Modern Life is Rubbish

After the copycat seller debacle, we decided to focus on our forthcoming mini break dossing at our friends’ house in Cornwall.  As ever, fate had other ideas and on the eve of our travel plans, Storm Brian hit the west coast and so we delayed our trip by 24 hours.  This provided our Mk 4 Golf with a window of opportunity to die a natural death.  The rattly noise we noticed a year ago and periodically checked with our mechanic, evolved into a more serious don’t-get-in-that-car-it’s-a-death-trap kind of noise.  So, Gaz pulled the plug on it and our search for a new daily drive has now begun in earnest.

Never was the phrase “it doesn’t owe us any money” more apt than in reference to our vdub.  It’s done miles equivalent to driving to the moon and is only our third daily drive as a couple (and we’ve been together for ages).  

But in recent years, it’s passenger window has stopped working, the handle on the interior driver’s door is no more and the bonnet’s developed a not-so-cool patina.  Oh and not forgetting last year, a builder’s van - fully loaded with overhanging pipes - reversed into the passenger’s door and kindly buggered off without so much as a kiss goodbye, although it did leave a wonderful array of cannon ball size dents in the door frame.  In short, we started to feel like Uncle Buck whenever we had to drop Cal off anywhere.

I could happily live in this Cornish property, but I don't think Dawn French would be very happy.

So, storm heading out to sea and transport sorted (we took the van) we had a brief, but fun Cornish interlude but still weren’t quite ready to get back to normality.  

Deciding that Blur were right and modern life is rubbish (unless the Wifi’s working), this week, we have flirted outrageously with the past.

We took a tour of the local junk/retro stores(depending which side of the fence you are on), notably, Grandad’s Attic.  Ten minutes’ drive from our house, Grandad’s Attic is located next to the Bonded Warehouse, a restored listed building on the Stourbridge Canal.

This is a taster of the delights contained within.  Folks scared of, or still scarred by the 70s – other eras are catered for.  We left empty handed this time, in view of a self-imposed one in/one out policy…

….although we have found space on our shelf for these collectible VW books Gaz spotted in a charity shop.

I should also mention this 1925 light roadster bicyle he purchased.  The frame number shows it as pre-1925, so not really sure what's going on here...

...but, perhaps we need help after all.

Saturday night marked the grand finale – a celebration of All Hallows' Eve at the Black Country Living Museum.

Gaz dressed for the occasion in Victorian garb.  I was a strange fusion of steampunk, tribal, voodoo priestess and Blake's 7 in tribal make-up.  I was wearing no less than 2 dresses and Gaz has always said that my green Zara dress looks like something out of the 80s hit TV show Blake's 7.

The site that greeted us made me instantly forget my irritation at having forgotten my shrunken head accessory.

We walked in Thomas Shelby’s footprints by gas light (in case you didn't know, they film Peaky Blinders at the museum).

 

Crow Bride with Bottle & Glass Inn in the background

There were weird and wonderful characters on every corner, from the exasperated professor and his student to the tragic crow bride looking for her groom.

 

"These are the sort of windows faces look in at."  Withnail

We sampled chips cooked in beef dripping, candy floss and some disgusting pork scratchings in toffee apple sauce (thanks Gaz).  Unfortunately, we only managed a glimpse inside the back room of the local boozer, the Bottle and Glass Inn.  We didn’t imbibe any alcohol, but the atmosphere was heady.  

The Bottle & Glass Inn (not in its heyday).

It took on more resonance for me, given that my Grandad used to drink in this particular pub in its original location (Brierley Hill), before it was dismantled, brick by brick, and rebuilt as a museum set piece.

Returning home, we lit the pumpkins, turned on the heating, poured a glass of wine and discussed prizes for our Instagram comp (see, another image stuck in the past).  You can read the winning entry below.  There are times when I detest social media, but given the interaction and genuine belly laughs this competition provided, perhaps modern life isn't all so bad.  

"Voodoo you think you are, leaning on my plane?  Out of the way Fokker!"

Top Hat and Tales

It’s Halloween and despite the unseasonably mild and sunny scene that I’ve just witnessed, All Hallow’s Eve cannot pass without a Voodoo Street blog. 

Halloween 2016

It’s our favourite time of year but not particularly for the commercial trick or treat traditions inherited from our American cousins. 

Our weekend Halloween celebrations had a uniquely British flavour; a night time steam train journey into the darkness with moonlit fields as the vista…

There's something out there!!  View from the Severn Valley Steam Train of Arley Station

Pagan decorations…

Pumpkins and my familiar

...and feasting on a menu courtesy of the autumn harvest (think pumpkin soup and apple crumble).  Of course no Halloween would be complete without an open fire (never mind that it’s 17 degrees outside – lose some layers!) and a ghost story.  So, today seems as a good a time as any to share the story behind our logo – specifically the top hat.

