The Ramblings of a Madman

Seeking a friend for the end of the world AND The STYD Launch Parry featuring Feyboo.

Afam 15:10:00

That is what I've been doing all this time, seeking a friend for the end of the world, but I think it's been futile, because I had him all along. Maybe the value of the search was realising that my friend for the end of my world was me, and that the better I knew myself, the closer I'd be to finding the friend for the end of the world. I don't expect this to make sense, but it is my blog, and I can do with it as I please. You, my dear famzers, just have to live with it, or go away. I'd prefer it if you stayed, but we all do what we must. I was going to end it there, but why waste the words? So I'll move on to the STYD launch. It was fabulous, and I mean that with a capital F. Say it with me, Gone With The Wind Fabulous. (smirk)

Before I continue I'll tell you a little bit about STYD. STYD.com.ng is yet another online fashion store, that stocks lady items, for ladies, and men interested in womenswear. Actually strike that last bit, there's nothing there that I could possibly wear, and this is disappointing. What happened to androgyny? Or skinny jeans? Now I've gone from being quite interested to being in a perpetual state of whatever man. It isn't quite that bad but, I was hoping that there'd be something in it for me, and there isn't - not really. I suppose it could be a gift spot. The clothes are affordable, fairly nice, and they deliver anywhere in Nigeria for free. I would have ended this blog right here, if they hadn't given me stronger than strong cocktails, pretty damn good small chops, and a better than decent dj. I danced like a dervish, and this is always and everywhere a good thing.

And let's get this over and done with shall we?

That is me. Afam. I didn't think too much about this before I put it on you know? It's only a uniqlo white shirt, a reiss belt, and a pair of trousers from All Saints, but I quite like it. I'll probably do a repeat of this at an event where the exact same people will be in attendance. I don't have enough clothes to be a full fledged fashionisto, so I'll go on inhabiting the space between the ordinary and the weird. I only have one thing to say about this. I wish Bellanaija would help me sell my market by putting my name at the bottom of the picture, but Z listers are not afforded such luxuries. The hustle is real.

Yes, Yes! First we've got really really good looking girl I can't remember. I met her somewhere... heaven only knows where... but I must have been sleeping or something because she's pretty damn fly and I'm very very single. Mama Afam says that whoever I get with must love me to distraction, she obviously doesn't so I guess that's that then. No unrequited love for me.

Candy floss! Candy floss is something that won't ever go out of style. It's so sweet, so nostalgic. It's literally like eating your childhoos. Some girl stole mine from me. I wasn't pleased.

Here we've got the LSF PR girls. It isn't a great shot but they were laughing and I had my camera on me so that's a no brainer no?

I don't know what to say about this one. They were models, and they were talking. Snap snap. They kept talking. Snap snap. Their discussion was animated. Snap snap. I didn't listen in.

I think I'll call this one baby got back. You can see her back can't you? Well that's back enough for me. As they say, anything more than a handful is wasted.

Inneresting. Verrrr Inneresting. I dare say she's flirting with me. I don't blame her. I'm slicker than the average, hotter than the mediocre, and somethinger than the something. It's possible that she only looked at me like that because of the big daddy DSLR around my neck, but I won't pay any attention to that.

She is really quite exquisite, braids and all. Looking like a 19 year old Stella who has no need recovering her groove.

Now get your hands out. Yes, hands out, because we're going to sing a song.

Clap for a nigga with his rapping ass

Blow a stack for your niggas with your trapping ass.

Tom Ford.

I probably shouldn't say nigga, but to me that song means spray the Feyboo because she's pretty darn fly. It's so mod!

Mod.

Mod. Mod. Mod. Mod. Mod. Mod. That's my buddy, Feyi Adesanya of the Modish method. I like taking pictures of her, because it's always such good fun. I'm like, Feyboo go stand there, like that, not like that, to the sun, to me, eyes to me, legs apart, wider, not that wide you're not a two dollar ho, no, not that close, you're not a red headed step child, just there, hold it, hold it I say, look away, away I say, yes, that's it, that's it, and we've got it. Go away.

I had a good time. Yes, this is what a good time looks like.

Happy Days,

Afam

Notes on stuff and the Maki Oh This Side Up exhibition featuring Temi Dollface.

