly tiptoed away from sugary love songs, and began to focus more on metaphorical lyrics; complimenting their traditional sound of harmonica whistles and acoustic strum. Get Back, Strawberry Fields Forever and Back in the U.S.S.R unite this sentimental collection of poignant tunes, evidently augmenting the band’s influential sound and increasingly successful status.

Embracing the soil of sweet rock and roll, The Beatles significant contribution to music is greatly apparent in these glorious collections of music. Evidently, Red and Blue are fundamentally the two colours in the music industry that have never, and will never, loose their mojo.

The World's Gone Gaga...

With the splurge of rising 'talent' that trickled out of Tuesday nights Brit Awards, I came to wonder about the fate of the Noughties. Since the blossoming 1900's, each decade has never failed to capture a pool of musical promise; voices that moulded each era, to this day, hold a prominent accommodation in the world's album collection. This summons the wonderment regarding which artists of now, will actually be fondly remembered and continue to play as 30 years trickles on in time. I have to admit, with the noise of tin-like beats and autotuned voice..it's not quite shaping out to be a decade we can be proud of!

Although I may be a biased soul, as i can't help but worship the vintage hums of a world pre - Gaga; however, the struggle to find modern comparisons with history's musical greats remains a fragment of impossibility. Nostalgia derives from the darling 1950's, an era known for conjuring the sensational Elvis Presley; whilst the swinging 60's discovered our rock&roll lads, The Beatles.

Continuing onto the 80's, which admittedly held a jumble-sale of questionable music; but still managed to highlight the likes of David Bowie, Madonna, and of course, The Smiths. A group in rebellion with 1980's techno scene, using keyboards and melodic voice to put an influential stamp on the decade. Later brought the 1990's, Oasis and Blur, two bands that introduced a fresh genre in music, the Britpop revolution.

Evidently, this bubbles up a lining of doubt in 21st century sound. As the clocks tick forward and time progresses, can we truly remember Cheryl Cole as the Noughties' musical prodigy?! It seems the modern way to reach fame is not through talent, but through the paparazzi. Apparently, the hideously mainstream chart tracks of today behold acts like Tinie Tempah, Chipmunk and N-Dubz; lets hope I'm not the only sole praying for the tedious culture of  R&B to return to the ghetto! If only JLS would back flip their way out of the Top 40 and make way for true musicians to mark the Noughties with real talent. Fingers crossed Mumford & Sons...