razz my berries ISSUE 10

SPRING 2012

beauty

and beginnings

www.razzmag.wordpress.com

facebook: Razz My Berries Magazine twitter: @razzmag

To be part of the next issue or to find out more, contact the

editors at razzmag@gmail.com

editor Jess Weeks

editor Anna Holden

the team

editors Anna Holden & Jess Weeks

publicity/social officer Kate Hird

features editor Antonia Hawken

features sub-editors Sophie Christopher & Cyan Turan

creative writing editor Greg Hoare

creative writing sub-editor Rebecca Lodder

‘RAZZ MY

BERRIES!’ is

fifties slang

meaning

impress or

excite me.

proofed by… Kelly Robinson, Jess Price,

Fiona Lally, Zoe Melegari, Harriet Wigmore, Nikoleta

Vasileva, Charlotte Black,

Wednesday Darling, Sophie Christopher, Rebecca

Lodder, Anna Holden, Jess Weeks, Greg Hoare, Katy

McIntosh, Emma Pidsley &

Ben Stupples

image Zoe Melegari

cover image Charlie

Tyjas

a letter from the editors

Welcome to the tenth issue of Razz My Berries, the

University of Exeter’s arts and lifestyle magazine! Razz is

a collaboration of student artists, writers and designers,

aiming to showcase the best of Exeter’s creative

talent. We are Anna and Jess, your society presidents

and editors for 2011/12.

For our first issue of 2012, we thought it only

appropriate to take a look at BEGINNINGS: we’ve got

beginnings of businesses all the way to beginnings of

the world. Check pages thirteen and fourteen for an

interview with No Guts No Glory, an up and coming

clothing company. Or if your interests are slightly

darker, turn to page twelve for a look at life after

death.

Issue 10 also had us taking a long hard look in the

mirror as we explored concepts of BEAUTY. Turn to

pages three and four to get underneath the skin of

‘beauty’ in the modern day, or for a quick trip to

Barcelona take a look at pages twenty-one and

twenty-two to admire the architectural work of Gaudi.

We hope you’ve had a beautiful beginning to 2012,

here’s to a creative year and many more razzed

berries!

Anna and Jess x

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beauty broadcast from the walls Ellena asks where our BEAUTY IDEAL comes from …

Beauty is everywhere. It meets you casually at the bus shelter as you wait in the rain. It announces itself like an acquaintance you had rather avoid during the weekly grocery shop. It flashes up on your television screen, with the rapidity of a senior executive’s iPhone memo, as you try to relax after work. The cult of beauty may be ubiquitous but it is also evasive – for the beauty we see everywhere reproduced is the beauty we do not possess, the standard we fall short of, the goal that demands investment and self-sacrifice if we are to succeed.

In today’s world, beauty is a commodity, in every sense of the term. The global net worth of the fashion and beauty industries is estimated as £160 billion per year. This figure reflects the scale of our collective longing to feel attractive – it is the measure of our sense of bodily inadequacy. Of course, the practise of cosmetic “improvement” long precedes capitalism - women of ancient Egypt used sour milk to perform facial peels. Yet, there can be no denying that in contemporary industrialised societies “beautifying” has become a commercial activity. Beauty sells- everything from perfume to alcohol to golf balls. And people are willing to part ways with their hard earned cash to be more beautiful, or at least to approach the ideal of physical beauty that such advertisement flaunt. Approach is the key word here because the promise of every advertisements is that, with the aid of the product on offer, we will be closer to our goal. Yet, like a rainbow over the horizon, the goal recedes as we approach; there is always a new product – some extra purchase we need in order to complete the picture.

The inner circle of the fashion and beauty industries is analogous to the elect of Protestant theology – only the chosen few are admitted to God’s (or Karl Lagerfield’s) grace. Today fashion models weigh on average 23% less and measure 5 inches taller than the woman on the street and have facial proportions that are scarcely seen in the adult population. There has been a great deal of media backlash in recent years in relation to calls from so called “real women” for more diversity on the catwalks and in advertising campaigns, especially in relation to dress size (Dove’s “Real beauty” campaign

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comes instantly to mind.) Yet there has been little effect on the mainstream of advertising. Digitally enhanced images of exceptionally thin and youthful women continue to proliferate, as if to suggest the bodies behind the creation of such images were merely rough drafts towards the completed ideal. We must consider, then, if it is really in the interest of advertisers to make us feel comfortable with the way we are? Self-satisfied individuals, one expects, have little need for the endless innovations in mascara and footwear that appear on shop shelves with the coming of each new season. Is it not in part because we believe for a brief moment that a new blazer or handbag will provide us with deliverance from our own failing sense of self-worth, that we are persuaded to buy it? In this way, the beauty industry exploits our own innate anxieties concerning our social and self-estimation for economic gain.

But are the artificial images and expectations promoted by the fashion and beauty industries really at the epicentre of all our body-image problems? Are we not dealing here perhaps with older and more deep-rooted ideologies that have simply been hijacked and intensified by modern capitalism and the mass-media? I have already noted that women in particular have a long historic association with beauty culture and cosmetic enhancement. The fact that this gender dynamic remains largely preserved in contemporary culture is evinced by the fact that we refer to a male model as a male model (with the necessary implication that a female model is the standard state of affairs.) For centuries, if not millennia (there are references to cosmetic use in the Old Testament), beauty rituals have occupied a central role in the lives of many women, often with unpleasant consequences. Women of the Renaissance wore Venetian ceruse (a pigment formed from white led, used to lighten the skin) which ultimately resulted in lead poisoning. Women of the mid-Victorian era wore mandatory tightly –laced corsets (which lead to musculoskeletal complications for many). There are vast differences across time and nations of what constitutes a culturally-sanctioned level of acceptable

presentation, but the one constant seems to be that female bodies need to be altered in order to meet the prescribed standard. Practically, this means for women living in post-industrial societies today that many hours are devoted each day to grooming - natural pubic hair needs to be removed (from the leg, underarm and the groin area) makeup needs to be reapplied daily, hair is dyed and styled appropriately and attention to dress is paramount. Are these activities simply performed according to a natural female desire to cultivate attractiveness and so appeal to the opposite sex or is there something else at work? Are we simply “beautifying” ourselves because we want to?

