Ah, Brighton. I grew up not far from this wonderful city, and it’s always had a place in my heart (oh, crikey. Have I been reading Mills & Boon or something?!) But the sentiment remains the same. If you’ve ever visited, you’ll know there’s a really special feeling to the place. It’s like London’s younger sister, the one who gets absolutely trashed every weekend, has a better wardrobe, a string of boyfriends, can’t hold down a job, but loves life. That is Brighton.
I personally always love visiting sea fronts in Winter. Something about seeing gaudy neon lettering on tacky piers set against a grey sky and sea really strikes me. That’s especially true of Brighton since the decay of the West Pier, which perches, skeletal, in the murky sea, facing off against its rival, the other pier, still running. Just. The wind blows up empty streets near the sea front, and the denizens of Brighton sidle around, coat collars drawn up and hands tucked into gloves.The city really does have an air of faded glamour. Things are slightly peeling at the edges, a little out of focus. A seaside postcard bleached out by the sun.
I visited the other week to work on a street style project for Kenco Millicano in association with www.LadyMPresents.co.uk, so you can hop over to the site to look at the amazing style of Brighton residents. Because the city is a character in itself, I also shot a lot of incidental photos in between people, and wanted to include them here, on my blog. My photos at the moment are definitely tending towards the bleak, I’m afraid! It’s strange – I dislike Winter hugely, and feel like I don’t come alive until Spring, but I’ve been transfixed by the broken structures of trees against skies, and a general appearance of ‘greyness’.
Despite this muted colour pallette, the Brighton residents provided the colour. Within about 15 minutes, I saw a very white middle class chap singing Shaggy songs, a man playing a piano outside (the piano was on wheels), and a man in a top hat rollerblading. Good.
I love Brighton.