Special Edition Sugar Skull version of our Logo Sticker online now

 In the 1950s my long departed grandfather was given an aged leather bound bible and a top hat by an acquaintance.  The items had originally been discovered in an old hearse the acquaintance – a wheeler-dealer – had acquired.  As a father of six (five of them boys), he was always looking for ways to keep his family entertained.

It seems impossible to believe, but long before the days of console games and iphones, kids could find entertainment in a dressing up prop and the top hat fitted the bill.

The hat was passed around but pretty soon was relegated to the back of a dusty cupboard.

The family lived in a terraced house in Wordsley, which was then a village bordered by fields.  

Photo of Wordsley, credit:  The Francis Frith Collection

1950s Wordsley.  Photo credit The Francis Frith Collection

Pretty soon after the top hat arrived, unexplained happenings occurred.  The passage of time and fading memories have resulted in only a few clear events now being recounted, but I have grown up with these stories and no matter which relative you speak to, the stories are consistent.

One spring day the family were outside in the back garden.  No one was inside the house.  One of the upstairs bedroom windows was open.  The weather conditions were calm.  Taking a break and sitting on a bench, something caught my grandmother’s eye.  A glass perfume bottle rose up, framed in mid air by the window and then appeared to be tossed outside, as though thrown by some invisible hand.  The ledge was a good few inches below the window.

On another occasion, on a clear moonlit night, one of my boys heard someone knocking on the back door.  His bedroom window had a clear view of back door entrance, but as no one was outside, he lay down again, only to hear footsteps walking away.  Again, peering out of the window, there was no one to be seen.

In the ensuing weeks, there were other incidents, unexplained, but unremarkable; bumps in the night, things going missing.  That is until one particular evening.  It was a Saturday night and the family were asleep.  Around 4 am, the family dog, a very clever Poodle called Mitzi, began to howl.  There was then a deafening crash, which raised the roof, the family and the hairs on the back of their necks.  Running down stairs, a scene of devastation greeted the family. 

Credit:  Occultopedia

The damage has been described as the result of someone…or something…sweeping their hand purposefully in one direction across the wall and the fireplace below.  All of the ornaments and pictures on the wall above the fireplace were smashed or swiped to the corner of the room.  The dog was distressed, but there was no sign of an intruder.  My Mom still vividly remembers the scene when she visited her then boyfriend (my Dad) early the next morning and recalls how shaken everyone was.

In the clear up operation, the hat was discovered in a cupboard and thrown out with other broken or unwanted items…not out of superstition, just as part of a general sort out, but, nevertheless, there ended the supernatural activity.  

My Dad is a complete sceptic and this has been a bone of contention between us over the years, as his logic didn’t always fit with my youthful enthusiasm for all things unexplained.  However, he stands by this story to this day.

So when finalising our Voodoo Street logo, aside from the Voodoo connotations associated with a top hat, this story was instrumental in our logo’s creative influences. 

Happy Halloween and sleep well!

Dungeons and Dragons

Why is it when we have a packed calendar, we get the fear and yet the prospect of free weekends seems exciting but also daunting?  With freedom of choice comes indecision.  How will we fill our time?  Where will we go?  Somehow, passing the time doing anything short of amazing feels like wasted time, when so many weekends have been accounted for. Panic sets in. 

I call it “the comedown.”  Regularly engaging with our supporters/friends galvanises the feeling that we are on the right track with Voodoo Street, but take away that dialogue; the festival vibes and suddenly we feel cut adrift.  Out of touch. 

Processing orders online is anonymous.  As grateful as we are for them, it’s just not the same as engaging with a friendly face. 

T-shirts are T-shirts at the end of the day, or so you might think, but once you have been privy to a man’s 20 minute deliberation about whether the large or extra large tee “hangs” better from his neck, you realise that:

a)      It’s a myth that women are a nightmare to shop with and;

b)      Buying a standard fit T-shirt is obviously a more exact science than either of us ever realised!

So whilst receiving an online clothing order still offers the usual thrill of having been chosen, it’s now also filled with the trepidation of sending it out there and wondering if the neck will be ok! 

Touch wood, we’ve never had any issues with clothing sold online and love it when people take time out to photograph their purchases and tag us in them.  It makes it worthwhile.  Here are a few recent ones.