To be feminine is to be beautiful or to aspire towards beauty, or so we have been taught. A concern for bodily presentation is a large part of what forms the feminine gender identity; hence transvestites and transgender men who aspire towards that identity embrace the trappings of traditional feminine cosmetic representation – make-up, skirts, high heels ect . Insofar as the female gender identity is defined primarily according to appearance, it represents an object-status, and works to maintain traditional sex-based power dynamics. Perhaps this goes some way to explain why, in a post-feminist society, we are still gripped so tightly by appearance anxiety. And we really are – research shows that 9 out of 10 women are dissatisfied with their appearance, often having many thoughts of self-loathing concerning their bodies each day. This is not to say that body image is not a concern amongst men – indeed recent studies show that it is increasingly so. Yet, we remain hooked by media representations of attractiveness, convinced of our own worthlessness in relation to them. Beauty is a pleasant experience but in a consumer-based culture that values image to the exclusion of all other attributes and pursuits, it is at risk of becoming a miserable one. By setting a standard of beauty for the average woman that is by definition exceptional aren’t we encouraging her to engage in a struggle that she simply can’t win? I would call that self-destructive; wouldn’t you?

words Ellena Deeley image Ellena Deeley

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predictions: fashion forecast !razz writer Anna Riddiford gives her FASHION predictions for the

coming year...

words Anna Riddiford

image Charlie Tyjas

model Wednesday

Darling

While we are still feeling the freeze, it is time to move on

to brighter skies and take a look forward into the not too distant future to see what awaits us for the year

ahead...

Track and Field Olympics mania is sweeping

fashion houses worldwide- and the gold medal for

sports luxe goes to... Alexander Wang, naturally.

Once, Twice, Three Times a Lady Blossoms,

exposed midriffs and perfectly pink sorbet shades mean

that it’s time to have fun being feminine.

Making History From 1920s Gatsby at Gucci to

Feeling Futuristic at Pilotto, we are definitely stepping

into a sartorial Tardis. Move aside, Dr. Who.

Jewellery goes midi This year wearing your rings

mid-finger will be the new black.

Africa Go wild with python accessories, tribal print

and ethnic beadwork to transport yourself from your

back garden to the sun drenched plains of Africa.

India For Autumn/Winter, we are moving

further East with Indian accents storming the

Parisian catwalks at Chanel. If Lagerfeld is

coveting it, it’s a no brainer.

Oversized silhouette Staying in the running from

last season we have the softer, rounder, larger

silhouette. Keep it clean with block colours and high

quality materials to keep the shape sleek and wearable.

Monochrome Chanel and Wang were just two

houses who sent their models down the runway in black & white, breaking it up with accents of brown and red.

Bright Lights On the other side of the colour charts

are super brights. Whoever said you can’t wear pink

with orange has just been proven very wrong.

Read between the lines Linear hemlines and

striped prints show that there is a new nod towards

desire without all the frills.

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George Méliès becomes a legend. Charles Pathé begins to produce

films in 1900, and becomes the biggest film company in the world.

1906- 1914: Most American

films were being made in New York, but producers began escaping

patents by moving to southern California. Consider this the birth of

‘Hollywood’. Animation makes its first small steps when toy bears are made to look as if they’re moving on

their own. Early stars include Charlie Chaplain, Mabel Normand, Florence

Lawrence and Roscoe Arbuckle. 1914-1939: Film studios are

built without windows so filming can

go ahead during day and night. France and Italy finally lose their hold

over the market to the big boys in Hollywood.

1926: Warner Bros introduce sound! The first synchronised dialogue in a movie appears.

1940s: The Second World War makes war films very popular.

Film is used for patriotic propaganda. Classics include Frank

Capra’s ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ and the beginnings of Disney’s success. Think Pinocchio, Fantasia, Dumbo

and Bambi. 1950s: The Cold War sees

the House of Un-American Activities Committee blacklisting prominent

Hollywood stars for allegiance to communism.

1960s: The golden decade

of great film stars! Doris Day, Marilyn Munroe, Elizabeth Taylor, Audrey

Hepburn, Frank Sinatra and Cary Grant.

Everyone is at it! It seems the most

recent manifestation of our twenty-first century obsession with all things

‘vintage’ is ‘vintage cinema’. All of a sudden ‘the talkies’ don’t seem so hip. The 84th Academy Awards held

this February will be all in a fluster, not in recognition of an Avatar – esque

animation adventure, but in admiration of Martin Scorcese’s

beautiful Hugo and writer and director Michel Hazanavicius’s The

Artist- both new and exciting- and

both love letters to the lost age of the silent cinema.

And that’s not all! French electropop duo Air have just

released their new album, Le

Voyage Dans La Lune, which they produced after writing the sound-

track to the re-mastered version of legendary filmmaker George Méliès’s

1902 masterpiece of the same name. Cannes saw it first, and the new version of ‘The Voyage to the Moon’

(for those of you who never made it to GCSE French) is certainly causing

much excitement amongst bloggers doing the rounds of international film

festivals. Read on if you’re intending

to jump on the bandwagon, I

certainly will be. Below is a quick guide to the beginnings of cinema,

to avoid embarrassment if you find your ‘genuine’ enthusiasm for

vintage film being questioned: 1895-1906: Moving pictures

make their way into the cinema.

