serpentine pavilion summer party

15/07/2016

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Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london

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As posh doos go, The Serpentine pavilion Summer Party its pretty damn posh. A listers, celebs, models, billionaires, all present and correct. The crowd are definitely the “Haves”. This party came soon after the Brexit vote, which in many ways was an angry protest vote from the “Have nots” to this lot. They wanted to make then suffer like they had but looking around this party you could tell that the top echelons of society weren’t even going to break a sweat. They are just going to carry on as normal and will clearly not be affected by the upcoming downturn just as they weren’t really affected by the last economic upheaval. Austerity is just not in their dictionary.

The guests at this party are the international jet set, with a huge European demographic, so I did wonder whether now London would now lose its appeal as the hub of the global rich and they might possibly move on to pastures new? Based on this bash it didn’t seem like they’d be going anywhere but if this city’s focus did move away from satisfying the needs of the elite and became more available and affordable to the 99% that would not be a terrible thing.

I have covered this party for a few years and I always feel like a spy on the inside. All the other photos being taken here are posed shots for paps or selfies. There doesn’t appear to be anyone else documenting this from an anthropological point of view. Am I there to expose the glitz and the indulgence, incongruous & slightly grotesque in these austere times? I guess. Yes. Do I hate these people? No. Not at all. They are not the cause for the inequality in society. They are a product of it. They also put on rather splendid affairs yups? Lashings of champagne, super delish canapés dah-ling and they wear such fabulous outfits yups yups…

It is our government’s duty to address the imbalance and create policies that will invest in the rest, not just cater to the few. Trickle down economics is very much like the war on drugs. It doesn’t work. This needs to be acknowledged and we must set ourselves on a different path. Towards fairness. Towards opportunities for all. And countrywide. Not just in London. We must listen to the grievances that drove the vote to Leave. We cannot just brush them under the carpet again and hope everything will return to normal. It won’t.

In the meantime I am going to carry on hob-nobbing with this lot, soooo clearly the people to be with when it all kicks off. As a wise man once said, shit don’t stick to glitz. Pour me another champs sweetie…

P.s Oh, I almost forgot, just as most of the guests did, the point of this bash is to celebrate the construction of the new Serpentine Pavillion, which this year is designed by The Bjarke Ingels Group (BIG), (dodgy name, sounds like an investment bank, how appropriate right?) but it is quite beautiful and every way you look at it it looks like a different structure, well worth a visit if you heading to Hyde Park.

14/07/201613/07/2016

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Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london

13/07/2016

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Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london

12/07/201612/07/2016

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Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london

11/07/201611/07/2016

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Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london

17/07/201517/07/2015

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Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london

…and so concludes this week’s photographs from the Serpentine Pavillion Summer Party. In many ways it really feels like the ultimate representation of New London as it is most definitely only available to an exclusive few . It has dawned on me that to live in this city now you have to be a REFL – Rich Enough For London. The problem is that most people aren’t. (yes I am trying to make REFL as well as New London happen- fly my pretties,fly!)

Just to give you an idea of the impossibility of home ownership in London, the average flat is worth £500,000. The average salary is £26,000 and you can get a mortgage 4 x your salary. As the saying goes, do the math, most aren’t even getting close. The top 1/% and the bottom 1% are present but everyone else has been forced out by prices that have gone into infinity and beyond and don’t look like they are coming down either.

I was reading an article this week about how the population of London has changed. In the ’80s two thirds were classed as middle income, now its little more than a third. The numbers of rich & poor have risen by 80%. The Spirit level (u can watch my 3min redux version here) showed comprehensively that inequality is the source of most of society’s ills but this shift is being allowed to occur unabated. The only barrier of defence we have that could stop this are the councils and the mayor. The councils who should be protecting us from the property developers are in fact in league with them and are using their money to fill the massive gap in their budgets that has come from Tory cuts. Deliberate actions from a government who are systematically waging war on the poor? Seems pretty convenient. And what of our illustrious Mayor, the loveable Boris Johnson. What did he have to say on the matter? “London is to the billionaire as the jungles of Sumatra are to the Orangutans. It is their natural habitat” What an absolute cunt.