Photo courtesy of official_jr_skating

Thank god for Instagram and Facebook!  Those who choose to interact with us on social media may not realise it, but they are like co-workers – our own little cyber office.  By day, we’re beavering away in our dungeon, at Voodoo Towers and this contact with the outside world gives us a buzz.  (There’s only so long you can spend chatting to the postman without coming off as creepy J)

Lee Foulkes in his Voodoo Street Urban Army Cap

At this point, we’ve sold one of our stickers to nearly every corner of the globe at some point and have encountered some pretty “out there” surnames.  However, on Friday night a particularly familiar name popped up on an order of stickers.  After a little Internet research, we discovered that it was indeed the son of a certain Cypriot born member of BBC’s Dragon’s Den.  Not necessarily worthy of champagne popping, but definitely a talking point.  Another swiftly followed this order, from one Martin Kemp, although we’re doubtful that it was Spandau Ballet’s bassist.

Photo Courtesy of Steve and Cat Bath

Vespa Love

So, back to our free weekend.  What did we do?  Well, after a week of stock taking, updating our online store, washing rain battered odds and sods and reconciling a mountain of receipts, we were kept busy with family birthday celebrations on Friday. Saturday’s torrential rain and consequent flooding also made us grateful that we weren’t standing in the middle of a field somewhere, although the enforced time indoors did result in the beginnings of a new little project for Voodoo Street.  We also spent a little time on a design that we periodically tinker with.  (Hopefully we’ll be able to share these new bits and pieces with you very soon). We rounded off Saturday with a curry and beers with friends.

Can you buy grey jelly?

In other news, our favourite time of year - Halloween - is fast approaching and already, ghoulish Chinese tat is creeping into our house.  So far, we have some tea light holders, a jelly mould in the shape of a brain and 2 pumpkins.  There will be more.  This year we seriously need to up our game on the pumpkin front.  Both of last year’s gourds were hurriedly carved on Halloween and in all honesty would probably have looked better if we had taken a machete to them blindfolded!

Incidentally, in an update to my last blog, we discovered this sign nailed to a tree in the woods.  Our familiar outlook of tall woodland pines at the end of our garden (a view we fell in love with when we first looked at the house, which looks like a location from a Stephen King novel) is clearly not going to be around for much longer.  It looks as though their days are numbered.  Very sad.

Today marks the fourth sunny day in a row, which makes it hard to focus when I have a day of admin ahead of me.  Warm as it is by day, the temperatures seem to be plummeting at night in these parts and as we all know, the drop in evening autumn temperature marks the arrival of my nemesis – the spider.  I can handle zombies, ghosts and anything else Halloween throws at me, but I find these creatures truly terrifying.  I’m not a fan of insects in general; anything bigger than an aphid increases my heart rate and not in a good way.  We have had some roasters in our house: unnaturally hairy, too many legs, muscles ffs!  Gaz has to carry out a night time “sweep” before I go upstairs.  Maybe I should consider hypnosis.

An accurate artist's impression of a typical spider found in our house with frightening regularity

Anyway, onwards and upwards!  Til next time!

Voodoo Street. Something wicked this way comes.

We've had a busy year working on the itty bitty details that make all the difference when starting your own streetwear clothing line.  We've been there, seen it, done it...and nearly got the T-shirts!

Every stage of development has been analysed intricately and debated and deliberated over; from labels to logo, from website to weight of cotton.  So here's an abridged version of our year so far...

Madness takes hold.

When, on one dismal day in March (after yet another unresolved discussion on our logo design), Gaz stated that God had emailed us telling us that we had definitely gone crazy, we decided we needed a break.  That break came in May, from both a hefty workload and the longest winter on record.

Sun, sea and stickers

Cornwall came good and we soaked up the sun and witnessed some pretty amazing waves, particularly at a little known beach named Duckpool.  We were so inspired by good company and spectacular scenery, that we began our gorilla marketing campaign and left a little adhesive reminder of Voodoo Street behind.  Anyone spotted it?

The word on the street!

 Renewed, we hit the high street in June to conduct some market research.  Our general approach was to shove a page of designs under the noses of unwitting shoppers and blurt out our stock phrase: “We’re not selling (not yet anyway) and we don’t want any personal details!”   Maybe it was that we weren't talking about energy supplies or maybe not.  The fact is we we were overwhelmed by positive feedback.

Light at the end of the tunnel...

There followed a period of web development, sourcing suppliers and acquiring samples of our designs, which is ongoing.  We also managed to squeeze in an inspiring visit to Giffords' Family Circus, a surreal, vintage affair.

Halloween, our favourite time of year, was spent riding the ghost train out into the darkness of the Severn Valley.  The event is gathering momentum and for once, we didn't feel over-dressed.  This year's costume inspirations were equal parts Day of the Dead, Voodoo Priest, Mighty Boosh and Tim Burton heroine.  

The dark nights, comfort food and frosty mornings have firmly taken hold (good job we're working on some awesome sweatshirt designs).  The moon is almost full and as every Voodoo aficionado knows, the lunar phases influence the magic....so watch this space.