Thomas Alva Edison puts on the first ever commercial showing of film and

the ‘nickleodeons’ were born.

guide to life: vintage cinema razz gives you the skinny on the MOVIES and their

HISTORY…

words Sophie Christopher

image Zoe Melegari

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Stepping inside the front door of the home of Emma-Louise, or Emma-Lou as

the nametag upon a cupcake tells me, one is instantly struck by the tempting

scent of fresh baking and chocolate. The kettle sings in the background to

announce it’s time for tea (in a POT, might I add) and I settle comfortably

before a luxurious and enticing display of Tea in the City’s delectable cakes

and shortbread. I can’t help but notice the vintage edition of Vogue resting

beneath a neatly stacked collection of fine china.

a delicious interview razz’s features editor chatted with owner and founder of TEA IN THE CITY,

Emma-Lou, about the company that brings the tea party to you…

find out more www.teainthecity.co.uk

Very British and very Devon... This is the home of cream teas and where I was born and raised, so it felt right basing myself here. I think with the Jubilee we’ll see so many street parties, bunting, Union Jacks, and of course tea and cake slot in perfectly with that. Have you always baked? I started baking with my Mum as a child, it was just the two of us. I was given a cookbook and absolutely fell in love with the pictures, and couldn’t wait to try some of the beautiful icing designs out. From then I’ve experimented with things I like, and of course there are a few accidents, but that’s part of the development. As a child I loved ‘Alice in Wonderland’ which can really be seen in my table displays, a kind of jumble of pieces, rose patterned icing and the name tags: everything is there to be explored. You’re still in your first month of promoting your services, has online media helped? Absolutely, this is still my beginning and Twitter has been fantastic in spreading the word and I’m so touched and grateful for all the interest I’ve experienced from people in Exeter and far beyond. Online media gives such a quick, easy and new way to present something, and as I’m still very small, it makes my blog accessible to thousands of new people. It’s such a fantastic networking tool, and I get to talk about what I love. Sounds so perfect! Do you have a favourite cake? I actually prefer cupcakes as they’re so individual. If you have a cupcake, it’s yours, whereas if you have a slice of cake you’re sharing and they can be a bit harder to hold. Where would you like to be in five years time? I’d really love to write my own book, to inspire others who have maybe thought of doing something like this and to show them how I started out. It would have all my recipes, pictures of table settings, where to get vintage pieces, how to decorate and customize; really passing on my tricks. If you were to make a Razz cake, what would be in it? There would definitely be chocolate involved, probably dark, and the signature raspberry. It would certainly be something naughty with a sweet touch. Finally, if someone asked you to Razz their berries, what would you say? When and where?

Let’s start at the very beginning. What’s ‘Tea in the City’ all about? I create personalised and very individual tea parties, using vintage china and items to create the perfect setting for an indulgent afternoon. The parties can be for two or for twenty; it’s completely up to you and I cater for all requirements. I make all the cupcakes, shortbread, finger sandwiches and cake myself, can provide an iPod and dock with swing and jazz music to create the right atmosphere, trunks and mannequins to decorate the rooms. What inspired you to start ‘Tea in the City’? I was working in a company which provided me with stability, a good salary, but I wasn’t passionate about what I was doing. I loved the people I worked with but it really wasn’t where I wanted to stay. I started saving really hard for a mortgage which began to feel a bit of a noose round my neck, so instead I started sourcing pieces of vintage crockery which has taken a few years to build, things I’ve always loved. When I had enough money and the time felt right I decided to take the leap. We really love the name, there’s got to be a story there. I wanted something that could apply to everyone, rather than ‘Tea in Exeter’ which is a bit limiting. But, I must say that I’m a huge Sex and the City fan (note – Emma-Lou has every episode, every book, and has done the SATC tour), so there might be a bit of an influence there in terms of the girls gossiping together over lunch, why not do it over tea and cupcakes made especially for you? Where do you find all your wonderful bits and pieces for your tea parties? I’m a bit of a magpie and can never walk past a shop window without having a peek inside to see what’s about. My pieces come from all over the UK – Manchester, Liverpool, Scotland, Devon, and everything has a story. I have a teapot from a friend who was clearing out a relative’s house which was going to be chucked away, thank goodness she thought of me! Vintage is still very much on trend, is there a reason? I think in tough times we become very patriotic as well as resourceful. We start to recycle and go back to basics, so the timing for me was perfect. There’s nothing better than stepping back from the madness of life, sitting down with a cup of tea and slice of something naughty, it’s very British. None of the pieces are the same, just like the cakes which I like, it really gives a unique feel. interviewer & image Antonia Hawken

Since the dawn of human existence, we have obsessively looked ahead to the end of the universe. Every generation has pondered with morbid curiosity, some with more vigour than others, the day when the world as we know it will draw its final breath.

The 2012 phenomenon is a collection of eschatological beliefs, (that is, theology concerned with end times), ranging from predictions made by ancient civilisations, to New Age thinking. Clustered together, these beliefs point to 21st December 2012 as the day when the earth as it now stands will be changed forever.

Hollywood has helped to perpetuate certain myths associated with the so-called phenomenon. Film-makers and TV producers have cashed in on the obsession for decades. The end times have been depicted variously. The 2009 blockbuster “2012” draws upon fears about the onslaught of climate change. Meanwhile, the zombie apocalypse stream is the focus of many other films and TV series, such as “I Am Legend” and “The Walking Dead”.

So, what is the obsession with 2012? And is the hype just that, or is there truth lurking behind it that we should pay attention to?

The 21st December 2012 is believed to be the end-date of a 5125 year cycle in the Mesoamerican Long Count calendar. The system was used by many ancient civilisations,

including the Maya. This people existed from 250-900 AD, and resided in the equivalent of modern-day South America. They used the Long Count calendar to record past and future events. Mayan scholarship acknowledges that the calendar, which began in 3114 BC, will reach its end after 5126 years. When translated into our modern-day Gregorian calendar, this so-called end-date will be 21st December 2012 AD.

Some conspiracy theories collaborate with this interpretation of the Mayan calendar, giving credence to the 2012 myth. Perhaps the wackiest of all is that a planet called Nibiru will collide with the Earth in the coming December. New Age thinker Nancy Lieder, who named the conveniently invisible planet, claimed that when Nibiru crashed courses with the Earth’s orbit, it will bear catastrophic effects for the entire human race. Interestingly, the apocalypse-enthusiast’s thinking stems from information she was given by aliens via an implant in her brain.

Others place their faith in other theories. Nostradamus was a sixteenth century French philosopher, astrologer and physicist, who was branded a heretic by the church for his writings about the occult. He is most famous for his book, “The Prophecies”, which foretells woeful plagues and disasters, and the arrival of three antichrists. Over the centuries, historians have creatively

the end is nigh razz writer Rebecca asks why we’re all so wired for the end of the world …

RAZZ 9

manipulated his rhyming quatrains and, as a result, have credited the visionary with a whole host of correct predictions, including 9/11, Hitler and the Great Fire of London.