Afam 13:47:00

This one is tricky because I'm not that excited. That not to say that I'm not excited, it's just to say that I'm not crazy with it. I've got pictures for days, but, I can't seem to turn them into whole well rounded bits of content as often as I'd like. So today, I'm clearing out the backlog, and while I'm at it, I'll come clean about the entire blog as well. I love it, but it's got so many problems! I mean the damn thing is virtually unmonetizable, and this is apparently quite bad, so I'll be starting another one, I think. Maybe I'll shift some of the stuff on here to there, but I'd like it to be different. Anyone with eyes to read can tell that I'm not the same guy that I was when the blog first started. I think I'm a better writer, but I'm definitely not as bold as I once was. I mean, Tiwa Savage blocked me on Instagram for that Wanted article I wrote that time and that's saying something. I thought that I was being fair, but she obviously disagreed with me. I don't mind this really. I'm just a poor lowly Afam so when someone as famous as Tiwa is decides that you should be banned from viewing her heavenly pixellated visage, it's a pretty big deal. Me and my couple of thousand followers/readers (I'm not sure how many the lot of you are, but I'm grateful. You've blown my mind. Half of it is my work; my blood; my effort. But the rest of it is all you, my famzers, who both freak me out and delight me in equal measure) will dance around your burning pillar of scorn. Don't feel bad, it's the way of the world. I'm not above being salacious, or risque, and I'll do almost anything for an extra page view. Of course, this is tempered by my overbearing conscience, and my roving critical eye, that ignores typos and corrects malicious sentiments. No hard feelings eh!

Believe it or not this one isn't about Tiwa, and my dear Famzers you need not fear my desertion. I'll always be somewhere, some of my work will always be public. And I'll need time to build the new blog. I imagine that it will take at least another year. I can't have Papa Afam yelling at me because I've called myself a madman. I'm not ashamed of it, but I operate in this space between pleasing him and pleasing myself. It's a tricky space because it means that at the end of the day neither of us shall be quite happy with how I turn out. Of course you're expecting me to say, "to hell with that old man! I'm going to do what I want to do." But that would be a waste of time. Such things are easier said than done, and since I'm not prepared for that just quite yet, I'll save you the trouble.

Anyway this one is about Maki - Oh's exhibition, this side up. There isn't much to say about it other than her skill is masterful. I looked at the pictures and thought, "my God! There's so much work here" and that was pretty much it. I didn't really resonate with it. I thought the 20 or so images visually stimulating, but apart from that I was as dead as a bone inside. There was no lust, no passion, no sadness, only a profound sense of coolness for coolness sake. That's all there is to say about it really. Now, we should just bludgeon on ahead and talk about the people.

Here, and by here, I mean above, we've got Temi Dollface who I've become friends with. I quite like this picture. It isn't one that you'll usually see, but I think it charming.

This guy right here, Chiba, is my neighbour. I met him one afternoon while I was lunching with Chef Fregz. He remarked that my dishevellery reminded him of Lakin Ogunbanwo. I was flattered. He is far too kind.

And here we've got Zara Okpara of Lisa Folawiyo (formerly known as Jewel by Lisa). She's always so gracious. We had a decent conversation even though I was smelly. I didn't shower that day because I was both hung over and late to work. In hind sight I should have showered. I hear that perfume, and body odour isn't fair on the nose, but when there's a job to be done, the only thing that matters is that it is, whether you smell foul or not.

This one is one of my favourites. She is stunning to me. Her name's Ada and I mean it when I say it's always a pleasure.

Here we've got Remi. She's wearing Rayo, and I have to say that I really liked it. It's flattering without being too revealing. It suits her.

To be honest I prefer this shot of her, even though it's out of focus.

More Temi Dollface. No, I don't know the people she's with. All I know is I was a wee bit obsessed with her that day. I took several pictures of her. She was so animated! Usually she's posing and that's fabulous, but I like her best when she isn't posing. You see her all the time at events all big eyed and doll pretty, but when she isn't on stage or on some red carpet or the other, she's really quite ordinary albeit in an interesting way. You lot should bear in mind that my idea of normal is skewed towards the weird.

Koch. I used to listen to him when he was on the beat 99 fm. He's nice enough, I think, but I didn't have eyes for him, which is fair enough.