Ok, its official, I have become a gentrification bore. I can’t stop talking about it and I can’t stop getting angry about it. I want my London back!! I liked the inclusive London, the melting pot, where anyone who was willing to have a go could survive and live within the city and not have to commute from fucking Margate to be able to afford the rent. If you have to travel in to work or to socialise you are not a Londoner, you are just passing through. This is not about having issue with rich people. This is about having issue with the fact that they are the only ones who can enjoy New London. The glory of this city was that is was available to all and now it is just a playground for the wealthy and that sucks. The mix worked. That’s what made it great.

I’m gonna shut up now and go and sulk in the corner. There’s no more to be said. It’s done. There is no way to turn back the clock. Time to move on. I will try not to bring this up again but I can’t promise. If it gets boring just look at the pictures. I will let them do the talking from now on.

P.s I didn’t mention the pavilion this year because it was basically shite and I don’t like to speak ill of things…(smiley face)

16/07/2015

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Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london

From scuzzy portaloos to slinky jimmy choos…the two social events I topped and tailed could not be more at polar extremes to each other..or could they? Despite the guests of The Summer Party at the Serpentine Pavillion starting the evening with great decorum, elegance and poise, once they got shitfaced on a truck load of expensive plonk their similarity to the Glasto crowd increased ten fold. Once they had been sufficiently lubricated they were dancing their designer socks off. The dancefloor got filled and things got a little messy. It was reassuring and very heartening to know that underneath all the glitz & glamour they just wanted to get wasted and party like anyone else. And they really rocked out. Throwing shapes, shaking their booty, hands in the air like they just didn’t care. It seems the desire to dance under various levels of intoxication apparently traverses all social stratas.

2manydjs who I had seen only days previously banging out tunes to the frenzied crowd from the inside of a giant metallic spider that spat out fire at Arcadia in Glasto (see last weeks pics) were now doing pretty much the same, just to a slightly different demographic. Would these people ever be up to their knees in mud off their chops in a k hole? It seemed unlikely. So were these tippled toffs better or worse than the mashed up munters I had just been with? No. Just different. Strip away the exterior and cliche though it might be, we are all the same underneath. On the dancefloor we are all equal. Now I must go and prepare the rest of my Miss World speech…

15/07/201515/07/2015

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Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london

Someone asked Tony Hadley when was the last time they played on a stage that small. The answer: Never.

The entertainment on offer for the Serpentine Gallery Summer Party was as A list as its party guests: Spandau Ballet, Mark Ronson and 2manydjs. All headliners in their own right. The bill must have been eye-watering although based on everything else at this doo it looks like money is clearly not an issue for the organisers. Art now seems to be synonymous with wealth which I never cease to find ironic & slightly ludicrous as, by its very definition, is something which should exist for its own right and not for its worth. Try telling that to this lot.

At one point Tony Hadley tried to get the crowd to join in a singalong. He had obviously clocked the demographic of his audience and declared in his best estuary accent: “You’re not too posh to sing are ya?” They were. They didn’t.

14/07/2015

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Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london

This week’s photographs are from the Serpentine Pavillion Summer Party which was on just recently. This is an event I have documented in previous years. It is regarded as one of the most prestigious events of London’s socialite scene and is well documented in the press for its A list attendees. I thought it would be an interesting contrast to last week’s Glastonbury shots. The difference between the crowds is relatively simple. In Glasto it doesn’t matter what you wear, what you look like or who you are. At this function, these are the only three things that matter.

To say the guests are ‘dolled up to the nines’ is an understatement. Every posh frock, every designer item, every bespoke suit is top of the range. The women are doing their absolute utmost to outdo each other but it is a tall order, even for the leggy supermodels. Despite having probably spent God knows how long getting ready there is an entire team of make-up staff on hand to do face and hair touch-ups throughout the night. I spent six days in Glasto without a shower and here I am with people who can’t get through an evening without getting re-glammed. Worlds collide.