His prophecies about the apocalypse have gained popularity as December 2012 marches closer, as his writings appear to compliment other predictions found in Gnostic and Mayan texts. Nostradamus wrote almost 400 years ago in a quatrain: “in the sky will be seen a great fire dragging a trail of sparks”. Some have interpreted this as a comet. As it passes close to earth, its gravitational pull will cause tumultuous seas, a rise in ocean level and earthquakes, which will result in the planet’s conclusion.

All strands of the 2012 phenomenon have been rejected by mainstream scholarship on fairly obvious grounds. For example, the Mayans never predicted the apocalypse, despite what the films claim. Relying on ancient calendars as a means of predicting the end of the world is, at best, unreliable, due to translation problems, which even the best scholars have difficulty negotiating. Notably, the planet Nibiru does not exist, invisible planets are impossible. Finally, Nostradamus's apocalypse poetry is so vague and obscure that it could be contorted to mean just about anything.

In contrast to these predictions, which offer humanity a fairly precise and quickly approaching sell-by date,

Christianity, the world’s biggest religion, has something different to say on the matter altogether. The Gospel of Matthew states that no man or angel will ever know the date or time of the end of the world- that knowledge rests in God’s hands alone. With this in mind, I can’t imagine the Christian God would choose to end the world in 2012, as it would credit mortals with correctly working out something only He was meant to know: it would ruin the mystery game. Unless of course, God was in the mood to be earth-shatteringly ironic.

Despite this, the Bible does offer some pre-apocalyptic signs for us to keep a watch out for, including war, famine and natural disasters to name a few. Interestingly, all of these are on the rise in our modern world. There are currently around forty wars and conflicts being fought worldwide. Last year saw a record number of natural disasters, including a 6.4 magnitude earthquake in Japan in March, and a lethal thunderstorm that spawned 137 tornadoes in Alabama in April, which killed at least 180 people.

Modern science has done its utmost to stamp out the 2012 myth with hard evidence. But, as our overpopulated planet chugs on, drooping, our morbid obsession with the apocalypse shows no signs of weakening. Humans, insatiable creatures that we are, must continually ask: what next? Perhaps the other side of 2012 – if we make it that far – will bring a new genesis of apocalyptic whisperings.

words Rebecca Smyth image Ellena Deeley

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Death is all around us, be it in the natural world or in the artificial objects that we surround ourselves with. The day perishes with setting sun, winter disappears with the coming of the spring, even our phones die when their batteries are flat. However, we know that all of these things come back to life. With the setting of the sun comes the rising of the moon, and subsequently the dawning of a new day. When winter turns to spring we know that eventually spring will become summer. Phones can be recharged and used again within minutes of switching off. Everything seems to be part of a cycle. The notion of life being itself cyclical is at the heart of the concept of reincarnation, a doctrine which maintains that when a person dies their spirit returns to inhabit another human body. Certain traditions even claim that a human spirit can occupy the body of an animal or plant in a later life. Though Islam, Judaism and Christianity don’t believe in the concept of reincarnation, many Indian religions maintain it to be a staple aspect of their faith. Similar ideas can be found in Buddhism and Hinduism. Both hold the notion of the wheel of life, known as the “samsara”, to be true. The “samsara” represents the cycle of birth, followed by life, and subsequently death. Once the wheel has completed a revolution, rebirth occurs. Scientists and psychologists have shown interest in reincarnation over the past two hundred years. Some

conducted investigations into reports made by children that claimed they could remember a past life. One of the most famous of these cases occurred in India in the 1950s. A young girl named Swarnlata Mishra was driving with her father through a town about 100 miles from where she lived. She passed a building which she claimed was her house and proceeded to give a description of particular features inside it. Her father transcribed what she said and later showed his notes to a prominent Indian scientist. This scientist verified all of Swarnlata’s claims and found her observations to be surprisingly accurate. Swarnlata was thought to be the reincarnation of a woman who had lived and died in the house she described. Years later, this woman’s brother visited Swarnlata, unannounced. She immediately recognised him despite never having met him before in her current life. Though people treat the case with a degree of scepticism, many believe it to be true. We seem to inhabit a world in which realism and the need to see things in order to accept them form the foundations of our belief system. To many inhabitants of the western world, reincarnation is implausible and construed by people in order to deal with the fact that their lives will eventually come to an end. The implication that our spirits move on to inhabit another body when we die seems extreme. However, perhaps it is beneficial to view reincarnation in a broader context: that life and death

the never-ending story razz writer Fiona contemplates whether death really is the end…

words Fiona Lally image Tom Clark

There is no denying that humans are naturally curious beings: we like to know things, understand things, explain things. We see this in children of the youngest age who perpetually ask “why?” to frustrated parents lacking answers. But this is nothing new. Virtually every culture across the globe has a creation myth, or cosmogony, an attempt at explaining how the world came into being. Yet despite stemming from all corners of the world, these stories share many of the same elements; but this is perhaps unsurprising, as they are all inspired by the same beautiful world.

The idea of parents, a sort of cosmic mother and father, either bringing the earth into existence or ruling over the earth, is seen in many of the myths. In the Inca creation story, the sun, Pachacamac makes the beautiful moon, Pachamama, and marries her so that they can rule over the heavens and the earth together. In the Greek myth, Uranus, the sky, and Gaia, the earth, fall in love and it is their grandchildren who create stars and trees and plants, and the following generation who create humans and animals. People across time and place have observed the unity and harmony of nature’s elements and explained it through tales of love and marriage – the human idea of unity.

Another common theme in cosmogonies is the idea that, in the beginning, all that existed was a formless, featureless universe. The word chaos originates from the Greek creation myth’s description of the primordial universe, and it is this

‘chaos’ that we see in so many other cosmogonies. In the Chinese story of Pangu, the undifferentiated matter had to be separated – earth and sky, male and female, wet and dry, Yin and Yang. The Egyptian and Judeo-Christian creation myths are again similar, all explaining the construction of law, order and stability, as observed in nature, from the everything and the nothing that came before.

