Still on Brighton Road, still hoping to find some Worthing BME voices – because I so often move in spaces where I’m part of an un-noticed whiteness. Whiteness: default by-and-as privilege, overwhelming. This can leave the blog very unbalanced. I dodge into Mockingbird Cafe – a place which sometimes feels, if anything, like a little bit of London, more than anything Brightonian (unless we’re going with the line that B’town
Wandering along Brighton Road, I overhear a leisurely but intense and highly detailed conversation about Worthing events. I gauge probable friendliness and interrupt the pair, explaining that I’m intruding because they sound like real insiders who know Worthing well, are passionate about it, and probably have informed opinions about The Question. Whoa! I’ve opened a tinderbox. Worthing is not the new Brighton. Brighton is culturally diverse and it meets all
There’s no official lgbtq network, no meetups, no Worthing pride (yet?), but there’s loads of queer folk. This has been true since very long back. These days, the – sometimes quite genteel – discreet older queer crowd has new company. Is this elder flight from youth-worshipping Brighton, white crawl from London? It might be evidence of a generational later-life shift in priorities and needs – less clubbing, more gardening. Naturally,
We’re in The Orchard cafe for their vegan tea event. There’s 7 of us, in a chock-full cafe (tickets sold out weeks ago), and we look around in wonder, interested to know who are the vegan-or-vegan-curious of Worthing, then? There’s an all-ages crowd, including some very glamorous young folks, a sprinkling of beard-and-tattoo dudes, at least one person who has been vegan since the 1970s – and a baby whose
There’s about 40 of us hiding, crammed into the dancefloor area at Rustington Manor Hotel Hotel (yes – stretching the ‘Greater Worthing’ concept to its limit, but the family are Worthing folks). We’re trying to hush the over-excited and primped up children but not setting much of an example ourselves. The DJ (dandyish – red trousers, pink waistcoat) is not helping. “She’s left the house! She’s just 2 minutes away
What do you imagine a green / eco activist to look like? Be honest, now. Brighton crusty? Bristol tree-dweller? Shouty placard-bearer? We all trade daily in violent shorthand, stereotypes and imagined Others. Media headlines (“Gay alcoholic mother of two”; “Euro-Mega-Boss”) teach us to do it. Sometimes our families and neighbours teach us, too (“that Polish builder opposite”; “sarky auntie”). A Transition Town Worthing meeting severely (and joyfully!) undermined our expectations of an
Unresponsive screen. Again. Trudging resignedly to the nearest phone repair shop. “£65”. “But it’s not cracked, just slow?” “Screen needs replacing”. Cross the road for second opinion. Same guy pops up behind the counter. “Same price here, £65” he grins. Energised by piss-off, trot along to a 3rd shop. Exact same phone cases cases, same sideline of same fidget-spinners, but no sign of pop-up man. A middle-aged English jack-the-lad with
From this lookout, you’ll see three jewellery shops. Three! A slightly terrifying upmarket looking one, with antique gold and unusual vintage and collectors’ pieces in the window; a somewhat less terrifying one, which is promising ‘gold purchase’ for those who are in the extremes of hard times or flush with unwanted inheritance pieces; and an upbeat modern European one, full of Italian branded smart design and not too proud to
They skip past the brand new picnic blankets, unfathomably priced at twice the rate of supermarket ones, but still a rapidly reducing pile each time they visit. Ladies separates is the goal today, and they happily grab the best bits fast and make for the friendly blonde cashier. While she’s ringing up the bargains (two pairs of trousers for a tenner! One Top Shop and one M & S!), they
‘Sold! ‘Sold! ‘Sold!’ boasts the window in an exhausting hyperbole of celebration. Plenty of bungalows, just as we suspected there would be. But town houses too. And – look! – some smart contemporary flats designed for urban commuter living (if you’re unlucky enough to be a South-eastern rail customer). Or perhaps they’re intended as cool cutting-edge residence for co-working start-up entrepreneurs who don’t need – or want – to confuse