millionreasons | Samhainophobia

I think the bottom has fallen out of the market market - we pop along to the Hackney home-made market at St John's Churchyard and it's four
depressed looking stalls not selling very much. Broadway market is buzzing though; it's like festivals, the small boutiques ones can't sell enough
tickets but Glastonbury sells out in 10 minutes. We also visit Happy Kitchen under the arches at London Fields station - less twee than its website, it does nice coffee, good cakes and dry goods to weigh 'n' take away.

I don't do dressing up but I do still own the black lace vest I bought as a junior goth back on the late 80s and that teemed with black trousers =
My (Pre)Hallowe'en Costume. People get on the bus looking as if they've been in a fight, but at least they're spooky, not like the children we saw today dressed up as pirates and so forth. Pirates aren't scary (except Somalian ones). The Buffalo Bar has made a bit of an effort with ghost streamers, cotton wool ectoplasm and gravestones on the stage (for the First Out cafe, Sir James of Savile (as I believe he
is legally named) and Countess Elizabeth Bathory, amongst others). First up are the Werewandas who should really dress up as Wanda Jackson as a werewolf, but they go for the straight wolf. For Hallowe'en, they've gone a bit Zombina and the Skeletones - who always reminded me of the Cramps.

I've long wanted to see The Nuns given that I like (i) the Monks and (ii) Delia and

charleston. The Monks were quite a masculine band so it's odd to hear their songs sung by women, but the lead singer has a powerful voice, and along with aforementioned rock-chicks, there's Banjo Debbie, one of the Headcoatees, and Andrea from Mambo Taxi on stage like it's 1993 and we're at the Dome in Tufnell Park all over. Indeed, once the Buffalo Bar was my go-to venue of a Saturday night, but I don't think I've been here for about 2 years; the last time to see some indies covering Bruce Springsteen songs. As I hate Bruce S, it was a rubbish night for me. Getting old is not only coming to terms with the fact that you're not 24 anymore, but having to accept that you're no longer 34. No-one tells you this stuff.

Fortunately, no-one did a cover of The Monster Mash.