But civilisations throughout history have also needed to explain why this beauty and order is no longer an absolute, why there is pain and suffering in the world, too. Possibly one of the most famous explanations is the Greek story of Pandora’s Box. Despite being warned not to open the box, Pandora peeks inside and all the earth’s problems fly out. Her sin and its consequences are ultimately the result of her curiosity – the same natural curiosity that demands an explanation for the bad, the beautiful and the beginning, in the first place.

There are undoubtedly differences between the stories too, but the conclusion that the world is beautiful is a constant. In the Judeo-Christian myth told in Genesis, it repeatedly describes God as observing that the world and everything in it was “good”. This may be a bit of an understatement – ‘good’ hardly does the perfection of creation justice – but the message is certainly clear. These creation myths are humanity’s attempt at explaining the unknowable and the ineffable: the beginning of creation and its absolute beauty.

beauty in the beginning razz writer Harriet contemplates creation myths from around the world.

words Harriet Wigmore image Emma Pidsley

venturing out on your own razz interviews Nathan Blaker from clothing company, No Guts

No Glory from right here in Exeter about the struggles and

successes of owning your own business…

So opening a store was your initial

career choice (as I've read on the

website), but was it ever something

you had considered before? To be

honest, No Guts No Glory was never

really a career choice or anything

that I’d considered before. While I

was in Uni I had my hopes pinned on

finding work as a photographer, but I

was unable to find an outlet in Exeter

and being in the middle of a

recession kind of put that idea of

finding work to bed pretty fast. So the

back up plan became to create an

outlet for other aspiring

photographers and artists who found

themselves in the same situation.

And so NGNG was born…

How did you go about opening the

store, what were your first thoughts,

concerns, triumphs? Well, I would

suggest that no one ever asks me for

advice on the best way to open a

shop! We pretty much blagged the

meeting with the landlord of the

property, and agreed to sign up to

everything before we even had a

business plan or any money. We

then frantically made a plan,

couldn’t get any funding, and the

partner in the plan got offered a

photography job in New York; so it

was just me, £300 and no idea what I

was really doing. Luckily, good friend

and brilliant Graphic Designer,

Becca Allen, jumped on board to

design the branding of the shop, the

first range of tees and even helped

to build the fittings for the shop out of

wood that we’d scavenged. The

biggest triumph was actually

opening the shop and selling the first

ever NGNG T-Shirt. It’d been a

challenge to say the least; an idea

that sprang out of nowhere was

suddenly a reality – which is still a

crazy thing to think sometimes!

The collection of local artwork in the

store is amazing, how do you

manage to find the artists you work

with? Thanks! At first all of the artists

were personal friends of mine, and I

still work with most of them now. As

they moved further afield for work or

Uni, the word of the project spread

and I started to receive emails from

other aspiring artists looking to

contribute their work and designs. I

also spend a lot of time searching

online for artists who I think would fit

the project well in terms of style and

personality, and Social Networks

have allowed many artists to find out

about the project.

Do you think that No Guts No Glory

reflects your own personal style?

Yeah, definitely. The Tees for

example, are designed specifically

for NGNG; I work closely with the

artists and we’ll keep bouncing ideas

and tweaking things until we have a

design that we’re both really happy

with.

The artists are all hand

picked, and one of the benefits of

having such a small space is that it

enables me to be so much more

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decisive when selecting work to

stock. I tend to choose things simply

because I like them.

What's the biggest lesson

you've learnt from starting

your own business and

what advice would

you give to anyone

thinking of doing

the same? Oh

jeez, where do I

start? The whole

experience has

been such a

learning curve. I

think the most

important thing

I’ve learnt though is

to be patient and to

trust my instincts. As

long as I believe in what

I’m doing then I’m happy,

whatever the outcome.

Since the shop opened in 2009,

I’ve tried to stray away from

conventional retail and

business techniques (mainly

because I didn’t know what

they were) and build something

that reflects my own ideals and

values. It can be risky and

sometimes people don’t

understand that my intentions

aren’t simply to make profits,

but to explore more honest and

responsible ways of working;

choosing Organic Cottons and fitting

the shop solely from recycled

materials for example.

I think that the most

important thing is to inject your own

personality in to your work, whatever

it is.

So what do you have planned for No

Guts No Glory in 2012? Well,

somehow we’ve made it into the

third year! It’s a great feeling to see

that the project is being

received so well, and that

trusting my own instincts

has also paid off, so

to speak.

In April,

we’re planning to

move NGNG into

a bigger space,

just opposite the

current shop. I

say ‘we’

because by

good friend

Hayley is coming

on board too!

We’re planning to

introduce some more

things that we like to the

shop, such as specialist books

and magazines relating to arts and

culture, as well as having more

space to display handmade

creations from local makers.

We’re also starting

Handmade Arcade – an Indie Art

and Makers Fair that will take

place in McCoys Arcade once a

month, as well as regular movie

nights at the Cellar Door and there

are ideas coming together for a

range of workshops and ‘arty’ events

too!

Finally, what would you do if

someone asked you to razz their

berries?

I’d have to decline, I’m a humble

Devonshire man with no knowledge

of ‘Razzing’.

!

!

find out more

www.ngngdesign.com

Unit 16, McCoy's Arcade, Fore

Street, Exeter, EX4 3AN, UK

interviewer Anna Holden

images No Guts No Glory

RAZZ 14

Nikoleta – 70’s Jess – 80’s

Charlotte – 90’s Wednesday – 00’s

beauty through the ages razz explores DECADES of fashion and beauty in the issue 10 shoot…

photographer Charlie Tyjas

models Charlotte Black, Wednesday Darling, Jess Price & Nikoleta Vasileva

creative direction Anna Holden, Jess Weeks, Sophie Christopher, Liz Weeks, & Sarah Tebb

special thanks to Exeter Phoenix & Kelly Johnson

!