Temi and Maki. Maki doesn't like to be photographed so she gave me the fakest, most forced smile I've ever seen. I suppose we aren't familiar enough with one another yet. But this will probably change with time. Photographing people is tricky because you want to capture them as you see them, but they really only want to be captured as they'd like you to see them. I didn't find the balance with Maki, but I'm still alive, and so is she. There'll come a time when I'll take the shot to end all shots, and I'll never have to bother her with my canon again.

And here's another one. Sadly, I didn't take any more pictures that I'd like published. And, I don't think this blog post is funny. I'll do better next time.

Happy Days,

Afam

REVIEWS

Adventures in the Sip Gutter.

Afam 18:37:00

Blogging is slightly weird now. I now write with such regularity that the thought of banging out a blog; even a terribly shitty one no longer fills me with the heeeby jeeeebies (autocorrect wanted to make that hereby jeebies. How awesome would it be if heeeby jeebies was hereby jeebies?). I feel like I’m being completed somehow. Like all my unprofessional quirks are being yelled out of me. Sometimes the yelling and the blocking is grossly inappropriate but sometimes it’s almost necessary. I don’t know if I’ve revealed too much. I know I can’t be sent to prison or sued about any revelations I make about the work I do here, because my contract remains unpresented and unsigned.

I quite like these words. I shall continue.

Blogging is slightly weird now. I can do it all the time, but I don’t necessarily feel like doing it all the time, and it’s awesome to have a voice (a public voice) but sometimes I don’t really want a public voice. That sentence was punitive. Kudos to you if you made it through to the end. Yes, where was I? I have a voice and that means I’m meant to talk about stuff, and rant about bad customer service. I know not everyone knows that I blog and stuff, but I’m tired. Please. Learn my name. My name is Afam. I blog. I blog for me. I blog for the Sauvage. I blog for Omargardens. I’m not half bad at it. If you do something that really sucks in front of me, it’s likely that I’ll snitch. It’s like a restaurant serving a well known food critic rat shit in his soup by accident. You just don’t! Like, really? Really? Really? Really? Really?

Last night was a really moment for me. I was basically hauled from the right of the Sip gate and deposited in a gutter. It was only one leg, but still, DUDES! Suede and gutter shit don’t go! It’s not like I was rowdy or aggressive, I mean I’m so zen right now that the very idea of arguing with a fly is exhausting. The only thing I did was ask the bouncers why I was gated. I don’t quite like being gated. It’s embarrassing you know? And, it breeds bad blood. Before this week I was working out how I would get Sip on the show, but now, I mean I really want to want to because if you can help the tourism industry at all (the show airs in 42 countries in Africa) then that’s a good thing. But I just can’t get it up for them and it’s a shame.

This has got to be the most pathetic bad review ever. :(.

I’m not going to make any grand proclamations of abstinence, but I do not think my spirit or my pride will let me return there soon, and that too is a shame. I guess I could try but I’ll start smelling gutter the second I get close to the building. People shit and piss in there, so it’s not exactly the safest place for a leg to be. It’s really quite terrible. But do you know the worst thing about Sip? It’s that I cannot for the life of me tell you one thing about the place that is even remotely remarkable, apart from the fact that it is popular. Think long and hard about it. Do this with me?

I eat out, but I’ve never eaten there. I love cocktails but I’ve never had a cocktail there. I really really like Star (Nigeria’s best beer), but I’ve never had a Star there. I cannot appreciate the decor, because it is too dark, and I think I prefer it that way. The whole thing is so nouveau that it might as well have been shat out of Alamieyeseigha’s (he’s this really corrupt Nigerian ExPolitician) arsehole yesterday.

Actually this is really quite dull. I have no righteous anger to summon. I’m really not that affected. I do feel a little bit fragile, but that could also be because I’ve had a hell of a day, and I’m still hung over. Don’t feel sorry for me, I think I quite like being hung over and being at work. These are the stories I want to tell of my early twenties. Obviously I can’t do this very often at all, and today’s a Saturday so it doesn’t quite count, but I hope you know what I mean.

Oooh I don’t know if I should text the manager the link to my adventures in the Sip gutter. I’m a little bit shy, about it. Do you think he’ll think it was well written?