Sagrada Familia words Kate Hird image Hannah Klein

abundance and movement of nature

and the elements. His use of colour is equally diverse- mosaic, flower-like

ornaments that top the 394 foot towers

are layered with a myriad of coloured

stone. Detail like this can be found

everywhere, even where no-one “but

the angels would see it”. As you walk

around, the different shades and contours of light and shadow created

by the windows, ceiling portholes and

random openings create a truly holy,

not necessarily religious, but awe-

inspiring ambiance and atmosphere. He

believed that “beauty is the brightness

of truth, and everyone is captivated by

brightness, and this is why art attains such universality.” As well as

manipulating light, reflecting the sky

and nature, he incorporated

imaginative, new shapes to make a

new world for mankind using his own

system of geometry. Interestingly, Gaudi

was celibate, which poses an

unexpected contrast to the incorporation of plenteous nature in his

work, the highly sensual and, some

would argue, phallic forms.

The abstract designs and

highly original ideas have secured the

Sagrada Familia’s place in architectural

and artistic history but there is heavy debate as to what should and shouldn’t

have happened to the building. Mystery

donations keep Gaudi’s plans moving

forward but some argue architects are

not keeping to Gaudi’s original plans

and it is being exploited for tourism. This

is beginning to give it a Disney-esque

feel, consequently spoiling it by failing to stay true to Gaudi’s original intentions.

Dali famously said it should have been

left after Gaudi’s death and preserved

with a gigantic “bell jar over it”.

Despite ongoing arguments,

the building is the most sensational and

beautiful building I have ever visited

(even my culture-fearing friends agreed!). Gaudi reinvented the

language of twentieth century sculpture

and architecture, his shockingly different

but wonderful art went on to inspire

others such as Henry Moore to return to

God and nature’s design of primitivism

for beauty. I would highly recommend a visit so that you can see for yourself

what I’m harping on about. The

nightclubs of Barcelona aren’t so bad

either…

When I was asked to write a

piece on the most beautiful architecture, I automatically thought of

my favourite architect: Gaudi. I have

studied him in Art, modelled my final

piece on his work for GCSE Textiles

(wasn’t brilliant!) and even wrote half of

my Philosophy exam about him. Yes, it’s

fair to say I’m obsessed. Before I came to university my girlfriends and I had a

final holiday (as you do), but so much

was my love of culture and in particular

Gaudi, I steered the girls away from the

clubbing paradise of Ibiza to Barcelona

where I proceeded to drag them

around every famous Gaudi building in

sight (note: they did enjoy it and we did go out as well!). Park Güell, Casa Milà,

Casa Batlló, it’s hard to pick a favourite,

every building and park is uniquely

beautiful, but the cathedral Sagrada

Familia has to be the most striking of all

Gaudi’s buildings, after all it was his

lifetime project which is still in the

process of completion. For the last 43 years of his life,

Gaudi dedicated himself obsessively to

the Sagrada Familia, his ultimate

expression of his experience of life and a

dedication to his faith; one of the

reasons why he is often named “God’s

architect”. Of course there are the famous stories of Gaudi going mad,

turning from a dandy to a tramp. Some

say he even slept in the cathedral, but

this artistic obsession and spiritual

aspiration is what makes the building so

intricately beautiful. It embodies the two

most important aspects in Gaudi’s art

and arguably his life: the beauty of nature and his religious devotion to God.

From the exterior gargoyles,

towers and mosaic statues to the

stained glass windows, columns and

layered designs of the stone ceiling

inside, every inch is covered in stunning

detail. Some say the cathedral looks like

a large melting candle, or the future gothic with a cartoonish quality, or even

a primitive stalagmite emerging from the

ground. Whatever the impression, it is

indisputable that the cathedral is unlike

any other.

Everything curves and

overlaps; the sensuality of circles is what makes Gaudi’s astonishingly stylistic

designs his own, as he believed God

and nature worked in circles and

arches. The organic shapes capture the RAZZ 22

rosy resolutions and rancid revelations sophie ritchie asks us to get real with our resolutions.

“A new year”, we all know what that means, it’s practically guaranteed: the set in stone, ancient tradition of the New Year’s resolution. Sometimes pre-planned; a carefully shaped ambition swung into action from the very stroke of the hands reaching twelve, and the more drunken hands stroking... midnight. A few resolutions, precise and well-executed. Mostly, however, an overly-confident, slightly hungover, frivolous wish for an idealised desire, concocted from a mixture of photo-shopped perfection and self-assessed flaws. Running schedules are frantically formed in the flurried aftermath of one too many handfuls from the Celebration tin. Strict diet plans are composed, consisting of one pitiful boiled egg and a delightful mouthful of dust, and always, the eternal “Right, that’s it, no more drinking” lament that trails behind yet another alcohol-fueled year and far, far, too many drunken regrets. Laid bare, our superficial wishes for vastly improved aspects of our lives show how we adore to inflate the ego of our overbearing society, leading to a two week long campaign for perfection. And yet, we never fail to break such strongly wanted goals within a month (I’m being lenient, it’s probably an average of six long, self-wallowing days, quickly followed by a slice of cake). Hardcore exercise regimes fade into lazy and comfortable naps in front of 90210. Diets... don’t even go there. I’ve seen a girl swear so vigilantly to lose weight that I genuinely felt the reincarnation of Attila the Hun, or some other power-crazed dictator was eating carrots in front of me. She was strong, angry at her body. She was as fiercely determined as an athlete training for the most difficult challenge of her career. Only four hours later I found her scoffing her way through a trough of chocolates; I felt cheated from my discovered phenomenon. New Year’s resolution? More like New Year-ning. We chase beautiful ambitions we long for, only to give up when we hit the first hurdle. Take the now (slightly) more sober

student wishing to give up the good stuff. They begin the year with good intentions. In their initial phase of will power, even the sheer smell of alcohol repulses them deeply, staining their nostrils and causing their livers to quake in fear. Then as time goes on, with pre-lashes rearing their ugly heads once more, the previously dedicated non-drinker is thrown into panic. Slowly, but surely, they remember why downing as many shots as they can handle is an idyllic beauty. More often than not they realise they can’t. Why do they do it? To forget? To feel more confident, attractive, and less self-conscious? All of a sudden, when faced with confronting their own inner demons, that beer seems a hell of a lot more tempting. Sure, a meagre handful of New Year’s resolutions make it through the entire twelve months unscathed. But mostly, they become as important to their founder as a faded and Z-listed celebrity is to the paparazzi. Remember David Sneddon? Nope, me neither. In February, we’re back to our old habits before we know it; comfort eating and binge drinking our way through bitter reality. Face the facts: beauty will never emerge from a floating wish. That in itself is failure waiting to collapse on a badly-built pedestal of low-self esteem and a poorly-spent student budget. We can, however, construct our goals through a plan, built upon self-will and dedication. Hard work; a scary, but successful technique. Be realistic this year: you’re probably not going to look like Miranda Kerr in a week. But give it time (and a gym membership) and that goddess body could be yours one day. Don’t starve yourself. Don’t put yourself down! Don’t hold back, waiting for the ‘what-ifs’ of the world. You’ll only end up like poor old Sneddon. Work on what you have, so when New Year’s rolls around next time, celebrate what you accomplished, instead of envying what you didn’t.

words Sophie Ritchie image Alex Appleby

go into straight away, maybe later

on in life or as something a little

more part-time, but I'd love to go

into writing or styling and

experience something a little more

full on first.

What's the biggest lesson you've

learnt from starting your own blog,

and what advice would you give to

anyone thinking of doing the

same? Ooh that's a toughie! The

biggest lesson is probably to just be

yourself- cliché, but true. People

will notice you for your own

individual style and taste and

appreciate it! My advice would

probably be just persevere, and network! It can take a while to gain

a following and things won't

happen overnight, but it will pay

off!

Finally, what would you do if

someone asked you to razz their

berries? Laughs. I would razz their

berries with all my berry razzing

Was blogging something you had

always thought to do, or was it

more of a spur of the moment

decision? It was a little bit of both I

suppose, I'd always liked reading

blogs, and after a while of reading

them and feeling inspired, I

decided to begin my own!

In your mind, what were the first

things you set about doing when

starting up your blog? I think the

main thing I set about doing was

just trying to find the way in which I

liked to post and my 'style'. I knew I

wanted a variety of content, and it

was just finding the best places to

take pictures, how I would post and

finding a layout that I liked.

You've interviewed quite a few

people, how do you go about

getting the interviews, and what's

been the most interesting? Mainly

just pestering via email or twitter

(such amazing inventions!). I've

been lucky enough to interview

some really inspiring and talented

people and my favourites would

probably be The Vaccines or Phil

Jupitus.

Now that blogging is a little more

career friendly, is it something

you're planning on pursuing or are

there other goals on the horizon? I

don't think it's something I'd like to

Thinking of starting your own blog? With web presence being an increasingly important part of many careers, razz editor Anna interviewed style and fashion blogger, Olivia, about

creating a successful blog. Olivia is an 18-year-old girl from London, currently on a gap year, running

her blog ‘What Olivia Did…’

find out more

www.whatoliviadid.blogspot.com

interviewer Anna Holden

image Jenna Payne

! RAZZ 24

Thankfully the first couple of hours in the dark go quicker than I had dared hope.

Our footsteps are softened as mild snow covers the gravelly track that we are being

led up. Gradually the night sky starts to get lighter as the terrain turns rockier and the

snow thickens. I sense that we are getting near the summit, as we pick our way through boulders and rocks that loom in the

half-light. We pass an ominous black surface:

a lake, thousands of metres above ground level, sitting in a shadowed valley of dark,

snow-covered rock. The scene is like something out of a fantasy novel, except this is my own adventure.

The clouds patrolling far below us start to glow as the sun begins its ascent. I

just want to get to the summit now. My excitement at being so near the top is diminishing, as every time I clamber up and

over these slabs of rock, more are waiting for me on the other side. The terrain is harsh

and slippery, and particularly hard to

Two unyielding, wrinkled Kenyans call and

bang against the posts of our tightly packed in bunk beds. It is time to summit Mount Kenya.

We shuffle out from the rickety shack and onto the mountainside like sleepy

sheep, with head torches and extra thermals. The solid black mountain stands

stern and defiant in front of us against the star-filled night sky.

I follow the zigzagging line of

bobbing head torches in front of me. Sunrise will be around 6am. Four hours of climbing

lies ahead – nothing compared to what we have endured over the last few days, but it’s exceptionally early. However, any sense of

time remains in the background whilst climbing in the darkness under a sky like this.

I do often amaze myself by looking up and trying to contemplate just how wide and

huge and eternal our universe is, and now I’m more in awe than ever. As corny as it sounds, I look up as I climb and see my first

shooting star.

day four, 2 am razz takes a trek up Mount Kenya…

navigate after several hours of climbing on

a reduced amount of sleep. Trekking poles slide and stones loosen underneath our feet.

We are so close, but our pace is aggravatingly slow due to the conditions we are climbing in.

Fortunately for me, I am not suffering from the altitude sickness

experienced by some of the other climbers. All I am affected by is tiredness. I offer a

consistent spool of encouragement and guidance to a pale-looking friend in front of me as we scramble onwards, racing against

the rising sun. The faint pinks and purples have deepened in the sky, and are now

being pushed aside as the yellow sun begins to make its appearance from beneath the

span of cloud. And then finally, just over four hours

after leaving camp, the summit is in front of

us. A tour guide gives me a leg up the last wall of ice and snow. I crawl and squirm on

to the top, and stand up on a peak of Mount Kenya.

Kendall mint cake is shared out and

photos are taken under the frozen Kenyan flag which marks the peak. The sun is

finishing its rise and we are just in time to see it. The view really is indescribable. The sky is so huge and eternal, completely

undisturbed by trees or hills or buildings in the horizon. Clouds guard the surrounding

air in silence, calm in their certainty that nothing can threaten their mountain, whilst

the sun’s light radiates through them. We can’t linger around here long

as it is so cold, and we begin to make our

way back down within the half an hour. However, the incredible view and the huge

sense of achievement were definitely worth the effort.

My experiences of climbing Mount Kenya are some of the best of my life, and it is something you should definitely

experience in yours. Just be prepared to go the five days without a shower!

!

words & image Kelly Robinson

Mr Cooper enters slowly and coughs once. His wife does not notice;

her eyes are glued to the green carpet. He moves to the kitchen, his

arm brushing the potted plant that squats in the corridor. The kitchen is

wide and cold, with hard wooden chairs and large windows. He turns

the heating up and puts the kettle on, his back throbbing as he bends.

The drone of the television merges with the whistle of steam from the

kettle. He closes his eyes.

There had been a girl in the greengrocers. It had been

unusually busy – noisy like the beehives he’d kept in the 50’s – but

straight away he’d noticed her cropped brown hair and light blue rain

mac. He thinks of her as a girl but she must have been thirty-odd.

Younger than his daughter.

Thunder rumbles. The kettle clicks and he rises slowly, dips a

calloused fingertip, wets his lips. He pours enough for one, stops beside

the door and adds a biscuit to the saucer.

!

regeneration words Greg Hoare

image Alexis Mastroyiannis

RAZZ 27

He had panicked and bought carrots. Not the cabbage that

Emma had asked for. He’d fumbled the change and the girl had stooped

and picked it up, placed it into his palms with a smile. ‘It’s fine. No

problem at all. I’m Laura, nice to meet you.’

He had returned the favour – walked her to her car. Good to see

manners weren’t dead, she had said. As she’d reversed out of the car

park he’d felt blood beating in his temples; a warmth in the pit of his

stomach.

The television projects shadows onto the living room wall. They flit

around his wife, still hunched over. Mr Cooper neglects his armchair. He

sits on the wooden stool. He sees Laura beside him; curled at his feet, cat-

like. His hands itch and he adjusts his wedding ring.

Thunder rumbles again and the television and lamp flicker. Second

time they go out. Mr Cooper sips the last of his tea in darkness. He rests the

cup and saucer on the floor, listens to his own heavy breathing.

!

prose !

RAZZ 28

Wisdom The wind rallies the sand calling, it surges forward, upward, backward across my cheeks and eyes. Dunes moved with ease through the desolation, piled in the shadow of man’s genius. Fossilised stones are shaped, torn by the chill of this Winter’s night. The jackal salivates at my feet, his grin, his cackle, your face on his body. Great God of the spirits with open jaws, I charge you: Speak of life’s invention. Who built an earth to rival the glory of the heavens. You speak not, but howl an echo across the sand. You turn dust into swirling rivers, pooling at the jackal’s paws. You draw a line into the distance, to split the sky and turn the world from darkness. I see the jackal lay his head in your hand, and his open eyes burn with eternal flames. You breathe life into this new sun taken from the cooling moon, and the light scalds the questions from my tongue. Rebecca Lodder

Penelope Dear Penelope Tree, I wish I were you and you were me, So, in the heat of Carnaby Street in 1963, When the cabs and the salesgirls Gawp At monochrome-dramatic billboard dreams And the synaptic circuits fire green, Like blinking traffic arrows pointed In your darling direction It would instead be me Crowned celluloid queen, Winsome paper dolly supreme, Saucer-eyed juvenile party cream, In dryadic, moon-white polyester, And in the cafe collision- crises, Of cigarette cyclist and bubble car, Outside, on the lunch-hour terrace - That turns heads sour, Mascara manic And skin into a greasy, lipstick-red Pavement kiss, Witnesses would scream, Not for you, but for me “Kill me, but make me beautiful.” This is my billets doux, A Miss 21st Century reject’s valentines verse Addressed to you, Penelope. Ellena Deeley!!

RAZZ 29

!!

Beautiful Words With words, he sailed the tapered stretch of water. He’d fashioned the mast from a rolled-up page Of his speech, her arms were wound around it. She wanted to cling to him, not his words. Her head turned right. The print had stained the banks Black with false hopes, like newspapers sometimes Stained her warm hands when she ate by the sea. Empty speeches would never wield such power. Her hands slid through the unsupportive mast. She leapt away on to the solid shore. The pages of lines, which had been the sails Blurred as the paper boat floated away. He did not reach out to pull her back but Instead a strip of typed promises reeled Out from hollow space between his lips.

Bonnie Stephensmith

If I can remember: Lifted by my father’s arms. was how I first grabbed and gripped onto the lowest branch of the ash tree. With all my childish strength I clung & hung blood thumping, suspended like a sloth, betraying the nature of my being. And when I became a bud in sun, I grabbed again the lowest branch and climbed up to the fragile top. Its bark was like scab-covered skin, its roots were spread out hands below, pushing through the fleshy earth like shrapnel. I kicked my feet, perched on a thickish branch, and beheld a world laid out before me. The sun, a half-moon on the horizon, retreated its fingers of light slowly as dark frontiers pressed forwards. Sheep huddled in corners of fields – no protection from those shadows that wet the grass with dew and drool. Mushroomed clouds bloomed from chimneys, climbing through air, reaching nothing. Sudden shivers came over me, all light had withered, cold dark grew, and I did not shiver from the cold.

Ben Stupples

������ �� �� Emma Pidsley

RAZZ���

!

many thanks to all our contributors…

Charlie Tyjas, Zoe Melegari, Sophie Christopher, Sarah Tebb, Kate

Hird, Kelly Robinson, No Guts No Glory, Nathan Blaker, Rebecca

Smyth, Sophie Ritchie, Ellena Deeley, Harriet Wigmore, Fiona Lally,

Anna Riddiford, Tea in the City, Antonia Hawken, Anna Holden, What

Olivia Did…, Jess Weeks, Greg Hoare, Rebecca Lodder, Alexis

Mastroyiannis, Hannah Klein, Charlotte Black, Wednesday Darling,

Jess Price, Nikoleta Vasileva, Emma Pidsley, Tom Clark, Alex Appleby,

Bonnie Stephensmith, Ben Stupples.

Razz My Berries is a society affiliated with the University of Exeter’s Student Guild

If for any reason you don’t treasure your copy of Razz forever… please recycle it!

back cover image Robert Herron